bit by bit.

Hi Trish,

​….I was dating this guy for two years, and things got a bit rocky due to our shift in life paths...where our schedules seemed to conflict. Recently, I mean very recently, he ended things, but very abrupt. Blocked me completely out of his life, and washed his hands of our relationship completely, as if it meant nothing to him; as if he doesn't feel anything. Although right now I don't see the light at the end of the tunnel, I know there must be one eventually. How does one overcome this heartbreak? I've accepted it’s not going to be easy, but how do I stop these thoughts and questions racing through my head? Thoughts and questions that I will never get the answers to….Right now my world seems crashed down, although I know I still have a lot going for me, and much to look forward to in the future. I know I'm not the only person in the world going through a terrible break up, so maybe I can pass along your advice or words to pay it forward; give someone else an ounce of hope or light that things do get better.

love you,

K

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K,

Please know that everything I’m about to say to you comes with a deep understanding of your hurt, and that not for one single second do I deny your feelings are real, important or truth. In essence, I want you to know I believe you, and do not wish to diminish where you are in your healing process.

I say this because my honest reply to you on moving on, continuing to heal, and “getting over” your sadness is kind of shitty. When people say to me what I’m about to say to you, I sort of want to punch them in the baby-makers (even when I know they are correct). So I’m glad this exchange is via email, because you are tiny, but mighty, and I am old now and not as quick with my reflexes….
​
Here is one thing I know for sure: The 'solution' to getting over it -- the thing that is most deeply, naturally programmed in our DNA--- lies in trusting in time and space; in leaning into the old cliche of 'time heals all wounds' with a degree of resigned acceptance. It is genuinely applicable in this situation, at least in the sense that time eases all wounds. Time offers new perspectives, even if we never fully recover. And the second thing I know for sure is that the cracks of our broken hearts and aching souls allow for the light you mentioned to come in, whether we like it or not, so we’d better get familiar with them.

And I know this is hard to hear because it probably feels like you don’t have the time; that it’s as if though you are losing a bit of yourself each day, that the missing him grows in waves of intensity moment to moment as you swirl over new unanswered questions. That you’d perhaps rather take any other route of shoving every distraction, trick, numbing technique into those cracks just to stop the hurting for a little while. Screw the light, I just want to feel better, kind of thing.

This is all so very normal, sweet girl. And arguably an essential part of the process.

One thing that can be a struggle to admit out loud is that maybe you’re not actually ready to be over him.  Is that possible? As much as we can sit here and say things like “I just want to heal” and can think thoughts of “I wish I could wake up and have him erased from my memory” (and there are, undeniably, moments when we really do want this, as the tangible ache through the body is so hard to ignore and function with)...at the same time, we find ourselves energetically clinging on to them for dear life. We become terrified to be without them; to know ourselves and to understand love in their absence. To think, “what the f*ck would that even look like?”. If I had to paint an image of my own hurting soul during times of loss like this it might look as though I had claws digging into a person’s legs as they try to step away. Dramatic...desperate, even...but genuinely struggling to let go.

​Just one more answer, we crave.

Though I know you’ve never had a substance abuse problem, it probably feels like this is the emotional equivalent of withdrawal. We re-play all of our times together over and over and over in our minds to find the clues. We reread emails or texts several times a day, just to a get a “fix”. We check Facebook or Instagram, clicking through photos that we’ve seen a dozen times before, in an effort not lose the picture of his face in our minds. It can be so overwhelming, and confusing.

​I think we do these things to ourselves partially because we miss them. We want to see them, hear from them, know them again. But I also think we crave this kind of closure because there is a side of us that wants him or her to see *us*...to remind them of all the things they loved: your laugh, your perfume, your physique, etc..

This is a particularly difficult truth about any break up I have ever been through: The idea of becoming a faded memory, or worse, some kind of a regret, eats us alive. We want, maybe even need, to have profoundly mattered, and cannot make peace with this potentially no longer being so.

We deeply want to be thought of, likely with the same intensity with which we ourselves remember.

