Break-ups and The Grieving Process

Grieving loss is not inherently harmful. It is essential. But grief becomes problematic when self esteem is damaged or underdeveloped, and when addictions or compulsive behaviors block access to our deepest feelings of sadness, anger, and fear.

When self esteem is fragile, grief can feel overwhelming rather than integrating. Loss does not move through the system. It gets stuck. That is when anxiety becomes chronic, not because grief exists, but because it cannot complete.

This is why daily repair of damaged self esteem matters. Repair means learning acceptance and allowing it to land. It means forgiveness, both toward ourselves and others. It means finding constructive ways to rebuild a sense of worth that was weakened, interrupted, or never fully supported early on.

Allowing grief, when self esteem is being actively repaired, is one of the most effective ways to move underneath a primary source of prolonged anxiety.

There are losses every day. Some are obvious. Others are subtle. Even the passing of time is a loss. We are biologically designed to process grief continuously and in small doses as life unfolds. That system works well unless it is overwhelmed. Trauma, chronic stress, or repeated emotional injury can overload the nervous system, which is what happens for many people within their first twenty years of life.

When losses accumulate faster than they can be processed, the system adapts. A child, or any overwhelmed adult, begins searching for relief. Relief, not truth, becomes the goal.

This is where coping strategies emerge. Fantasy. Overachievement. Dogmatic religious practice. Excessive exercise. Poor food choices. Overwork. Harmful substances. Endless distraction. All of these offer some form of relief, or we would not use them. The issue is not that they reduce pain temporarily. The issue is that they come with side effects, and they prevent grief from completing.

The emotional wound stays open. Like a drafty window that never fully closes, anxiety continues to leak into daily life, making prolonged happiness and contentment difficult to sustain.

What we need is grief, not collapse. Grieving does not mean crying endlessly or falling into depression. It means processing loss consciously.

Grief requires containment and structure. Writing. Reading. Meditation. Healthy crying. Service to others. Care of the physical body. Talk therapy. Time and perspective. These practices provide enough safety in the nervous system for grief to move through rather than overwhelm.

We also need a more honest understanding of grief. It does not unfold only in neat, predictable stages. There are common phases that many people recognize, but there are also less acknowledged states. Getting stuck. Acting out impulsively. Reaching for compulsive relief. These are not character flaws. They are signs of incomplete grieving.

When we see these patterns for what they are, the response shifts from shame to understanding. That is when intervention becomes possible.

Each present day loss, no matter how small, is an entry point. The grief we feel now opens a doorway into earlier, unfinished losses. When we allow current sadness to be felt fully and safely, without numbing or bypassing, the system begins integrating pain that could not be processed before.

Now it is our turn to learn what many of us were never shown. How to grieve without collapsing. How to feel anger without becoming destructive. How to let emotion move through the body and dissolve, rather than hardening into resentment, guilt, shame, fear, or defensive identity.

Breakups are one of the clearest classrooms for this work. They disrupt attachment. They expose coping strategies. They force contact with loss. When approached consciously, they offer a rare opportunity to complete emotional cycles that may have been waiting for resolution for decades.

In this way, grief is not the enemy of healing. Unfinished grief is.

Breakups and hurts within our relationships don’t break us, unprocessed pain does.

The grieving process around the end of a relationship is often described through the stages outlined by Elisabeth Kübler Ross:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

These stages are useful, but they are not linear. And in real life, grief is often far more complicated.

Kübler Ross’s stages are not linear, and neither are mine. In my experience, the stages repeat and frequently get stuck. Not because grief is broken, but because grief rarely happens in isolation. There is complex chemistry involved in chronic anxiety, along with layers of childhood experiences being protected, avoided, or unconsciously replayed throughout the process.

For much of my life, grief felt like it led nowhere. Sadness slid quickly into depression. Depression was not a place I could stay. Instead, I got busy. I worked harder. I distracted myself. I stayed active to feel alive. In doing so, I blocked access to who I really was underneath the behavior. I adopted false identities to keep my self esteem intact.

When anxiety is present, grief does not resolve cleanly. The nervous system looks for relief, not truth. As a result, the stages multiply, loop, and evolve into something more chaotic. Based on my lived experience, grief has often looked like this:

1. Denial
2. Anxiety
3. Anger
4. Confusion
5. More anxiety
6. Fantasy and bargaining
7. Depression 
8. Impulsive and compulsive reactions
9. Clinging and resentment
10. Crashing self esteem
11. Repeat

These phases are not failures. They are adaptations. We may move through them in different orders, revisit them repeatedly, add new phases as defenses, or experience several at once. What appears to be resistance is often protection. What looks like avoidance is often survival.

Denial cushions the initial shock. Anger provides an outlet for frustration. Bargaining fuels endless what if scenarios. Depression allows the full weight of loss to settle, when the system can tolerate it. Acceptance, when it finally arrives, opens the door to peace and understanding.

Grieving the loss of a relationship requires time, patience, and genuine self compassion. It cannot be rushed. Pain that is avoided becomes recycled. Pain that is allowed becomes instructive. It teaches us about our attachment patterns, our defenses, our capacity for love, and the areas where growth is still needed.

For those experiencing grief inside an existing relationship, the process can feel especially confusing. The loss of a love that has faded may feel like both relief and injury at the same time. Guilt, sadness, hope, and longing can coexist. Even here, the same principles apply. Time, reflection, and compassion toward oneself are essential.

No matter the type of loss, real healing requires turning inward. Meditation can be a powerful tool in this process. It slows reactivity, creates space between feeling and action, and allows deeper insight into recurring patterns, fears, and the habits that limit intimacy.

Relationships function as mirrors. They reveal what we avoid in ourselves. Frustration with a partner often points to unresolved inner conflict, difficulty apologizing, unrealistic expectations, or demands we place on others because we have not learned to meet those needs internally.

If you are grieving a breakup or a loss, give yourself permission to sit with it. Distraction and new attachments can offer temporary relief, but growth comes from completing emotional cycles, not escaping them. Heartbreak is not a mistake. It is a developmental passage for beings wired for connection.

As healing unfolds, remember that grief is not only about what you have lost. It is also about reclaiming who you are beneath survival strategies. The process prepares you for love that is steadier, kinder, and more conscious.

