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Rising Through Estrangement: Competing With a Broken Heart

  • Writer: Crystal McDaniel
    Crystal McDaniel
  • Apr 23
  • 3 min read





Estrangement and Rising Anyway
Estrangement and Rising Anyway

I’m preparing to compete for the title of Mrs. Tennessee America this Saturday, and while the crown sparkles with opportunity, the journey here hasn’t been glamorous. It’s been hard — painfully, privately hard.


I’m walking this path with the weight of estrangement from an adult child.

That word — estranged — it echoes in my chest sometimes. It doesn't just mean distance. It means a kind of silence that screams. It means unresolved questions, birthdays missed, memories tucked in drawers that no longer open. The pain of it isn’t always visible, but it’s there. A bruise beneath the surface.


Sometimes, I don’t think my family really sees it. They have their own lives, and they stay on the side of the lines they’ve drawn. And I try to respect that… but I struggle with not having them close — not in the way I need. I don’t even know if my husband truly understands the weight I carry, or what his role could mean in moments like this. I long for him to step into that place of steady strength — and sometimes, I just don’t feel it. That’s not blame — it’s just the ache of unmet needs.


The pain deepens when I see the way my ex-husband continues to act. Distant. Obtuse. Not cruel — just disconnected in a way that magnifies the loneliness. It’s hard to feel so completely alone while standing in a house full of memories.


But here’s the thing: I still choose to rise.


Not because it’s easy.Not because everything is okay.But because I refuse to let what’s uncertain steal what’s possible.


And I don’t rise entirely alone. God, in His deep kindness, has given me three extraordinary friends — people who show up without needing a spotlight, who speak life over my dreams and sit with me in the shadows when everything feels heavy. They are the quiet gifts I didn’t know I needed. Because of them, it all feels possible again.


I’ve done what I could. I’ve shown up with love, even when it was met with silence. I’ve carried weight I never planned for. But I owe it to myself to keep moving — to walk forward with grace and fire, even when the ground beneath me shakes.


There’s a part of me that still aches. Of course there is. I’m human, and I care deeply. But I will not allow what I cannot control to sabotage what I can still become.


I am not competing with perfection. I am competing with authenticity, with purpose, and with quiet resilience.


To anyone reading this who feels strangely estranged — who’s navigating broken ties while chasing dreams — know this: You are not alone. And your worth is not diminished by someone else’s inability to see it.


You can rise with a broken heart.You can walk the runway of life — or a stage in Gatlinburg — with grief in your gut and power in your presence.You can be both healing and unshakable at the same time.


And you are worthy of every beautiful thing coming your way.


— Crystal McDaniel

Mrs. Chattanooga America

Mental Health Advocate | Survivor | Voice of Resilience


 
 
 

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