Part X: Heartbreak and the Path to Peace
Part IX marked a turning point in the process of journaling through tough emotions. This next part is about facing hard truths to keep moving forward in ways that serve you best.
#8 of 12 Ways to Move Yourself from Heartbreak to Peace of Mind.
Confession Time.
This might sting a bit: They were right when they dumped you.
They were right to dump you, they were right to dump you when they dumped you, they were right, they were right, they were right.
And I’m really sorry. It sucks.
Whether they said it out loud or tiptoed around the core truth or gave you 1200 other reasons, ultimately, they were right to break up with you because you just weren’t right for them.
Ouch.
That cuts deep. That hurts like a motherfucker, especially if you compromised and sacrificed and put 110% of yourself into your life together, bringing the best version of you to the table every time you sat down.
What does bouncing back from that proverbial slap across the face even look like?
It looks like you taking a pause and thinking about this: If you weren’t right for them, what makes you think they were right for you? Don’t overthink this. There is no math that makes them the right person for you if you weren’t the right person for them.
They were not the right person for you. Simple fact.
If you would rather not waste your energy on choosing wrong people in the future, you have to take a good, hard look at the things that did not work for you in this relationship and decide which compromises you would make again, and which sacrifices cost too much to repeat.
When you first lost your relationship, in those first few days or weeks of heartbreak, what did you say in your journal to convince yourself in the moment that the break-up wasn’t so bad, that your loss wasn’t that great after all?
You know what I mean. What did you finally admit to thinking or feeling about your ex that you’re not going to miss? What turned you off about them? What was so boring you wanted to stab yourself in the face to elevate the entertainment? What made you want to throw things and shake them so hard that their stupid would fall out?
How good does it feel to finally confess all the ways they weren’t God’s gift to the Universe? So good, right?
Do it some more. Go ahead. Get it off your chest.
I hated those stupid cargo pants they always wore. And that hat! That ugly, stupid hat. I wish I’d “lost” it ages ago. Good riddance.
If I never get dragged to another Monster Truck Rally it will be too soon! And what the actual hell is wrong with them that they still drink that kind of beer at their age? Their taste really is in their ass.
If I never get dragged to another artisanal Kimchi lecture series it will be too soon!
Who the hell eats Jell-O with their hands?!?
The things you won’t miss go here.
How fun was that? Remember, you can be as snarky as you want in your journal. It’s private.
This “well they sucked anyway” list-making in your journal is important self-soothing. It’s like thumb sucking or a kiss on a skinned knee. It calms down your inner tantrum throwing toddler and makes things feel better for a little while.
Venting and pouting are part of the process, and it’s good to indulge in a little self-soothing when you’ve been hurt, but the benefits of the good old vent-and-pout are limited.
If you want some real power, if you want to walk into the next part of your life with confidence and a strong sense of self after the torture of heartbreak, you’re going to want to take a look at these confessions of yours through a different lens.
Why did you stay? How often were you bored, and why was it okay to put up with being unfulfilled? What made you angry or frustrated, and why did you let it pass? Why did you ignore what bothered you?
Why did you participate in events and activities that weren’t important to you, or that you didn’t enjoy at all?
What was all that compromise about?
Relationships are about compromise, yes. And being in love makes it easy to ignore the little things that bug you, especially when they’re just quirks here and there but everything else is working.
So, what’s the big deal about a little compromise.
Nothing. A little compromise is good for you. It’s the big compromises that you need to pay attention to.
Shining a light on the big compromises can teach you important things about yourself. Increasing self-awareness is called growth. Growing into a more elevated version of yourself leads you into more elevated versions of relationship. That’s the big deal.
Journaling about each of your relationship compromises will help you recognize what you will and will not be prepared to compromise in your next and other relationships — including the one with yourself. Especially the one with yourself.
I kind-a think that’s precious. And priceless.
Compromise is one thing, but what did you sacrifice in order to be in a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Remember, the proof that it wasn’t right for you is that it no longer exists.