Acceptance does arrive, but only when safety and honesty are present. When it does, grief stops looping. It integrates. And with it comes clarity, humility, and the quiet strength to love again.

At some point in our journey, we will inevitably face relationship breakups. You already know how challenging these experiences can be, they rank among the most difficult moments in life, alongside grieving the loss of a loved one and coping with illness or injury. However, it’s essential to remember that unlike other forms of loss, such as death, breakups offer us the opportunity to heal, grow, and eventually cultivate new relationships.

The grieving process for the loss of a loved one is fundamentally different from that of a breakup. While I don't want to minimize anyone's experience with the end of a relationship, I've had my share of painful endings, I do notice that people often exaggerate the pain they feel. In this turmoil, we tend to obsess over what we could have changed, leading to blame and judgment. This cycle of anxiety and pain can hinder our ability to fully heal and find closure after a relationship ends.

To truly find closure after any loss, we must be willing to put in the work. In my moments of deep pain and loneliness, I often turned to prayer, seeking the closure I desired. Continuing this journey involves reflecting on our experiences, writing about our relationships, their histories, and our patterns. Documenting what we’d like to change in ourselves, exploring our philosophies, and noting the lessons we've learned can be incredibly beneficial. This process of self-reflection and expression is essential for healing.

Additionally, this is a great opportunity to revisit books on relationships, grief, meditation, addiction, childhood issues, or anything else that can help uplift our minds from darkness. It’s unrealistic to experience significant pain after a breakup while hoping for it to pass without taking practical steps toward exploring our inner world and healing. Engaging with these resources can be a vital part of the healing process.

During the healing process of two significant relationships that ended, I often repeated four key mantras to myself: "This too shall pass," "It's okay for me to feel sad," "Something positive will manifest for the good of all," and "I’d rather be alone than crazy." The last mantra, in particular, was especially helpful as I navigated the end of a toxic relationship.

Today, a key focus of my messaging is understanding that relationship conflict will persist as long as both individuals remain unaware of how anxiety operates. Our reactivity often fuels this conflict, leading to built-up resentments and distrust. Over time, these feelings can create a sense of hopelessness, making us believe we’re with the wrong person or that our differences are insurmountable. Recognizing this dynamic is crucial for fostering healthier relationships.

The truth is, we don’t have as much in common as we initially thought; that perception was partly a fantasy. While we share the same planet and species, our differences can be profound. At the start of a relationship, we’re often drawn to each other by a sense of commonality. Yet, as we explore our connection more deeply, we begin to realize just how unique we truly are. No two people can share the exact same chemistry or mindset at the same time; it’s impossible. 

As intimacy deepens, we may find ourselves confronted by these differences, which can lead us to believe there’s someone better out there for us. While this might be true in some cases, it’s often a delusion. Relationships are not disposable, and we shouldn’t create a laundry list of what we want in a partner only to discard them when we discover their humanity and fallibility. 

For instance, one partner might love the holidays while the other doesn’t; one might prefer classical music while the other enjoys rock ‘n’ roll. When we’re in a relaxed state of mind, our minor differences can make the relationship interesting. We have the opportunity to embrace the best qualities of our partners and integrate them into our own personalities. Conversely, the less desirable traits we notice in them are often projections of our own inner struggles. For example, if we label our partner as alcoholic or addictive, we should reflect on our own behavioral patterns, even if they manifest differently.

In many cases, our partners are reflections of ourselves, with the differences being superficial. The most crucial aspects of a relationship are love and attraction, as well as compatibility in communication. It’s important that we can express our love in ways that resonate with each other. When we fixate on superficial traits, it often reveals our reluctance to dive deeper into intimacy and focus on empathy, compassion, and mutual enjoyment.

Just because these elements can become damaged during conflicts doesn’t mean they aren’t present. Often, we mistakenly believe we need to work on the relationship itself in therapy, when the real focus should be on our own growth. If your partner is unwilling to work on themselves, that presents a genuine challenge. 

Determining whether the conflict arises from your own anxieties or from your partner's inadequacies is no easy task. Contemplate this deeply and consider journaling, as writing can reveal insights about our inner world and help crystallize our thoughts.

It’s more likely that our issues aren’t due to incompatibility or the need to find a new partner. Instead, we often lack an understanding of the dynamics and triggers at play. Many people struggle to navigate the complexities of maintaining an intimate relationship that is free from conflict.

Remember this important lesson: our negative feelings manifest simultaneously as physical sensations in the body and thoughts in the mind. All negative emotions are manageable as we mature and develop our character. When we feel sad, it’s important to fully experience that sadness rather than try to change it. However, it’s also valuable to have strategies to shift our thought processes so that we don’t amplify our sadness or become stuck in it. 

I’ve found that none of my emotions are unmanageable; it’s the resistance to them, like resisting the sadness or the pain of loss, that often leads to profound anxiety. This is the time to focus on breathing exercises and self-care; neglecting this can lead to unnecessary suffering.

Engage in breathing exercises several times a day to help reduce anxiety. These practices aren’t meant to avoid our feelings, but rather to allow them to surface and pass. When we experience the profound pain of losing something we love, it’s important to remember that we may automatically enter a fight-or-flight state. Even if it doesn’t feel like it, anxiety and emotional constriction are indicators that we’re in our sympathetic nervous system.

Making time each day to return to a sense of relaxation, even for just a few minutes, can make the grieving process more bearable.

I advise my friends to pay close attention to their behaviors when they feel the pain or anxiety of grief. If they don’t actively confront these feelings and instead drift into avoidance, they may develop addictive behaviors to repress or deflect their emotions. While these behaviors might provide temporary relief, they ultimately prolong our suffering.

This is not the time to seek out new relationships, visit strip clubs, or go out drinking with friends. Although some people might feel the need to temporarily escape, I believe that such distractions can hinder genuine healing. The grieving process is unique for each of us, some prefer the company of friends, while others need solitude. Some find solace in nature, while others turn to yoga.

It's crucial to recognize any potentially self-destructive behaviors you may be engaging in. Take the time to write about them, acknowledge them, and commit to stopping. If you find it difficult to shift your focus toward healing, it may indicate a deeper struggle with addiction rather than relationship recovery.

