Healthy Breakups: Holding Space for Grief & Gratitude

Preface: This post started as an Instagram caption after I spent a day at the Oregon Coast processing and grieving the end of a relationship. It was a gloriously beautiful day, and I was also incredibly sad. I got to hold space for both of those things to be true. 

I also discovered that Instagram captions have a word limit that isn’t remotely adequate for the sentiments I wanted to express. Consequently, I’m finally starting the blog I’ve been contemplating for months now.

Fuck it. I have to start somewhere. 

Grief is Love with Nowhere to Go

Too much of social media highlights the shiny-happy-everything-is-amazing moments without providing the full landscape of tough times as contrast. So, here’s some real talk: I’m doing really well overall. I’m also really fucking sad sometimes. I’m learning to hold space for the ways in which both of those things can be true.

Last month, my partner and I split up. Our relationship was, by far, the most loving and healthy and supportive and intimate one I’ve ever had in my more than two decades of dating (sweet Jesus, high school was a long time ago). And it’s been really fucking hard to let go of this relationship. I still love this person. I still miss him. And that’s what grief is – love that doesn’t have anywhere to go.

And. This breakup has also been really amazing.

Separating wasn’t what I wanted; I wanted to problem solve and keep working at it and find a way forward. But especially with some distance, I can see that separating was also absolutely the right move for the both of us. We both need to focus on ourselves right now; there are things to sort out that can’t be done in partnership. 

And that sucks, but it’s also okay. *I’m* okay. Even if I’m also really sad sometimes. Which is radically different from how break ups have impacted me in the past. And that’s the amazing part.

I Get to Choose My Narrative

Historically I would have let the story that “he dumped me” take over, would have wallowed in it and made myself miserable for who knows how long. I would have gotten swallowed in the grief of losing the best relationship I’ve ever had – so far. I would have forgotten to notice that this relationship was a huge step (or three) up the ladder of better and better relationships. 

And what I now know to be true – looking back on my long and winding history of relationships – is that if this relationship was the best I’ve ever had, that means whatever is next will be even fucking better.

In this relationship and breakup, I get to witness my own growth. I get to see and feel how all the hard work I’ve put into healing myself over the years is paying off. I have the tools and inner resources and self awareness under my belt to know that the shitty voice in my head is just telling me lies. And that those stories aren’t where I have to live. 

The reality is, my partner and I had a series of really vulnerable and honest and compassionate conversations about needs and bandwidth and emotional energy. And we’re just not in a place right now to get our needs into alignment. Which sucks, but it isn’t anyone’s fault. And there’s nothing to do but give each other some space.

The break up was (is still) hard, and sad, and painful. But it was also incredibly kind and loving and beautiful. And I’m grateful for the experiences we got to share and the way we showed up throughout. And that’s where I’m choosing to live.

Gratitude is a Choice and an Action

Grief and gratitude can walk side by side. I can be deeply sad that I don’t have the relationship I want with this person, that I’m not getting to experience the incredible intimacy and connection we shared, that I’m missing a huge source of joy and inspiration and light in my life. I can also be deeply grateful that I got to have all of that in the first place. That even if the relationship didn’t last “forever,” getting to have it at all was a gift and a privilege.

“Successful” relationships aren’t measured by how long they last. Success is a matter of how I show up in the present and what I choose to take away from the experience. We both showed up really well with each other. We practiced gratitude for our relationship every day – in the ways we listened to, cared for, and delighted in each other.

And I learned SO much about myself, my needs, my trauma, my healing journey (both how far I’ve come and the new work ahead of me), my deep capacity for love and intimacy, and how to show up fully and wholeheartedly in relationship for probably the first time in my life. And I’m deeply grateful for those opportunities and the love and support we got to provide for each other as partners.

We Need Contrast to Appreciate Things

I’m also fucking sad. Really, deeply, bone-achingly sad sometimes. Both of those things can be true. And both of those things can be beautiful. The peaks and valleys of life go hand in hand. We need both. Which means that instead of trying to run away from my grief or minimize it, and instead of taking it the other direction and letting it consume me, I get to invite it in. Sit with it. Give it the space it needs. And to see the beauty in that, too.

Something that’s becoming increasingly clear to me is the way in which every relationship – romantic or otherwise – is an opportunity to step forward on the path to becoming my best self. And that it’s important to understand that I’m never going to achieve a “best” version of myself – I just get to keep heading in that direction. Get to keep uncovering opportunities for growth and healing. 

I don’t believe that always getting what I want would make me happy. I don’t believe that perpetual happiness is a realistic or healthy goal. I want to experience the full spectrum of emotions, even if doing that is incredibly difficult at times. But having that range, that capacity to feel deeply and broadly, is what brings me closer and closer to myself. A broken heart is an invitation to love myself more fiercely.

It All Comes Down to Loving Myself First

As much as I want romantic partnership with another person, I’m the most important relationship I’ll ever have. And honoring that relationship – by letting myself feel what needs to be felt, by listening to what my feelings are trying to tell me, by giving the younger versions of myself the love and support they need(ed) – is the only way (I believe) to build a foundation for healthy relationships with others. 

I got to witness all of that play out in this relationship. How loving myself first, treating myself as worthy of love, trusting that sharing my vulnerability wouldn’t kill me because I would always have myself to return to – allowed me to show up fully, authentically, and open-heartedly in ways I never realized were possible. And that’s pretty fucking cool.