Counseling for Women After Divorce in Tennessee

You’ve Lost You…

You built a life that made sense. then divorce changed everything

You were someone before your marriage. Capable. Driven. The friend others called for advice, the employee who kept getting promoted, the parent who somehow managed to do it all. 

And now you're sitting in your Nashville apartment or your Knoxville kitchen or your Chattanooga living room wondering where that person went, because divorce doesn't just end a marriage; it dismantles the entire framework you organized your life around.

You've spent years being someone's partner. Someone's co-parent. Someone's plus-one. And even though you know, logically, that you existed before all of that, she feels like a stranger now. A distant relative you haven't talked to in so long you wouldn't recognize her voice.

Here's the thing about ambitious women going through divorce in Tennessee: you're used to solving problems. You're used to pushing through. You've optimized systems and hit deadlines and exceeded expectations your entire adult life. You're approaching divorce the same way.

And it's not working.

Your life is unrecognizable after divorce

Your kids are with your ex this weekend, and the house feels absurdly quiet. You've already reorganized the pantry twice. You've opened and closed three different apps on your phone without actually doing anything. The dog isn't interested in being your emotional support animal right now—he's napping, blissfully unaware that you're spiraling.

You think about calling someone. You scroll through your contacts and realize half of them are mutual friends, and the other half? You're sure they're exhausted from hearing about your situation. So you put the phone down and pull up Netflix, hoping something, anything, will distract you until bedtime.

At work, you're physically present but mentally calculating how you're going to get one kid to practice in Franklin while the other needs to be at dance in Brentwood at the exact same time. Someone asks your opinion in a meeting, and you realize you haven't heard a word anyone has said in the last ten minutes. Your face goes hot. You stumble through something vaguely coherent and hope no one noticed.

Your 8-year-old asks why their other parent doesn't live here anymore, and you freeze. Everything you've read says to be honest but age-appropriate, but at the moment, all that comes out is "that's for the adults to worry about." You watch them walk away and immediately feel guilty. That's not what you meant to say. That's not who you want to be.

You've downloaded two meditation apps, bookmarked a half-marathon training program, and have three unread books about co-parenting stacked on your nightstand. Currently, you spend more time criticizing yourself for not using them than actually engaging with any of it.

What you’ve already tried (and why it hasn’t fixed things)

You've listened to every divorce podcast that exists. You've read the co-parenting books and practiced scripts in front of your mirror. You've made spreadsheets to manage tasks now that you're doing them alone. You've journaled. You've tried to meditate. You've signed up for things you immediately canceled.

You've maybe even tried therapy before with someone who felt more like a neutral observer than an actual partner in the work. Someone who nodded a lot and asked "how does that make you feel?" while you were drowning in logistics and loneliness and the unshakeable sense that you've failed at the one thing that was supposed to matter.

It hasn’t brought the relief you’re looking for.

That’s because divorce isn't a problem you can think your way out of. All the strategic planning and self-improvement projects in the world can't address what's actually happening, which is that your nervous system is flooded, your identity is shattered, and you can't optimize your way through grief.

how working with me is different

I'm Dr. Emily Fornwalt, and I work with women across Tennessee who are trying to find themselves again after divorce.

I'm not going to hand you another checklist. We're not going to make a plan for how to "get through this" faster. 

I work from an attachment and neuroscience framework using approaches called AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy) and IPNB (Interpersonal Neurobiology). What that means, practically speaking, is that we work with your nervous system and emotions first, because when you're constantly in fight-or-flight mode, no amount of podcasts or planning is going to help.

What we’ll do together is figure out why you keep reacting in ways that don't match who you want to be: the snapping, the sleepless nights, the paralysis when you need to make a decision, and the pervasive sense that you're holding everything together with your fingernails.

The goal isn't just to feel less terrible. It's to think clearly, make decisions you feel proud of, and (re)discover who you are now, not who you were, or who you think you should be.

I hold a PhD in counseling from UNC Charlotte; I'm a Level II AEDP therapist; and I work exclusively online via telehealth. This means no matter where you are in Tennessee, we can work together without you having to add another commute to your already full schedule.

your life can change after divorce counseling

Therapy with me isn't about feeling slightly less terrible. It's about fundamental shifts in how you move through your life:

You parent from intention instead of reaction. When your teenager says something cutting, you don't chase them down the hall with a lecture. You pause. You breathe. You give them space and come back later to connect. You stop performing "good co-parent" for an invisible audience and start doing what works for your family.

Your mind comes back to work. You're present in meetings again. You remember why you're good at what you do, and that competence feels satisfying instead of like imposter syndrome.

You ask for help without feeling like a failure. When your sister offers to take the kids for a few hours, you say yes without apologizing or explaining. You use those hours however you want – a nap, a walk, sitting alone in a coffee shop – and you come back better, more patient, and more present.

You stop performing "okay." When friends ask how you're doing, you tell them the truth. You let people support you. You stop minimizing your experience or deflecting with humor because you're worried about being a burden.

You know what works for your family. Whether that's co-parenting, parallel parenting, or something else entirely, you stop second-guessing every decision against what the experts say. You do what needs to be done, confidently, without the constant mental commentary about whether you're doing it right.

You know who you are. Not the person you think you should be. Not someone's ex-partner. You. With your own opinions, desires, and dreams that matter.