Heartbreak Isn’t the End, It’s the Beginning of Something Deeper

Before we dive into grieving, let’s clarify the different types of loss, as perspective is essential. When someone we love dies, we grieve a loss that cannot be replaced. The person is gone, and the love we had for them transforms into something different, never to be what it once was. There’s no replacing a mother, father, sibling, or best friend. The grieving process for such losses is profound, often requiring immense time and effort to adapt to life without them. The pain of their absence becomes a part of us, something we carry forward.

By contrast, the end of a romantic relationship is a loss we are designed to heal from. Over time, we are meant to find love again. The beauty of human nature lies in our capacity for connection, and new love has the power to mend old wounds. With new love comes a new story, one that can surpass the last in meaning and joy. Our loyalty, passion, and heart naturally shift toward the new, dulling the pain of the past. While the loss of a romantic partner can feel overwhelming, it’s important to remember that, metaphorically, the "arm" grows back. We are wired to rebuild, to start over.

That said, losing someone we’ve shared intimacy with, our days, nights, fears, and dreams, is undeniably painful. It stirs questions and fears about the future: Will I ever love again? Will I feel that same joy or connection with someone else? These fears, while natural, are part of the healing process. It’s normal to wonder if you’ll ever feel the way you once did, but it’s also crucial to trust that healing will bring new possibilities.

Allow yourself to feel this pain. Avoiding or suppressing it will only prolong the process. Moving through your emotions, whether sadness, anger, or confusion, is essential for genuine healing. As difficult as it is, facing the pain is the only way to move forward. Remember, love and connection are part of our nature, and just as you’re seeking love, your future partner is seeking you. Your story isn’t over; it’s still unfolding.

This writing may find its way into the hands of someone seeking relief from overwhelming emotional pain, heartbreak, or the struggles of strained relationships. If that’s you, then finding it is already a meaningful first step. In moments of profound relational sorrow, many philosophies may feel hollow or fail to keep us steady. Yet it’s precisely during these times, when we’re grappling with the grief of loss, betrayal, or conflict, that the tools I discuss in this book become essential: writing, therapy, service work, meditation, breathing exercises, reading, talking, prayer, exercise, healthy distractions, improving our diet, organizing our belongings, spring cleaning, and more. These practices help us confront our pain and begin to rebuild trust and connection, both with ourselves and others.

When we’re struggling in our relationships, every obstacle feels magnified. Meditation, for example, might feel ten times harder to begin. We may feel cynical about whether it works, overly distracted, or so reactive that simply sitting still feels impossible. Relational pain, like an alarm bell, sends us into survival mode, activating the sympathetic nervous system. In these moments, meditation isn’t about enlightenment; it’s a tool for stabilizing ourselves and finding clarity.

Relationship struggles are also the perfect time to test these tools. Can therapy help us navigate conflict? Why not talk to someone who can guide us through this pain? Writing is another powerful tool, pour your heart onto the page. Write about the experiences that triggered your grief or challenges: the end of a partnership, unresolved conflict, fear of abandonment, or the weight of unmet expectations. Putting these feelings into words helps us process them. Suppressing the pain won’t work, it will linger, manifesting as resentment, emotional distance, or even physical tension. Pain demands to be felt and released, not ignored.

Give yourself permission to grieve. Let the tears flow. Scream, punch a pillow, clench your fists, or shake it out. Lay down on a mat or towel, breathe into the feelings, and let them move through you. When it’s over, remind yourself: it’s time to return to life. Healing is a process, not a quick fix. Allowing yourself to feel and release your emotions is a vital step in strengthening and healing your relationships.

Talking about your feelings can lighten the burden. It can:

1. Validate your emotions:  Sharing your thoughts helps you feel heard and understood.
2. Provide clarity:  Talking through your experiences can help you uncover the root of your emotions.
3. Offer release:  Expressing your feelings allows you to release the tension of bottling them up.
4. Foster support:  Connecting with others reminds you that you’re not alone in your struggles.
5. Bring perspective:  Outside insights can help you view your relationships in a new light.
6. Teach coping strategies:  Conversations can lead to discovering tools to better navigate relational challenges.

Meditation is another powerful tool, but how it works for you will depend on your starting point. If you’re new to meditation, sitting with intense emotions might feel overwhelming, especially without a support system. You don’t need to dive to the bottom of your pain all at once. Healing takes time, and you’ll need grace and patience to navigate it. Lean on your community when needed, and take small, manageable steps forward.

Sometimes, the weight of relational grief feels so heavy that all you can do is curl up and let others care for you. If that’s where you are, let it be. If your pain isn’t as severe, remind yourself of the simple truth: this too shall pass. It might not feel comforting now, but healing is in our design. Relationships can be hard, and the pain of connection is inevitable, but so is our capacity for growth and recovery.

Relational grief and struggles are real, not imagined. They demand our attention and must be processed, not bypassed or suppressed. Nature has equipped us with tools for healing, one of the most basic being crying. Be present for this process. Don’t rush or wish it away. Observe it, feel it, and let it run its course. Emotional pain often comes with physical sensations, tightness in the chest, heaviness in the shoulders. Pay attention to these sensations and allow them to pass through you.

Above all, don’t isolate yourself. Don’t force yourself to be stoic or overly positive. There is a time for optimism, but in the heart of relational pain, allow the hurt to exist. Be compassionate toward yourself, stay active, and trust that, in time, you will come out stronger, freer, and more connected to the relationships that matter most in your life.

You Think It’s Just a Breakup, But It’s Actually an Awakening

Most of us have experienced breakups, and the emotions that follow can be profound. Breakups often trigger intense feelings of loneliness, despair, and uncertainty, especially in the initial stages. These emotions, in many cases, can be traced back to unresolved childhood issues, amplifying the pain of loss. Reflecting on my own moments of deep loneliness, I can see that the fear of never finding a life partner stems not from reality, but from those unresolved emotions and fears. It’s easy for our inner pessimist to convince us that we’ll be alone forever after a relationship ends, but this belief is only true if we allow it to be.

The purpose of writing about breakups, in the context of my broader focus on anxiety, relaxation, childhood healing, and character development, is to highlight that relationships, like everything in life, teach us valuable lessons. Pain is a powerful teacher, and it often forces us to confront parts of ourselves we might otherwise ignore. However, it’s important to remember that while pain can be instructive, love and joy are far better teachers. We want to learn the lessons of love, not just through suffering, but through cultivating harmony in our relationships, finding joy in connection, and learning to live with openness and compassion.

