In the past year, I’ve ended about half a dozen (formerly) key relationships in my life.
Friends. More than friends. Clients.
And to varying degrees, all of those goodbyes hurt. Some of them felt like a grenade to my insides. And for some, I’m still finding bits of sadness littering the floors of my heart.
Breaking and healing a heart is a process. @annikamartins (Click to Tweet!)
And whether it’s a lover whose time is over, or a friend you’ve grown apart from, deciding to end things might be the most loving, compassionate step you could possibly take – for everyone involved.
For the next time you find yourself in the land of the Brokenhearted, here are:
11 Things I’ve Learned about the Breaking + Healing of a Heart.
1. Don’t believe the small voice telling you that breaking a heart (yours or anyone else’s) is selfish or mean-spirited (unless it really is).
Assuming you’re not a sadistic jerk, deciding to break someone’s heart is unquestionably courageous.
Because most people don’t trip into breaking a heart. They give it great thought and consideration. Long before they say the words or write the email, they know it’s going to hurt. Bad. And they are by no means excited about causing this kind of pain.
But they muster the courage and do it anyway.
This makes you courageous.
Because you’ve decided that (in this particular situation) breaking a heart or two today, is the best way for you to honor and care for yourself tomorrow.
Because you know that hearts have to break in order for the pieces to reorganize themselves into something stronger.
Consciously choosing the agony of heartbreak instead of remaining silent about your resentment or lack of fulfillment is an act of profound bravery. You are brave.
2. Asking yourself, “Will I regret this in 30 years?” is the wrong question. *
You will probably (on more than one occasion) wonder if you did the right thing, whether there was a way to save the relationship, whether some ‘work’ might have shifted the balance.
You’ll worry that you’ll wake up at sixty-five and regret it.
Here’s the thing: That kind of worry is a waste of your time. You cannot predict how you’re going to feel in three decades.
So instead of pondering the possibility of regret, the question needs to be:
For the person I am today and for the person you are presenting yourself to be today, is staying together the healthiest, most loving decision for both of us, TODAY?
You’re not living twenty years into the future. You’re living in the here and now. So worrying about the possibility of future regret isn’t helpful. Go take a nap instead.
* (Hat tip to J. Clement Wall for this one.)
3. Rest. Rest. Rest.
After my most recent heartbreak, all I wanted to do was sleep. My entire being felt hollowed out.
This is what heartbreak does. It breaks us. And after being broken, we have to rest fully so that the wounds can begin to heal.
Rest might mean a weekend (or six) under the covers, or it could be something else. However your body wants to recharge, allow it.
4. If you need to go into a hole, go. But decide on when you’ll come out.
Cancel your appointments.
Put an autoresponder on your email that lets people know you are entirely offline.
Go to a cabin in the woods or retreat into your bathtub.
Turn the lights off and submerge into yourself. Surrender to the ripping you feel in your chest.
But don’t stay there.
Allow yourself a time of crumbling and wallowing and then GET UP.
You will survive. This is not the end of your existence.
Your heart is broken right now, but she is a self-regenerating warrior, already on her way to repair.
Be tender with her, but don’t withdraw from Life. It still wants you to live it.
5. As soon as possible, move your body.
Yes, make space for deep rest, but the grief will rot inside you if you don’t find a way to move it out at some point.
Heartbreak is like a twister for your insides. When the worst of the storm is over, physical movement gives the debris that remains an exit door from your system.
Twenty-four hours afterward, I danced. Just one song.
If you’d seen me, you would have thought I was either severely drugged or in a hallucinogenic state. But I was dancing (sort of) and some release came.
Move.
6. People will not rise up to help you heal.
You will ask for an extension on your deadline or for someone else to wash the dishes that night (or that month) and at some point, someone is going to say No.
Someone is going to hold you to the same standards and expectations they have of all the other non-devastated people.
Usually, these people are simply unaware that you’re in pain, or how deep the cut is.
Try to let your tenderness for yourself fan out toward them. They’re carrying struggles of their own.
And yet, like everything else, there is wisdom in this too, because maybe they are (unconsciously) trying to help us face the truth that the world does not hit the pause button because your heart is broken.
Someone has to change the kitty litter.
Someone has to pick your kids up from school.
Life is not going to grind to a halt for you.
Pray for strength. Meditate on the Light of Love fueling your weakened body. Decide to rise.
7. People WILL rise up to help you heal.
For every person who did not step up for you, ten more will come forward.
Some of them will be people you’ve opened up to and knowing your hurt, they will make exceptions. They will extend your deadline and cook dinner and send you the perfect song at the perfect moment.
Open your arms wide to their compassionate love.
And you’ll also receive help from total strangers. Their gift to you might be a warm smile, holding the door open while you’re carrying in the groceries or letting you out in traffic.
Books will fall off the shelf.
An unexpected email will hit your inbox.
The flowers that line your driveway will bloom like never before.
Notice all the little and grand ways that the Universe is reaching out to show you that tenderness, compassion and LoveLoveLove are still here. Everywhere.
8. Lean on your faith.
Dial up your meditation practice.
Download archived episodes of your favorite spiritual podcast.
Join a prayer circle.
Sign up for a retreat or workshop.
Buy that book you’ve been curious about.
However you like to refer to your Source, to the Divine, to the Majesty of the Cosmos, put that at center stage. Let it flood in and fill your cracks.
9. It takes as long as it takes.
You’ll be ready, one day. And when it comes, you’ll know.
You’ll meet someone’s eyes across the room. You’ll catch your reflection in a window. You’ll hear a whisper in the trees. You’ll know.
Trust that you will hear it and know it for what it is.
Until then, tell everyone to chill out and let you be.
10. Keep a watchful eye on the language you use to talk about your heartbreak.
Your words create your reality, so are you choosing words that are creating a reality of permanent suffering?
For example, there’s a big energetic difference between saying “My heart is broken. I’m hurting so bad. Relationships suck,” and “This is the darkest pain I’ve ever felt, and I know the light is waiting on the other side.”
It won’t always feel possible, but as much as you can, choose language that refers to the upswing about to happen, the clarity this darkness has brought, the helpful contrast that will guide your future choices.
Look for, and focus on, the Light.
11. If you can believe these three words, the rest almost doesn’t matter: You are loved.
I love you. I swear, I do.
And there are millions more like me.
People who are praying for you right now. People who want to see you fulfilled and lit up. People who know that you were put on this planet for a reason and we’re just waiting to see you shine.
Sure, we might be strangers. We don’t know your name and probably never will.
But that doesn’t change the fact that we love you.
I PROMISE you that there is someone sitting in a church or in their backyard or at their desk right now, feeling pure, no-strings-attached love for you.
If that feels hard to believe, all I can ask is this: try.
Try to imagine, just for a nanosecond, that you are loved.
Endlessly, you are loved.
xo
Annika
Annika Martins is a spiritual curator, which is kinda like being a museum curator. Except instead of curating paintings, she curates spiritual practices. From prayer and eyes open meditation to dance and self-touch (oh yah!), pack your curiosity and prepare to expand your definition of what’s high and holy.
See God. Your way. It’s all going down at AnnikaMartins.com.
You can also find Annika on Facebook, Twitter (@annikamartins) and Instagram.
*Image courtesy of Romel