What did you sacrifice and why? That’s the bigger question.
Sacrifice, to me, implies a values conflict, which then leads to one value being subsumed by another, which never ends well, no matter how long you deny it’s a problem.
Values that might be in conflict:
Spending quality time with your partner vs. spending quality time with your kids / friends / other fam
Spending money on an experience vs. spending down credit cards
Moving somewhere new and exciting vs. continuing to be a key part of your community
Being spontaneous and flexible vs. benefitting from routine
Your value conflicts go here.
Here’s another sharp sting: No one can subsume one of your values under one of theirs, or another one of yours, unless you allow them to. Going against your values is on you.
I journaled a lot about this, about compromises and sacrifices and what each confession taught me about myself and my values. It brought me to a difficult place.
In my case, I have been grappling with the fact that my physical and mental health weren’t even on my list of values in my last relationship, so I never felt a values conflict. This is something I absolutely need to grow out of, because I can’t afford to keep going like this.
Let me be clear: My ex did not threaten my physical or mental health in any way, shape, or form. I have been in physically and mentally dangerous relationships, so I know this to be true. He gave me nothing but support and encouragement. I’m not talking about abuse anyway.
I’m talking about seemingly innocuous things like sleep cycles. The ex functions best on 9-10 hours of sleep, with a regular bedtime and an even more regular wake time. My sleep pattern is 5-7 hours after whatever time I’m done for the night. Could be 11-6, could be 12-6, could be 1-8.
I have the most energy and best focus for work and creativity between 4pm and 1am. I like to be glued to my seat for big blocks of time, writing, researching, or designing something new. But that 4pm sweet spot was right when the ex would be wrapping up work for the day, getting some exercise in, eating, and gearing up to socialize.
I valued my time with him and our mutual affection more than I valued my need to work and create. That’s not his fault; it’s mine. I would stop working to join him at a concert, or on the couch, or for whatever else was going on. Then I would try to wind down while he got ready for bed so I could join him, but it rarely worked. I spent so many nights willing myself to fall asleep, silently screaming for an hour or more about all the things I could have been doing instead - needed to be doing instead – until I finally fell asleep.
Eventually, I started listening to books when we went to bed to drown out the voices that kept asking what the hell I was doing to myself.
I lost so much creative time. I ignored so many opportunities to write. I forfeited time to work on my business. I neglected all the ways I need to feel connected to myself.
I was in love. And I was a visitor in his house, which, in my mind, meant doing things in their house their way—no matter how much they insisted it was my home, too.
Was I dealing with a selfish jerk who wouldn’t bend, wouldn’t allow me to do my own thing at night until I was ready to sleep? No. He was clear about how he wanted things and also clear about me needing to be clear about how I wanted things, but I didn’t take advantage of his willingness to compromise. I didn’t know how to negotiate.
I had a feeling, a fear, somewhere deep down inside, that if I stayed up late working or started saying no to going out so I could work, that we would drift apart and that would be the undoing of things.
I was afraid of the truth of that, so I screwed myself out of the pleasure of my creative work and I screwed myself out of my optimal sleep cycle, which is where the danger to my physical and mental health comes in, and that’s all down to me. Maybe honoring my natural rhythms of sleep and productivity wouldn’t have undone anything, but I’ll never know because I never admitted to myself that any of it was a problem.
But I will tell you what. The flood of relief over having my own sleep schedule back was immediate and overwhelming. And long-lasting. Five months later, I’m still pleased. And more productive than ever. And just as social, surprisingly.
A great huge flood of relief is one way you know whether something on your “well they sucked anyway” list is a much bigger deal than you realize. And it’s how you know you need to be aware that it matters and that compromising that thing again in the future is a big, fat No-No.
Unhealthy compromises are one thing. Sacrifices - the ones you made or the ones you were ready to make - are even bigger flags.
Before he ended the relationship, the plan was for me to move my life over to his house in the city. Where this would have involved a lot of compromise for both of us, it was really going to involve a lot of sacrifice for me.