There may come a time when we can no longer carry on in a relationship, or perhaps our partner gives up. In these moments, there's a tremendous amount to learn from the breakup itself. The pain we experience is not just about the loss but about the opportunity for growth, introspection, and healing. It's crucial to sit with that pain, not to avoid it. A breakup allows us to reflect on our relationship patterns, anxieties, and areas where we can improve emotionally and relationally.

A helpful practice during this period of heartbreak is to affirm to yourself daily, 25 times or more, that despite the pain you're feeling, healing is on its way. Tell yourself that this separation is not the end of love, but a step toward something new and more aligned with your true self. This affirmation isn't a desperate attempt to rush through the process, but a way to prepare yourself for future happiness. It’s about keeping hope alive and opening your heart to the possibility of new, enriching love that will enhance not only your life but also the lives of those around you.

Another crucial step in healing from a breakup is conducting what I call a "full autopsy" of the relationship. Write down everything, your experiences, the key events, your feelings, and even your partner's perspective. This process isn't about blame or reliving the pain unnecessarily, but about gaining clarity and insight into what worked, what didn’t, and what you can learn. This reflection can lead to a quicker and more thorough healing process, helping you understand the dynamics that contributed to the breakup and what changes might be necessary for future relationships.

In moments of heartache, it’s essential to allow yourself to feel the waves of emotion fully. Let the memories of the relationship wash over you without pushing them away, and seek solace in supportive friends, family, or even books that offer wisdom during these difficult times. By embracing the pain and moving through it, rather than running from it, we open ourselves to true healing. 

Breakups offer us a window into our deeper selves, exposing our wounds, fears, and desires. But they also pave the way for growth and preparation for future, healthier relationships. While it's tempting to avoid the pain by rushing into something new or making desperate choices, it’s more important to take the time to heal, to reflect, and to become clear about what kind of partner and relationship will truly serve your highest good.

Ultimately, through this process, we don’t just learn about love; we also learn about ourselves. We prepare ourselves for a future where love is built on a foundation of mutual respect, understanding, and growth. And when that new love comes, it will be deeper, more meaningful, and more aligned with who we are becoming.

Healing Isn’t Moving On, It’s Moving Inward

Sorry to say, but it’s ultimately up to you to decide when you’ve had enough in a relationship. No one else can make that choice for you. However, when we choose a romantic partner and decide to engage with them, there’s something deeper at play, something we wanted, not just consciously but from the hidden recesses of our minds. It's possible that some of the things that exhaust us in relationships are projections of our own unresolved issues, the result of our inability to see ourselves clearly. Our frustrations might stem from the fact that we lack certain emotional skills, like the ability to apologize or create a sense of calm in difficult moments. Sometimes we demand things of our partner that we don’t give to ourselves, and without the right "mirrors" or self-awareness, it's difficult to recognize this dynamic.

If a relationship becomes abusive or promotes destructive behaviors, if your partner is metaphorically or literally throwing your bags out the window, it might be time to consider a strategic retreat. But here's where we need to tread carefully. When a relationship ends, or when we think about ending one, we often focus on our partner’s flaws, neglecting to examine our own triggers, the anxiety, judgments, selfishness, or neediness that color our experience. It’s crucial to reflect on how our emotional state and unresolved issues contribute to the relationship dynamic.

Before making any decisions, especially impulsive ones, it’s helpful to incorporate a practice of meditation. Sitting quietly, taking deep breaths, turning off external noise, and slowing down the trauma brain can bring much-needed clarity and stability. Sometimes it’s beneficial to talk to neutral people who aren’t invested in your best interest in a biased way but are committed to telling you the truth. These voices of reason can offer clarity when emotions are high.

But what happens if your partner refuses therapy or appears completely unreasonable? In those cases, it’s essential to shift the focus back onto yourself. You can’t control anyone else, but you can work on yourself. Ask yourself how you ended up in the relationship and why you were drawn to it in the first place. As difficult as it may be, moving through the pain can teach you about your attraction to certain dynamics. The key is maintaining your ability to return to a state of calmness, especially when relationship anxiety flares up.

Rash decisions often come from the reactive brain, a carryover from childhood when we were forced to make quick judgments for self-preservation. In adulthood, we can do things differently. We can retreat into meditation for weeks or even months to allow ourselves the time to process and reflect. This time allows us to explore unresolved childhood issues, examine our addictive patterns that block intimacy, and reduce our overall anxiety.

When we shift back into the parasympathetic nervous system, the "rest and digest" mode, we can't experience conflict in the same way. In that calm, centered state, the toxic patterns become clearer, and if the relationship truly remains toxic, you’ll find that leaving doesn’t require a forceful effort. In that space of inner peace, the decision to leave will unfold naturally, without needing external validation or advice. It will simply feel like the right next step.

The key is getting to a place of peace and clarity, where decisions aren’t made from anxiety or emotional chaos, but from a grounded understanding of what’s best for your well-being. Once you’re in that space, everything becomes more transparent, and you can move forward with confidence, knowing that your decisions align with your true self.

Exiting a toxic relationship is a brave decision, but it doesn't come easily. Often, it begins with a moment of sharp self-awareness, a quiet realization in the midst of chaos that something is deeply wrong. Recognizing the toxicity, whether it's emotional manipulation, dominance, or mistreatment, is the first bold step toward freeing yourself. Yet, even in this clarity, doubts may arise, wondering if the relationship can be salvaged, questioning your own judgment, or hoping things will change. 

But deep down, the truth remains: toxic relationships drain our energy, diminish our self-worth, and distort our view of what love should be. To escape, it's not enough to walk away physically; you must rebuild mentally and emotionally. The support network you cultivate, be it close friends, family, or a trusted therapist, will be your lifeline. These are the people who remind you of your strength when your resolve falters, the ones who offer you a safe space to plan your next move and reflect on the decisions ahead. They remind you that your bravery is not in enduring toxicity, but in reclaiming your life.

This process is much like setting sail from treacherous waters, guided by the steadfast stars of self-care and personal boundaries. You create distance from your ex-partner, change your environment, and maybe even cut off all communication if necessary. Protect your space, emotionally and physically, by securing your privacy, changing passwords, and disentangling your life from theirs. It’s an act of reclaiming your own world.

