“All That Glitters: The Cost of Coming Out Too Early”

When I was younger, I was always outside. Parties, events, cookouts, gatherings — if something was happening, I was there. Sometimes I was hosting, sometimes I became the life of the party, but either way, I stayed busy and social. Being outside wasn’t just something I did — it became part of who I thought I was.

So the first time I really couldn’t be outside like that anymore, it messed with me. I felt this tension in my gut, like I was missing something important. That feeling we now call FOMO — the fear of missing out — was real for me. And if you don’t get a handle on it, it can run your life, especially when you’re going through something and probably need isolation more than activity.

This is actually the longest stretch I’ve gone without being socially active. And when I say “outside,” I mean being at events, gatherings, functions — constantly around people. At some point, I had to hit the brakes. I realized I was going out just so I wouldn’t feel like I was missing something, not because I actually wanted to be there.

What I didn’t realize until it happened is how much divorce impacts every part of your life — mentally, spiritually, and financially. When you’re used to living one way and suddenly have to scale everything back, your ego takes a hit. And trying to stay socially active while you’re quietly falling apart inside only makes things worse.

I was trying to come outside before I had healed. I’d be around friends and family feeling awkward, hurt, and disconnected because I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I had lost so much of my identity in my marriage that I didn’t know who I was supposed to be after it ended. I should’ve stayed home and done the work, but instead I kept trying to prove I was okay when I wasn’t.

And the truth is, it’s okay to miss out sometimes. You don’t have to be everywhere. Some seasons you’re flying to Turks and Caicos; other seasons you’re just going to the movies or staying home. Sometimes you have to tell people no. Social media doesn’t help either — watching everyone live their lives while you’re trying to rebuild yours can make you feel inadequate fast.

But this season isn’t about what you’re missing. It’s about getting familiar with yourself again. Learning your worth. Taking the time to put work into yourself so when you do step back outside, you do it with confidence and stability, not desperation or insecurity.

Because the reality is, a lot of being outside is just appearance. It’s fun, it’s social, but what happens when you can’t participate? Are you okay being alone? Are you okay watching others travel and live it up while you’re home healing, stacking money, and rebuilding yourself so when your time comes again, you can show up whole?

I’ve been divorced since 2018 after a ten-year marriage, and I’d be lying if I said I was completely healed. Every time I think I’ve moved past something, another memory or emotion pops up. Healing isn’t linear. And on top of that, the changes in my relationship with my son have hit me harder than anything. I had a picture in my mind of what marriage and fatherhood would look like, and life didn’t play out that way.

Even though I was the one who asked for the divorce, it still hurts. I’ve dated since then, moved forward in some ways, but parts of that experience still live in me. And learning how to go through those feelings instead of running from them has been one of the hardest challenges of my life. But I know I need to work through it so my heart is eventually free enough to love someone else without carrying old trauma into something new.

So what does “all that glitters ain’t gold” really mean? Sometimes what looks good on the outside isn’t ready underneath. Sometimes even we aren’t as healed or prepared as we want people to believe. And that’s where discernment comes in — learning from experience, becoming self-aware enough to know when something is real and when it’s just shiny on the surface.

And that includes ourselves. Sometimes we’re the thing that glitters but isn’t gold yet.

The real work is getting to a place where you’re okay being alone long enough to become solid. To stop sending signals that you’re ready when you’re not. Maybe you need more time, more money saved, more self-love, more healing. Pretending you’re fine while still carrying open wounds only hurts you and the people around you.

I had to learn that sometimes you have to go quiet. Let people miss you. Step back and fix what needs fixing. Because when you’re not healed, your energy can push people away, and then it’s easy to fall into victim mode and blame everyone else instead of taking accountability for your own growth.

So how do you know if something that glitters is actually gold? Experience. Self-awareness. Learning from mistakes. Doing the work so when you step back outside, you’re showing up whole. And the question becomes: are you okay walking into the jewelry store again after being hurt? Are you willing to do the work to become ready instead of just looking ready?

Because the worst thing you can do is send the wrong signal — to present yourself as healed when you’re still recovering.

My hope is that you get to a place where you’ve done enough inner work that you can genuinely pour into others. Where you’re mentally and financially stable enough to enjoy life again without feeling like you’re chasing something or running from something.

Because sometimes what looks like missing out is really just preparation. And when your time comes again, you won’t just glitter — you’ll actually be gold.

Much Love,

Jermy