It had to have been real, right?
​
I also want to tell you about something scientific I recently learned (stick with me -- I promise it’s good!): Basically, the human brain is programmed to get a hit of dopamine (the happy drug) when we recognize and complete patterns. So, when we figure something out like a math equation or a mystery or a riddle, we mentally get rewarded. The problem with this is that we get the same hit of dopamine when we finish a story, or draw a conclusion; the brain recognizes a beginning, middle + end pattern...regardless of whether that conclusion is actually accurate! In order to subconsciously receive this hit of dopamine, we very often make up the ending to our varied unfinished stories, and become certain of them. From what you wrote, I am going to assume you are making up quite a bit right now to help get the answers you didn’t fully receive. I’d wager it’s not a pretty conclusion.

Look. Men are so very different than women in a plethora of ways, the most infuriating of which (in my humble, non-scientific, absolutely generalizing opinion) is the ease of compartmentalizing things. Their brains are like neatly organized attics of boxes: put memory A here, and memory B there, and then close it up and don’t open it again. Meanwhile, women’s brains are the most complex spiderwebs. Everything is connected, we trap all memories together. It’s utter bullshit, if you ask me. And yet it is also a blessing for us women, to be able to care and connect and empathize so deeply because of it. Despite all of the times this sticky mental web has gotten me into a pickle, I’m not sure I’d choose to be programmed any other way.

So what do we do, once we have given our trust to time and space? How do we ease the in-between while we put our faith in the process of them doing their jobs?

For one thing, remind yourself often that you do matter.

What would it feel like to affirm to yourself that you did matter, you do matter, and that if you’re going to be assuming things and making up conclusions for that hit of dopamine, you might as well assume the best?

What is the absolute best assumption you can make of yourself in relation to this break up? You were a good partner. You will be again. Play these messages on repeat.

Try to shut down the replay whenever possible. And maybe consider disengaging from the technology based connections that give you a false fix of remembering, and prolong the suffering of withdrawal. It's a difficult, but powerful step in the modern world of relationships we live in.

Lean on your girlfriends. Let them love you, hug you, watch movies, have wine. It is so wonderful to have sisters in this world (both related and non), so do not feel as though you have to hide your pain or shame from the women who see you, and care for you. Let their light shine on and seep into those cracks. Let them help carry the weight of your hurt. We are built for this job, us sisters. We are strong for each other in almost super natural ways.

Then, be your own friend. Wake up on a Sunday morning and ask “K, what would you like to do today?”. Do beautiful things with just you. Take a walk with a cup of coffee. Sit in the sun for a few moments with your pup. Wink at yourself in the mirror while saying “hi cutie!”. Listen to good music. Read books like Tiny Beautiful Things, or The Four Agreements, or Stitches, or Carry On, Warrior. Dance, dance, dance. Bake something decadent and share it with no one. Color in a Disney coloring book. Buy a new plant and sing it a song. The details don’t matter -- just make it something beautiful, for you.

When 5 whole minutes go by without your thinking of him, give yourself a fist bump. Or a piece of chocolate. And then when 10 whole minutes go by, give yourself two.

Don’t beat yourself up for the timing of your process. Speaking kindly to ourselves in these times of great hurt is the absolute best, and most necessary, gesture we can make. In fact -- hang up a photo of cute K as a baby in a place you’ll see it every day. Remember that you would never say mean things to that sweet face, so why do it now?

And when being inside our own heads is too much, we can choose to look out. Not searching, per se, but rather noticing. Noticing the details of a woman’s dress. Noticing the color and shape of the clouds in the sky. Noticing the feel of that cup of coffee on your walk, the smell of the changing seasons. Counting the birds in a tree, the freckles on our hands, our breath as we take each step .

Bit by bit, pieces of your soul will begin to return to you.

One of my favorite artists once said (after her fiance unexpectedly left her) that it was a heavenly moment to realize she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t ready for her; she wanted to be with someone who couldn’t get enough of her.

I know this can be true for you, too.

All my love,

Trish

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Author's Note: This essay was edited from a personal email exchange, with generous permission from the reader (and loved one). I applaud her willingness to take a painful, private, and vulnerable request for compassion and turn it into an open space for shared empathy. To stay up to date on posts, and to be a part of even more shared compassion and good vibes, sign up for TGL Letters here.