But leaving isn't always the hardest part. The real challenge is staying gone, choosing each day to nurture yourself over returning to familiar patterns of pain. During this fragile time, self-care is essential. Engage in therapy, take up new hobbies, or rediscover old passions. Lean into the activities that remind you of who you are outside of the relationship. And above all, allow time for healing.

Relationships, even toxic ones, shape us. They become mirrors, reflecting not just the good and bad in our partners, but also our deepest insecurities, fears, and childhood wounds. The pain you feel from a breakup isn't just about the loss of your partner; it's about the loss of a version of yourself that existed within that relationship. Yet, it's through this pain that growth begins. Like a shipwreck survivor washed ashore, you are given a chance to rebuild, not the same ship, but something stronger, more resilient.

Pain, while a cruel teacher, forces us to confront what we often avoid: the cracks in our foundation, the insecurities buried deep within us. And just as love is a powerful teacher, capable of healing and uplifting, pain has its place. It strips away illusions, revealing truths we may have long ignored. Breakups hurt because they force us to face our past, those childhood wounds that may have made us cling too tightly, the fears that made us shrink back. But if we allow it, this same pain can guide us to a new path, one where we finally prioritize our well-being over the fleeting comfort of familiar dysfunction.

Learning from a breakup, as painful as it is, offers profound lessons about our desires, needs, and triggers. Each heartbreak carries the seeds of wisdom. But the goal isn't just to learn from pain; it’s to move towards joy, love, and growth. Pain may have been a part of the past, but it doesn't need to dictate your future.

When we talk about weathering storms in relationships, it's crucial to understand that these turbulent times reveal not only our partner’s character but our own. The willingness to apologize, to soften anger with humility, and to seek understanding rather than victory, marks the difference between a fleeting romance and a lasting connection. Relationships, at their core, demand perseverance and patience, but they also require a shared commitment to growth, both individually and together.

Imagine this: you’re on a ship sailing through a storm, but this isn’t just any storm. It’s the storm of conflicting emotions, unresolved traumas, and misunderstandings. The waves crash, the wind howls, and panic sets in. But through it all, there’s an opportunity, if both partners are willing, to strengthen their bond. It’s the moments of chaos that test whether love can weather the storm or if it will sink under pressure.

However, if the shipwreck does occur, if the storm tears you apart, remember that breakups are also a part of life’s learning curve. Most of us have experienced at least one, and they serve as teachers, albeit harsh ones. But as we heal, we are reminded that joy and love are also part of the curriculum. It’s love, after all, that we are meant to find. It’s a mechanism of evolution, of human nature, this drive to connect, to find a partner. And when one chapter closes, another begins. Your love story is unfolding, even now, even through the pain. Somewhere out there, your mate is searching for you too.

The key is to move through the grief. Don’t avoid it or suppress it. Let the loss wash over you. Cry, write, talk, and sit with the pain. The healing will come, and you’ll emerge stronger, wiser, and ready to love again. And when you do find that new love, it will not only dull the ache of the past, but it will rewrite the narrative. That’s the beauty of life, it constantly offers us new chances to grow, love, and experience joy.

So, while it’s essential to let go of toxic relationships and weather the emotional storms of breakups, remember that these moments are steps along your journey. They aren’t the final destination. The final destination is a life lived in harmony, with yourself, your partner, and the world around you.

23 Post-Breakup Rules 

Making our way through post-breakup life requires setting boundaries to foster healing and personal growth. Here are some behaviors to consider in order to facilitate a healthy grieving process and avoid getting caught up in negative patterns that could freeze our healing or lead us back into addictive behaviors:

