54, Scuba Diving, and Why Divorce Gave Me My Life Back

I’ve just turned 54, and two weeks ago I did something that still surprises me when I say it out loud. I completed a three-day scuba diving course with Koh Tao Scuba Diving.

This was a big deal. I’ve never been someone who loved swimming in the sea, and going underwater was firmly in the “not for me” category. Fear, comfort zones, excuses, I’ve used them all at different points in my life. But something has shifted over the years. My courage has grown, my appetite for life has expanded, and honestly, a huge part of that came from my divorce.

I was stripped back by divorce. Without the responsibilities, expectations, and safety nets, it made me reevaluate who I was. In exchange, I gained freedom and the courage to attempt things that had previously scared me.

The scuba course was touch and go at first. My very first sea dive? I bottled it. Completely. Panic kicked in, my head said no, and everything in me wanted to climb back onto the boat. But my instructor was patient, calm, and believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He gave me space, encouraged me, and never rushed me. And then I did it. I went under. And when I came back up, I felt incredible.

That feeling, doing something hard, scary, and new is addictive in the best possible way.

Straight after that, I headed off on a short recce trip to Chiang Mai with a friend. I hadn’t been to Chiang Mai in nearly a decade, so it felt special. But this trip wasn’t just a holiday. It was about checking, once again, that what I’m offering through my retreats is genuinely good enough. Because if it’s not good enough for me, it won’t be good enough for you.

One of the highlights was visiting Rachamankha Hotel. It didn’t disappoint. It’s serene, elegant, and feels like an oasis tucked away from the chaos of the city. You step through the doors and it’s like entering a different world calm, grounding, and beautifully designed to make you slow down and find clarity.

With limited time, we prioritised what matters most to me when designing post-retreat experiences: Building new connections and travel partners. We explored temples, wandered the Sunday walking market, and somehow stayed awake past 10pm to watch a fabulous ladyboy show a proper Chiang Mai experience.

However, nature is what truly makes me happy and is the main reason I moved to Thailand. We went on a four-hour hike, stayed overnight in a wooden stilted house with a Karen hill tribe family, sat around a fire under the stars, and disconnected from everything that doesn’t matter. No phones, Wi-Fi, or social media. Just nature. The next day, we travelled down the river on a bamboo raft for two and a half hours, surrounded by jungle and the sound of water.

It took me straight back to when I first came to Chiang Mai over 30 years ago, one of the many reasons I fell in love with Thailand and knew, deep down, that one day I’d end up living here.

I haven’t included the full jungle trek in my retreats because it can be physically demanding, and the last thing I want is to push people beyond their limits. But we do include a visit to an ethical elephant sanctuary with a cooking class and enough nature, beauty, and connection without overwhelm.

Looking back on my own seven-year journey, I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Creating and running these divorce and grief retreats gives me deep satisfaction. Helping people heal and transform isn’t just my work; it’s my purpose. Being in nature reduces anxiety, brings clarity, and reminds you what’s possible.

I won’t pretend it’s been easy. When I first launched my retreats, I lost money. A lot of it. It took time just to break even. I kept going largely because of returning guests who trusted me and believed in what I was building. That belief mattered, and it's the reason why I'm still here doing them.

I’ve learned that growth doesn’t come from staying comfortable. When my short-let business collapsed, I invested in myself, even when it meant maxing out my credit cards. Money comes and goes. Life doesn’t. If you’re passionate and committed, things have a way of working out.

I might be 54, but the truth is this: I probably wouldn’t be living this life if I hadn’t gotten divorced or taken risks. And that’s the message I want to share.

It’s never too late to live the life you wanted. But if you keep making excuses and placing obstacles in your own way, all you’ll ever do is look back with regret. If there was ever a time to put yourself first, it's now.

I keep my retreats intimate for a reason, so don’t leave it until the last minute. If you need help moving into your next chapter, make it work now. Otherwise, you’ll still be in the same place six months from today wishing you had.

We’re down to the final two rooms. Once these rooms are sold, I’ll be moving to a waiting list. Click here for availability

Or if you fancy a chat please get in touch by visiting our website, www.mendingheartsretreat.com.

You either change it, or you stay in it.

Gilly