Life and Dating After Divorce | Amber Anderson | #150
Life after divorce can feel like learning to breathe underwater: every instinct screams for the old rhythm, yet there is a quieter, steadier way to move forward if you trust new habits and a new pace. In this conversation with Amber Anderson, a single mom of two and an occupational therapy assistant, the story isn’t heartbreak-as-destination but heartbreak-as-fork-in-the-road. She chose the path of clarity, boundaries, and grace—first for her daughters and then for herself. The episode explores co-parenting without public conflict, dating after divorce with intention, and the practical tools that sustain resilience. Along the way we hear how a family system can shift without fracturing children’s sense of safety, how step-relationships can emerge without pressure, and how personal growth requires uncomfortable honesty. The throughline is simple: put the kids first, manage your reactions, and tell the truth about what you want your life to look like.
Amber’s backstory shows how early marriage, cross-state moves, and the demands of new parenthood created both adventure and strain. Returning to Utah for education and support, she built a career in geriatric care and later faced the hardest call: ending a marriage that was good in many ways but no longer aligned with who each partner had become. The decision hinged on modeling a healthy life for her daughters. Rather than teach them endurance at any cost, she chose to show them a mother who thrives, sets boundaries, and believes love includes joy. That reframe becomes a cornerstone of the episode: many children aren’t hurt by divorce itself as much as they’re hurt by chronic contention. Remove the fighting, and you clear space for affection, stability, and collaboration to grow across households.
That collaboration shows up in specific, repeatable behaviors. Exchanges happen at each other’s homes, not through third-party parking lots. A shared group text with her ex-husband and his wife keeps logistics transparent and child-centered. Negative comments stay offline and offstage. When difficult feelings surge, the rule is “press pause”: don’t answer inflammatory messages, wait until emotions cool, and respond only to kid-related needs. This is the art of gray rocking with intention—reducing drama by refusing to feed it. Those boundaries are not coldness; they are a form of love that keeps children out of adult crossfire. Over time, that predictable calm made room for a surprising upgrade: a genuine, easy friendship among all the adults who care for the girls.
Post-divorce, Amber admits the first year blended distraction and discovery. With the kids most of the time and exhaustion stacked high, she filled her off-nights with work, the gym, climbing, and friends. That busy season also loosened the Velcro of nostalgia; longing for the past gave way to curiosity about who she was becoming. Therapy, conversations with honest friends, and even keeping a “dating log” sharpened her self-knowledge. On that list she tracked what lit her up and what drained her, which values mattered, and which behaviors were non-starters. The log became a mirror and a compass—an antidote to wishful thinking and a nudge toward alignment. When she finally met a partner who matched the list and brought unexpected strengths, she recognized the fit because she had done the work to define it.
Dating after divorce looks different because the checkboxes have changed. When you already have kids, a home, and a career, you’re not dating to build a life from scratch—you’re inviting someone into a living system. That requires slower timelines and high transparency. Amber emphasizes kid-first introductions and letting relationships unfold on the children’s timeline, not the adults’. She resists the urge to sell her partner to her daughters; instead, she asks curious questions—What do you like about him? What makes you feel safe?—so their voices shape the pace. This approach respects agency and reduces pressure, which in turn deepens genuine bonds. It also clarifies that adults hold the frame: steady routines, clear boundaries, and no conflating adult romance with parental roles.
Support systems matter. Friends and family became Amber’s accountability circle, the people invited to hear both the golden moments and the grit. Their job wasn’t cheerleading alone; it was honest feedback when patterns looked off. Therapy did the same, not by prescribing choices but by sharpening questions: What do you want? What are your boundaries? What fear is driving this reaction? Books like Untamed and How to Avoid Falling in Love with a Jerk offered language for self-trust, pacing, and character discernment. She also points to trauma-aware insights—how bodies keep score of past pain—and the courage it takes to name triggers and own your reactions without blaming your partner. That level of ownership is the bridge from repeating old cycles to building new ones.
Co-parenting without contention is a daily practice of prudence.