She threw down the ultimatum, change or leave. He left.

And like that Cortney a then 29 year old self-taught guitarist, runner and hair stylist, felt the amp unplug from her life.

She stopped running. Stopped playing music. Stopped going out with friends. “I was paralyzed,” she said in the wake of her marriage, over almost before it had begun. Even in her day job cutting hair Cortney said, “I couldn’t do anything. I thought I was never going to feel better.”

Slowly she began to think about it less and less, the anxiety quieting incrementally with each new day. “And one morning I got up and went for a run,” she said. “I thought, I’m ok now.”

Coming out of the black, breathing a stinging breath of cold air clicked on a song that had been playing in her mind for years. Cortney wrote it even before they were married but it took the breakup for The Longest Night to find a voice.

Well I miss you every day
Maybe that’s part of growing up, we never get all the answers
I just wish I didn’t know how good it could’ve been
Oh the longest night is over
And the longest night is done

Don’t call me home anymore
I won’t run to your voice, oh no
I can’t spin this fairytale in my head
Oh the longest night is over
And the longest night is done

There’s something quite lovely about a broken heart
It makes for songs that break us in two
But somehow we live, oh somehow we live
Who knew?

Now Cortney lives with a deliberate intention. “When things are bad I tell myself, I’m not going to die from this. I force myself to get up and move. Go look at the ocean. Play the guitar. Do something that makes me feel alive and do something that makes me know I’m going to survive, that I’m living life.”

“I think it’s an American ethic. Perseverance and resilience requires a conscious choice to live in ways that make us feel whole and that we’re living and not treading water.”

Cortney will have to put that ethic to the test as she works seven days a week for one year to pay off the debt she and her ex accrued in their marriage. It was her choice to take on the debt and it’s an impetus, rather than a weight, the debt propelling her forward to work three jobs and still play music and run and live for one goal: To close out that year with a break for a new beginning.

When the last bill is paid she’ll pack her husky and her guitar and head to Oregon, to hike and discover and reinvent herself in a new place. She’ll leave behind her scissors, her apartment and her family, and even her former band mates. It will be a long year, but no matter what, Cortney says, she’ll be singing her song from a new coast on a new day.

“I want to do something beautiful and extraordinary and adventurous.”

So tomorrow, I will start this new life
Oh but tonight tonight tonight, I’ll miss the old one
Oh tomorrow I will stand and fight
Just not tonight, just not tonight, just not tonight
So tomorrow I will stand and fight
Just not tonight, just not tonight, just not tonight

There’s something quite lovely about a broken heart
It makes for songs that break us in two
But somehow we live, oh somehow we live
Who knew?
Somehow we live, oh somehow we live
Who knew?

Wow, Cortney!  We love this song! Your story is such a great example of two quintessential and very American values – sacrifice and persistence. You’ve taken them, hand in hand, in order to live life and pursue happy. We look forward to seeing where your remarkable talents take you next!

Keep pursuing happy!
J&M, LLPH