1. Avoid Taking Your Ex’s Inventory - Resist the urge to constantly assess your ex-partner’s faults. Taking their inventory is an attempt to protect your ego from feeling hurt, abandoned, or rejected. It might feel satisfying in the short term, but in reality, it keeps you stuck in negative emotions and prolongs your grief. Write down your grievances once if you need to let it out, then let it go.
2. Reframe the Relationship as a Mirror -  Instead of focusing on how your partner "wronged" you, recognize that the relationship likely acted as a mirror for both of you, reflecting insecurities, wounds, and unresolved issues from the past. This perspective allows for growth rather than bitterness, enabling you to shift the focus back to your own healing.
3. Recognize Abandonment as a Historical Feeling - As an adult, you can never truly be abandoned, even if the end of a relationship feels like abandonment. That’s a historical feeling, one rooted in childhood experiences. Reframing this allows you to heal more deeply and avoid getting stuck in feelings of rejection or self-pity.
4. Stop Speaking Negatively About Your Ex - The more negative things you say about your ex to protect your hurt feelings, the longer you stay in grief, or worse, skip the grief process altogether and repress your emotions. Negative talk reinforces anger, resentment, and blame, keeping you trapped in the past. Instead, acknowledge the relationship for what it was and redirect your energy toward healing.
5. Allow Grief to Run Its Course - Do not rush through the grieving process. Stay with the pain, allowing it to wash over you so it can be processed fully. Avoid the temptation to skip grief by jumping into distractions or bad-mouthing your ex to others. Keeping the focus on your own healing and growth is essential to moving through this phase healthily.
6. Find Fault in Yourself First - This doesn’t mean blaming yourself for everything that went wrong, but it’s about introspection. Ask yourself where you contributed to the relationship’s challenges. What behaviors, patterns, or insecurities did you bring into the relationship? Taking ownership of your role helps you grow and ensures you don’t repeat the same mistakes in future relationships.
7. Frame Things in a Neutral or Positive Way - When reflecting on the relationship, try to frame events neutrally or even positively. Instead of "They never appreciated me," shift the mindset to "We struggled to appreciate each other." Or "I learned a lot about what I need in a relationship." This way of thinking helps you reframe the past without getting lost in resentment.
8. Avoid Chance Encounters - Steer clear of places or situations where you might "accidentally" run into your ex. These encounters often bring a rush of emotions that can set back your healing.
9. Stay Away from Common Haunts - Just as with avoiding your ex, try to steer clear of places that you used to frequent together. Old memories may trigger emotional relapses, preventing you from moving forward.
10. Refrain from Triangulation - Mutual friends can get caught in the middle of post-breakup communication. Avoid involving them as intermediaries, as this complicates the healing process and fosters more emotional turmoil.
11. Don’t Inflict Pain - Resist the urge to hurt your ex, whether through words or actions. It’s tempting to try to "win" the breakup by proving you’re better off, but these behaviors often reflect unresolved pain. Focus on positivity and growth instead.
12. Avoid Self-Improvement for Revenge - Self-improvement should be for you, not for your ex. If you’re improving your life with the hope that your ex will notice, you’re still emotionally tied to them. Make improvements for your own benefit, to enhance your self-esteem and future relationships.
13. Let Go of Expectations - Release any hopes of your ex missing you or wanting to reconcile. When you cling to those thoughts, you hinder your own healing. Accept the situation for what it is, so you can move forward with clarity.
14.  Block or Limit Social Media Interaction - Consider blocking or unfollowing your ex on social media. Constant exposure to their life post-breakup keeps emotional wounds open and makes it harder to move on.
15.  Engage in New Activities - New hobbies and experiences form fresh, positive associations and distract you from obsessing over the past. Find joy in new challenges and opportunities that help you rebuild your life.
16. Seek Support - Rely on trusted friends, family, or a therapist to guide you through the healing process. Talking to neutral people can offer perspective and help you process difficult emotions.
17. Avoid Impulsive, Compulsive Behavior - After a breakup, people are often prone to making rash decisions. Avoid actions driven by impulse or compulsion as they rarely bring long-term satisfaction. Focus instead on mindful decisions that support your well-being.
18. Avoid Using Substances to Numb the Pain - While it’s tempting to drown your sorrows in alcohol or other substances, this only delays healing. Face your emotions head-on, even if it feels unbearable at first. Trust that the pain will subside as you work through it.
19. Create a Routine for Self-Improvement - Whether it’s meditation, writing, exercise, or improving your diet, focus on habits that boost your self-esteem and mental health. Committing to a daily routine rebuilds confidence and emotional resilience.
20. Allow Sadness and Joy to Coexist - It’s okay to feel sad, but balance it with positive, esteem-building activities like helping others or focusing on your own growth. Service to others can be a powerful way to redirect your energy and find meaning post-breakup.
21. Think of Gratitude - Even in the midst of grief, gratitude can help shift your mindset. Reflect on the lessons learned, the good times shared, and the growth that came from the relationship.
22. Reconnect with Nature - Spending time in nature, whether it's walking in the park, sitting by the ocean, or watching the sunrise, can offer a profound sense of peace and grounding. Nature has a way of reminding us of the larger picture, helping us move through personal pain.
23. Avoid Music or Media That Perpetuate Toxic Love Narratives - Choose uplifting and positive content rather than songs or movies that promote unhealthy ideas about love, heartbreak, or obsession. Surround yourself with media that inspires growth, hope, and healing.
24. Notice When You Obsess: It is crucial to pay attention, especially through mindful practices like meditation, ideally first thing in the morning. This is when we are most likely to notice the moment the mind drifts into obsession, including replaying and analyzing a dead relationship. People with higher baseline anxiety or addictive tendencies are especially prone to this loop. Remind yourself that obsession is not insight. It is avoidance. It is the nervous system flooding the body with adrenaline and other uncomfortable hormones to escape feeling the self directly. The content of the obsession matters less than the chemistry driving it. When you catch it early, redirect it deliberately. Be of service. Write. Go to therapy. Pray. Meditate. Move your body. Cry if you need to. Laugh if you can. Do not try to eliminate obsession by force. Practice replacing it. Redirect the energy toward actions that calm the system and bring you back to presence. Over time, this becomes a skill.

These “rules” are designed not just to distance yourself from your ex-partner but to prioritize your emotional well-being, learn from the experience, and ultimately prepare for a healthier and more fulfilling future.

Co-Parenting With an Emotional Toddler: How to Stay Sane, Strong, and Protect Your Child When Your Ex Becomes the Enemy

People often stay together long after the relationship has soured, because of a child they both love. But if there were some magical strategy for getting along gracefully after separation, we likely would have used it to stay together in the first place. Separation is brutal. Trading off time with your child is heartbreak at the cellular level.

And it gets messier. Your ex will likely find someone new, and so will you. Now everyone has to deal with a stranger. Step-parenting is f**king hard, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing, and even more so if you come from a blended family filled with trauma, discomfort, and resentment.

Being a central figure in your partner’s child’s life is a daunting task. It should be studied, approached with humility, and supported by self-work. If you're stepping into a blended family, you need to be in therapy yourself, not just to cope, but to accelerate your personal development. Because now, it’s not just your emotional baggage in the mix, it’s other people’s children, and they deserve the best version of you.

Separation is no longer just about personal heartbreak. It’s a high-stakes mission to protect your child’s development while navigating projection, pain, and power plays. And unfortunately, the person you once trusted may now act more like a rival than a partner.

Let’s cut to the truth: you can’t control them. But you can control yourself. You can create a sustainable, effective strategy.

Most relationships don’t end cleanly. One or both partners is left deeply wounded, operating from unconscious patterns, blame, manipulation, retaliation, and yes, sometimes, even using the child to gain leverage. The anger your partner suppresses might show up as emotional distance from their own child. As if the child bears responsibility for the adult’s undeveloped character, unresolved trauma, or complete lack of coping skills. It’s absurd, but it’s real.

Co-parenting is hard. Solo parenting is harder. The first wave of conflict usually shows up around money, scheduling, new romantic interests, screen time, diet, discipline. You name it.

Sometimes, to add insult to injury, there are substance abuse issues or behavioral traits that reveal a deeper degeneracy. It’s heartbreaking, but it demands a plan.

Step One: Drop the Judgment, and the Fantasy: They are not going to become the emotionally mature version of themselves just because you want them to. Treat them like a teenager in need of structure. Or better yet, like your eldest child, because that’s who they are now: impulsive, defensive, erratic.

Speak without sarcasm. Without disdain. Use measured, direct communication. You don’t need their validation. You need their cooperation. Sometimes, that means bypassing their ego. Trick them into doing the right thing if you must. Think tactically, not romantically.

Step Two: Stop Regretting: You made choices. Own them. The past isn’t coming back. Work with what’s here now.

Step Three: Do Not Threaten: No aggressive postures. No psychological warfare. Don’t stand in a way that could be perceived as intimidating.

