How A Broken Heart Fuels Personal Growth
Redefining Love and No Longer Depending on Him for Happiness
A storm of tears ran down my face as my body mirrored vicious waves thrashing against my bed. Tightly gripping my sheet as if it would prevent me from drifting away. Gasping for air as I sank deep in sorrow, drowning in puddles of despair. Plummeting to the bottomless pit of pain as my heart began to disintegrate. Screaming for help — for someone — anyone.
Please.
S a v e.
M e.
Drowning. Fighting. Sinking. Violently ripped apart by moments of grief. Abused by my own emotions. Hitting rock bottom as the coldness numbed my body. Frozen. Voluntarily chained to an anchor of woe.
To live in a dystopia.
And to bury my heart so it may never be broken again.
It was only a few months ago — I surfed these same waves. The waves that, although sometimes rough, afforded me happiness and endless laughter.
I knew it would end. I saw it coming. I knew we’d sail our separate ways — but I didn’t want to let him go.
He was my captain. My better-half. The one who held my deepest, darkest secrets. There was magic between us. Where boredom failed to exist. And hours of laughter dictated our days together.
He was the love of my life. Yet, the master of my pain.
Sometimes I wish he angered me to make it easier to let go. But he didn’t.
And I still struggle to let go.
This is the story of my heartbreak. One that controls my life because I let it.
When we feel physical pain, it hurts temporarily. We burn ourselves on the stove, scrape our toe on the sidewalk, or slice our finger on a piece of paper. We experience this instantaneous, yet short-lived pain. An external ache that at one moment controls every cell in our body. Then soon vanishes. Only to be remembered by a scar.
Internal pain is perpetual. It’s a movie forever stuck rewinding. Except for those once happy scenes — scenes of laughter, joy, cuddles, kisses, and sex, are replayed in a painful light. A stark reminder of how good life was — how good life could have been if we were still together.
Everything I do, see, smell and feel reminds me of him. Reliving our precious moments is torturous. Yet, I surrender to reminiscence.
Now fear and guilt accompany my memories of us. Fear that I lost him forever. And guilt because I’m to blame for our breakup.
When I’m bored — lonely — excited — proud — all I want to do is call him and tell him how well I am doing now.
Look at how much I’ve grown, baby! Aren’t you proud of me?
Sometimes (really all the time) I blame myself for our breakup. It was supposedly mutual.
I can’t help but think: did the distance ruin us, or did I?
Our relationship was born to die.
Before we became official, I set the intention of never being in a long-distance relationship. Here’s why:
We all display acts of love differently. I show mine through acts of intimacy, assuming that the lack thereof would cause me to fall out of love. Brainwashed by this concept — that love stems from skin-on-skin rather than soul-to-soul — infested my mind with doubt.
Underestimating the power of love, I thought our relationship was born to die.
Two years into dating, we fell victim to the treacherous waters of a long-distance relationship. He moved to NYC for work. I stayed in Boston for school.
On the surface, I seemed happy for him. But I hid behind a mask of fear. Fear that our relationship was nearing its expiration date. Deep down, I resented him for leaving me and pursuing a career he was excited about.
How could he leave me?
In a transitional period of his life, he prioritized work, whereas I prioritized him. He served as a distraction from a life I didn’t want. And I sucked every ounce of his energy for my benefit. Our relationship turned into another job for both of us.
When I attempted to see him, he provided me with a myriad of excuses. He was too tired to talk to me. Too hungry to catch up. Too busy to say hi. He has a new life. I get it. But I depended on him for my happiness. Didn’t he get that?
Our relationship was hanging by a thin thread. One of us would break it. And I didn’t want it to be me.
A desperate, yet unsuccessful plea to save our love — we attempted an open relationship. Our conversations became surface level. Looking into each other’s eyes became tortuous. Crying became commonplace. Yet, he was still the only one I wanted.
Another failed attempt to save us. I started to resent him.
He told me he would love me wherever I lived in the world. I told him I would only love him if we were in the same state. Our definition of love was different. From my understanding, I would fall out of love with him if I didn’t see him regularly. Hence, why I needed constant validation from him. From his perspective, love knows no distance.
I was more afraid of losing our spark than I was losing him. My feelings of doubt dictated our time together. I could no longer be present with him. Too fixated on the future. Our non-stop laughter turned into weeping-sessions. My soul started drifting away.
With no end date to our distance, we both decided:
If we can’t commit to each other, we can’t be with each other.
Neither one of us wanted to sacrifice our future for the other. To be clear: no one should ever have to sacrifice their values for someone else.
Yet, I still didn’t want to lose my best friend.
We spent our last night together at a concert — where just 2 years prior we exchanged those 3 famous words. I love you.
Forcing our relationship to end felt unnatural. But I knew deep down (deep deep deep deep down) it was the right decision.
He no longer served as my escape from reality. I had no escape. And with no escape, it forced me to focus on bettering myself for the first time.
After our breakup, I spent most days (months actually) mourning our broken bond. Weeping in isolation. Pursuing one-night stands. And redefining what it meant to be Irish (yes, I am referring to downing White Claws like chocolate chip cookies).
My friends supported me even though I made quite a few idiotic decisions. I was too stubborn to listen to them. Though, I had to make mistakes and come to my own realizations without an opinion from a third party.
Gaining my confidence back was no easy task, especially at a transitional phase in my life (graduating college).
It wasn’t until I attended an entrepreneurial retreat, Startup Island, where I learned how to be the CEO of my own life. My Startup Island family, an amazing group of individuals I met on my trip, helped me redefine what it meant to be happy and healthy.
I started reading. I explored writing. I deepened my meditation practice. I discovered and pursued a new career path — one that I didn’t even realize was in reach. And one that I am SO passionate about.
I found ways to be happy without him. And I found ways to be happy for him.
I’m grateful we broke up. I embrace who I am without him. No longer looking to him for an escape from reality, I bring myself happiness every day. Being alone forced me to define and practice self-love. This deepened my understanding of how important it is to love myself before I love anyone else.
My breakup also taught me how little I knew about love. It’s much more powerful than physical touch. It can control you. It can blind you from making decisions that put YOU first.
I remember considering moving to NYC to be with him. It felt wrong moving to a city to pursue someone else’s dreams.
Love should never serve as the foundation for a strong relationship. It will only last as long as differences arise. Similar values are the roots to which a relationship will grow and love provides the nourishment that deepens the bond between two people.
Though we didn’t share the same values, we were deeply in love. It doesn’t mean I don’t love him anymore. He is one of my soulmates. And I will always love him, even though I no longer wish to be with him.
Today I can confidently say:
I know myself. I love myself. I will never sacrifice who I am for someone else.
It took me a while to admire myself for who I am. Not because of him, but because I couldn’t let go of us. I thought he was the one until I realized there are 7.53 billion people on this planet. One of them has to share my values.
I finally moved on. And I no longer let my past control or define me. My journey towards self-love and self-fulfillment shall continue and I know I will meet someone along the way…. ❤
Shout out to Lisa and Shivank for helping me bring this piece together.
Special thank you to Lisa for being my #1 supporter.
The World Bank helped me determine how many people I must sift through to find my next soulmate.
About me: I am a 20-something year old that shares my life experiences so you never have to go through something alone. I believe vulnerability is the gateway to freedom. We all go experience shit, so let’s share our joy, pain, and sorrow and support each other.
This story is published in The Business of Being Happy and Healthy, brought to you by the Startup Island community.
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