I could give you a list of the sacrifices, and you would wonder what was going on in my brain.
I’ll tell you what was going on in my brain: I loved that man hard for five years. I haven’t figured out how to love myself like that in all my 50+ years. That’s the long and the short of it.
Everything was about to get 500 times harder for me in my daily life, but I was ready for it. My compromises and my sacrifices and my love were all I had to bring to the table, and it never felt like enough. Not because of him, but because of too many other voices in my life leading up to him.
Baggage is a bitch.
Unpack that suitcase of beliefs about yourself, item by item, and take a good hard look at which ones led you to make sacrifices and whether any of them fit anymore.
I, for one, would really really like to grow out of the “never good enough” mohair sweater I seem to like to wear so much.
What’s in your baggage? What’s your mohair sweater all about? Find a loose thread and pull at it in your journal, even if it burns as it unravels. Especially if it burns.
Now. What are you going to do about it? Who are you going to grow into? How are you going to prioritize yourself and your values?
It can be really hard to admit that your ex was right, that you weren’t good together, that you weren’t able to be your best versions of yourself together. Ugh. That really, really sucks.
In the break-up spiel, I was told that our lives just don’t work together. I think that’s the thing that pissed me off the most. The only thing that pissed me off, really.
It was infuriating. I contorted my life around his for five years, encouraged him to live his life any way he wanted, supported his hobbies and endeavors, devoted most of my weekends to him and his favorite activities, spent more time with him and his friends than with my own, and put zero restrictions on how he spent his time.
There were amazing payoffs, but those words from his mouth were so. very. insulting.
Most of all, I was angry because he was right.
I wanted to scream, You mother. fucker. What part of your fucking life has been compromised? Or complicated? Or made more difficult, compared to mine? Or had less of what you need to thrive because I was in it? How, exactly, did our lives not work together, after all I did to make it easy on you?
Well. Who cares?
Seriously. He either didn’t pay attention, didn’t understand, or didn’t care what navigating that life cost me. And why would he? I didn’t pay attention, didn’t understand, and didn’t care what it was doing to me—until that gob smacker hit my ears and the full weight of the insult landed square on my chest. “Our lives don’t work together.”
I have no idea what he means from his point of view, and I don’t need to. It was the wake-up call I needed. I thought I had been contributing, making a difference, and being important enough in someone else’s life that everything else was worth it. I was wrong.
He was right and I was wrong.
The first few days after the end of the relationship, I was hit with wave after wave of emotion (naturally). I understood the fear and sadness, and the sense of loss (of course). What confused me was the relief that swept in and tried to settle between my shoulders. I kept pushing it away for later because it didn’t feel real. I was afraid it was my psyche reaching for something, anything, to keep me going.
But I couldn’t deny the moments of deep contentment that came from being back in my routine, in my own neighborhood, in my own home, surrounded by the things that mean home and happiness to me.
And I could not deny that my OCD, which had been at about a twelve for a while, on a scale of 1-10, had dropped to a four. Now it’s a one, sometimes a two.
Your confession list, your “well they sucked anyway” list serves a purpose on the surface. It’s the vent-and-pout stage that helps the wound scab over. But it’s what’s underneath that’s important. When you dive in and swim in the depths where the truth hangs out, you’re going to find yourself asking some serious questions.
What was behind that compromise and why did I make it? Was it worth it? Would I do it again, or nah?
What values conflict was that sacrifice about and why was I willing to turn my back on one value for the sake of a different value?
I would love to know who is more important, you … or someone, anyone, everyone else? How would you justify your answer to a friend or stranger like me?
What are you prepared to do differently next time? Who will you need to be so you’re strong enough to honor your values and compromise what’s fair but not sacrifice what’s important?
When you figure that out, start practicing in other areas of your life. And when the right person comes along, you’ll be ready.
PS: There’s more than one right person for everyone. The first and most important right person for you is you. Practice being the right person for you and the rest will follow.
Powerful!