Heart Split in Two

By Shane Kulman

Dear Enchantress,

I’m a single parent to an eight-year-old who has been my whole world since my divorce four years ago. Recently, I started dating someone kind and patient, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a spark of excitement about the future. But the moment I leave for a date, guilt creeps in like fog. My child asks if I’ll always come home, and I worry I’m somehow choosing my own happiness over their stability.

I don’t want my child to feel replaced, but I also don’t want to close the door on love forever. How do I balance being a devoted parent while still allowing space for romance?

Dear Heart Split in Two,

Guilt is a clever little illusionist. It appears whenever a loving parent steps even an inch outside the role they believe they must occupy completely. But here is the quieter truth: children do not need a parent who disappears into sacrifice. They need a parent who models a life that still has light in it, a life where joy and connection are not forbidden. Allowing yourself to feel excitement and spark does not subtract from your devotion; it multiplies the lessons you can teach about resilience, love, and self-worth.

Your child’s question, “Will you always come home?” is not really about your dating life. It is about reassurance, stability, and knowing that, in a world that sometimes feels uncertain, some things remain certain. Eight-year-olds measure safety through predictability. So, the magic here is not choosing between love and parenting; it is creating rituals that make your return feel inevitable and comforting.

You might craft little spells of reassurance: tell your child exactly when you will be back, and keep that promise. Leave a small note, a drawing, or even a silly joke that they discover when you are gone. Have a “reunion ritual” when you return—perhaps a shared story, a quick cuddle, or a secret handshake. These tiny acts are powerful anchors that speak louder than explanations, small enchantments that communicate, “You are safe, and I am here for you.”

And remember, introducing someone new into your life does not replace your child’s place in your heart. Love is not a chair at a table where someone must stand up for another to sit down. It is a house that quietly grows more rooms, rooms that expand without closing the doors of those already inside. Your child can see that your heart has room for care, joy, and companionship without losing the space that is theirs.

When children witness their parent cared for, joyful, and connected, they learn something precious, that adulthood is not only about responsibility, but also about warmth, companionship, curiosity, and possibility. You are teaching your child that love is not finite, that happiness can coexist with devotion, and that their parent can thrive without them ever feeling abandoned.

You are not choosing happiness instead of your child. You are showing them that happiness, self-respect, and love can live in the same home as devotion and protection. With a little self-love, steady ground, and intention, you can honor both your child and the possibility of new love.

To ask The Enchantress a question, email her at love@enchantedembodiment.com

Shane hosts two monthly workshops and weekly Magical Monday meditations.