My heart hurts. 💔
It’s an agonizing feeling that is so familiar, yet still so uncomfortable.
It comes from loss of connection with another person- usually romantic, but also friendship, or loss through death.
This feeling has followed me from youth.
When I was 11 years old, my family moved from Texas to South Carolina, and I was not happy. I cried every night, missing Texas and my friends.
Mixed up in that was also a monster crush on a boy named Bill who didn’t know I existed.
The feeling of yearning for a home I could never return to, and a boy who would never notice me, left me feeling ghosted by my own self.
I was longing for the unattainable.
When my boyfriend Dorian quit returning my calls at age 16, I took the large kitchen knife and sawed into my wrist; just enough to bring blood and leave a thin scar so I could feel something other than the pain in my heart.
or the first few years after I got sober at 22, as I went through the healing of the past, owning and trying to reconcile all the shitty things I did, that dark ache was my nightly companion.
When I lost my baby at 8 1/2 months pregnant at 24, my heart vacillated from resembling a cold stone to feeling like a small boat tossed among waves.
Through all the rejections, all the loss, that heartache is there.
The pain is an old, familiar friend that reminds me of hard times. Of past and baggage.
Now it’s here again. It’s been coming and going over the past few months as I have been in a relationship with another romantic partner.
It’s been dramatic. High and low, cozy, and then unsafe. And all of the things in between.
And a few days ago, he told me it was over.
He was moving on to find someone more compatible.
I knew from day 1 it could never be anything significant.
But the drama bonding made me feel otherwise.
After he told me of his choice to move on, a fleeting thought crossed my mind – “you could eat over this. No one would fault me. People would understand.”
Besides, how many times have we all seen it in movies, and TV, and in our own lives, the expectation, even the encouragement, to drown our heartbreaks in sugar-laden treats?
Thank god I have a life that is full of connection, support, and love.
Because I feel so supported on the outside, and live in service, my cup is already full.
Although this orphaned feeling still lingers in my chest – whispering for me to reach out to him and manipulate him to come back – he is not my sole source of love, intimacy, and connection.
Because I fill my cup daily with my spiritual practices and service, in the days since the break-up bomb, I have already had powerful coaching or 12-step service-based connections with more than 10 beautiful beings.
When I’m on those calls, I’m not in my head, consumed in obsession.
I’m present. In the moment. Focused on the person in front of me and their lives. Connected and caring.
Now I’m here alone in between calls and that old niggling ache is back.
And it’s ok. I can sit with it. Let it be. Put my hand on my heart.
Show up for myself and not ghost myself by being ‘over there’ in his world and the same old pattern of obsession and fantasy about “what ifs” and “I remember whens.”
I know this too shall pass. It has happened before and it will happen again. This won’t last forever.
If you’re feeling grief, rejection, heartache, loss… it will pass. You can’t force or will it, and it won’t happen on your schedule.
So in the meantime, how can you show up for yourself?
You do not have to abandon yourself in a substance, a drink, food, sugar, or another person or behavior.
If you pick up again, then you have an extra problem on your plate. It’s not worth it.
The pain will still be there along with a steaming pile of shame and regret from giving in to the old pattern.
You can do this. This is still new for me, but I’m doing it.
One day, one minute at a time. The only way out is through.
Happy to be a listening ear of support to anyone who resonates with this message.
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