Step Four: Never Show Them Their Tactics Work: Remain calm. Do not show vulnerability unless it is truly safe. Assume your ex is not your ally, until proven otherwise.

Step Five: Get Into Therapy. Bring the Kid. No exceptions. Therapy is not optional if the situation is high conflict.

Step Six: Model Respectful Co-Parenting: Even if it’s hard, show your child that you and your ex respect each other. Fake it until it becomes real.

Step Seven - Invest in Peace Now or Pay in Chaos Later: Anything you avoid today will come back louder tomorrow. Handle your business.

Step Eight - Own Your Part: Even if your ex is a total nightmare, you chose them. Your child needs to love both parents. Don’t give them mixed signals. Protect their right to love their other parent.

Step Nine: Don’t Feed the Drama: Don’t react. Don’t escalate. Here’s a trick: have a calm friend on speakerphone during drop-offs. Make it seem casual. People act better when they're being observed.

When Things Are Not Amicable - If you're not in a cooperative co-parenting setup, don’t give mixed signals. No gifts. No flirty texts. Keep communication in writing.

Examples:

"Hello Anne, I hope your weekend was great. I plan to drop off Toddler Tom at 4pm today. Does that work for you? Thank you."

"Good morning Jason. I know Toddler Terry’s well-being is your top priority. During drop-off, I think it's important that we both smile and appear calm so she feels safe. Is that something you agree with?"

"Hi Anderson, I hope your trip was successful. Lionel has shown anxiety when we change plans. I’m hoping we can stick to our agreed schedule. I know he loves your family, but I feel it’s important that I am there for him when you’re away. What are your thoughts?"

"Hello Victoria, I understand our situation is difficult, but I need to ask you to stop cursing at me. Your anger is valid, but please express it in a way that doesn’t feel abusive."

"Good day Peter, happy birthday. Our daughter loves you. This first year of separation has been tough, but I appreciate the effort you’ve made."

"Dear Jessica, David seems like a great guy and Naomi seems comfortable around him. I do have one concern: it seems he leaves her in front of the TV often. Do you have a better idea for long-term care when you're not around?"

Keep your tone neutral. Keep your messages short. Keep written records. Keep moving forward.

Think: Surgeon with a Scalpel, Not a Mirror - Your ex may have all the tools in the world. But they can’t operate on themselves. They can’t see their blind spots. Your job is not to fix them. Your job is to keep yourself emotionally clean and your child safe.

So what does healing look like?

Therapy. Yoga. Journaling. Breathwork. Lighting candles instead of lighting them up. Let your nervous system guide your parenting, not your ego.

Your Child Needs a Sanctuary, Not a War Zone: Even on your hardest days, remember this: I will not pass my unresolved pain onto my child.

You will not teach her that love is revenge. You will not teach her that parenting is warfare.

Sometimes humor helps. Sometimes it won’t. Know the difference. And when your ex is too far gone, too bitter, too broken, put up the firmest boundary.

When the Pain Spills Onto Your Child - If your ex uses your child as a pawn, it’s time to act. Legal action. Therapy. Intervention. Whatever it takes.

You don’t negotiate with someone who endangers your child’s emotional or physical safety.

Regulate Yourself First: When conflict arises, don’t collapse. Don’t explode. Regulate. You don’t need to win. You need to lead.

The Legacy of Consistency: In the end, your child will remember how you showed up. Not the drama. Not the excuses.

They will remember that you stayed. That you tried. That you never made them choose sides.

This isn’t about raising a child in a perfect home. It’s about raising them in a conscious one.

Let that be your legacy.

We’re Not Crazy, We’re Just Carrying Generations of Pain

In navigating our adulthood, there’s no quick fix or miracle cure to cleanse our minds of negativity. The human brain doesn’t simply discard the impressions and memories it gathers throughout life. Instead, it stores information from our senses, sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste, that forms our consciousness and shapes our experiences. Our bodies, much like our minds, become incredible repositories of these sensory snapshots.

In today’s modern, fast-paced society, it’s easy to lose sight of life’s deeper purpose. Fear often dominates our actions, a byproduct of a world filled with stressors. This, compounded by the lasting imprints of childhood trauma, whether from family dysfunction, neglect, or direct abuse, shapes how we navigate relationships and our own emotional world. These early wounds often resurface unexpectedly, triggered by everyday interactions, relationships, or stressful moments.

Grieving over the loss of a relationship, or any other significant loss, brings to light the deep complexities of human emotion. A powerful model for understanding grief is the Five Stages of Grief by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross: Denial, a shield against the initial shock of loss; Anger, as frustration and helplessness surface; Bargaining, the attempt to negotiate our way out of pain; Depression, a deep sadness from confronting the reality of loss; and finally, Acceptance, the gradual acknowledgment of the new reality. These stages don’t follow a linear path, but they remind us that grief is a process. Grieving doesn’t mean simply "getting over it," but instead, it requires moving through the pain, acknowledging each emotion as it arises.

It’s important to realize that negative emotions, such as grief, sadness, and anger, are often rooted in anxiety. Anxiety stirs up these feelings, heightening our sense of unease. To manage these emotions, breathing becomes essential. Conscious, deep breathing helps regulate the central nervous system, grounding us in moments when the mind spirals into obsessive thoughts. It’s inevitable to feel anxious during the grieving process, but by simply observing your breath, you can disrupt the cycle of anxiety and regain some control.

In intimate relationships, the end of a partnership can feel like an emotional earthquake, unearthing old wounds and unresolved trauma. These buried emotions, often traces of childhood hurts, resurface, demanding attention. While it’s easy to place blame externally, focusing on your partner’s shortcomings, true healing lies in turning the focus inward. Instead of staying stuck in negative self-talk or feeding feelings of abandonment and rejection, it’s crucial to remember that these are historical feelings, not the reality of the present moment. As adults, we are never truly "abandoned." Reframing the narrative allows us to see that the relationship was a mirror reflecting both partners’ unresolved issues.

When we allow ourselves to truly feel the pain of a breakup, instead of avoiding or numbing it, we initiate healing. Pain is a great teacher, but so are joy and love. Through this process, we learn about our capacity for love, our triggers, and the ways in which we can improve. It’s essential to remind yourself that the grief and heartache you experience are temporary. A new love story is waiting to unfold, and your future partner is searching for you just as you are searching for them. This faith in love’s enduring presence can be comforting amidst heartbreak.

Moreover, opening up blocked emotions is an important step in any healing journey. Negative emotions, if left unexamined, become toxic, surfacing as defensiveness, anxiety, or withdrawal in relationships. These blockages often stem from unresolved childhood experiences or long-buried trauma. Relationships offer an opportunity to uncover these hidden parts of ourselves, but they require both vulnerability and courage. Sharing this journey with a partner can lead to profound personal growth and a deeper connection, but it’s important to address these wounds with honesty and care.

As you work through emotions, remember that they exist in a broad spectrum. It’s not only important to identify negative emotions like anger, fear, and sadness, but also to cultivate positive emotions like love, joy, gratitude, and hope. Both are equally necessary in shaping our experiences. The key to emotional health is to allow each feeling to flow naturally, neither suppressing nor exaggerating its presence. 

For most of us, these emotions are deeply intertwined with our experiences of anxiety. Negative emotions are often stirred up by anxiety, and it’s easy to become trapped in a cycle of fear, sadness, and obsessive thinking. This is why it’s crucial to become aware of when we’re spiraling and use tools like mindful breathing, meditation, or writing to bring ourselves back to the present moment.

Lastly, breaking free from toxic relationships requires not just leaving physically, but also untangling the mental and emotional attachments. It’s an act of bravery to leave behind something familiar, no matter how damaging it was, and to step into the unknown. Building a support system is essential, whether that’s friends, family, or a therapist, to remind you of your strength and to provide guidance when your resolve weakens. It's important to allow yourself to grieve the relationship and recognize that the pain is a teacher, guiding you toward better choices and healthier connections in the future.

In the end, the goal is not to avoid emotions, but to understand them, process them, and move through them with awareness. This is where breathwork, meditation, and self-reflection come into play. By staying grounded and practicing self-awareness, we can navigate the complexities of grief, anxiety, and emotional pain with greater ease, ultimately leading to growth, healing, and deeper love.

Repeat this affirmation: "Every day, I choose to release the past and embrace the present. I am a resilient creator of my life, transforming every experience into wisdom. With each breath, I invite peace and healing, weaving a tapestry of love and understanding in my relationships and throughout the world."

Crying Isn’t Weakness. It’s the Gateway to Our Strength. 

Humans appear to be in an emotionally shut-down place for many thousands of years. This indicates a universal problem in our coping mechanisms since the beginning of our history. So there’s nothing new about problems with emotions and intimacy. 

It seems common that we move through our days feeling only a fraction of what we could, maybe 10 out of 50+ feelings at most. We learned to keep ourselves numb, burying emotions under a busy schedule of activity, coffee, work, movement, yoga, writing, excitement, adrenaline, and 50,000 distractions. We built fortresses around our childhood pain and adult fears, using our creativity, adaptiveness, philosophies, and narratives.

With half our lives behind us, we’re only now starting to recognize the desire to feel something more than anxiety at one extreme and euphoria at the other. We know there’s a whole spectrum of emotions in between, but for most of our lives, those emotions have been inaccessible. We’ve had to lie in bed, alone, just breathing, thinking through our lives in painstaking detail, working for years to try and shed a single tear. We’ve longed to grieve our losses and painful moments to their completion, to release them fully or at least bring some kind of closure.

There’s a strange emptiness in being unable to cry, in feeling disconnected from the natural ebb and flow of our emotional lives. And yet, we know we’re not alone. Many of us bury our pain so deep that we lose touch with the very mechanisms that help us heal. But we don’t have to go through this alone or spend years figuring it out the hard way. Today, we have more resources, more knowledge about healing, and more support than ever before.

There is so much power in crying when it’s deliberate, intentional, and tied to real feelings we need to process. We’ve been conditioned to think of tears as weakness or something to avoid. But crying is not only natural, it’s necessary. It’s a way to release the buildup of grief, sadness, and even anger we’ve held inside for too long. When we let ourselves go into the sadness and feel it fully, something shifts. We learn to touch the depths of our emotions and, crucially, how to come back out.

For many of us, feeling has been a slow process, a gradual unfolding of emotions we’ve kept locked away. But we’ve come to realize that crying isn’t just about sadness; it’s about honoring the pain we’ve carried, acknowledging the parts of us that have been wounded, and finally giving ourselves permission to feel those things fully. It’s about sitting with discomfort, with ache, with loss, and realizing that even in that raw vulnerability, there is healing.

If we’ve found it difficult to access our emotions, let’s lean into that discomfort. There’s a reason those feelings are buried, but they aren’t meant to stay hidden forever. Our tears are a way to cleanse, to release what no longer serves us, and to make space for something new, something lighter, freer.

We hope to do better with our emotional healing work. We want to feel the full spectrum of emotions, to cry when we need to, and to grieve when we must. Some of us spent years trying to figure it out alone, through reading, therapy, talking, and endless reflection. But we don’t have to go through that same struggle. We can allow ourselves to feel, to break open, and to heal in ways we never did when we were younger.

There is something profoundly healing in learning how to be with our sadness, in letting ourselves be vulnerable enough to cry. It’s not about wallowing; it’s about releasing what’s been trapped inside for too long. It’s about making space for the real emotions beneath the surface, giving them room to breathe, and allowing ourselves to return to a place of balance and peace.

We don’t have to stay shut down. There is a better way, and it starts with allowing ourselves to feel fully, to move through the discomfort and come out on the other side, lighter and more connected than ever before.

When we think about crying, we often focus on the psychology behind it, but we don’t always consider the biology, chemistry, or mechanics of how it works from start to finish.

Looking at this healing work objectively, its main benefit is that it teaches us to breathe, relax, and observe our reactions. By calming our minds, we find a way to pause and change our actions. This has been a game-changer. There’s no hard science behind it, just common sense and lived experience. We aren’t trying to be pioneers or gurus. We’re just humans, learning from our mistakes, staying grounded, and doing the best we can.

One of the most important things we’ve learned is the value of letting ourselves cry. It’s a way to release something inside us, just like how anger or rage can make us want to scream as a release of pent-up pressure. But sometimes, anger doesn’t truly get released; it just bounces back or gets stuck. A better way to handle it might be to breathe through it, let it pass through, and resist reacting. Then, pause and reflect, see if there’s grief or sadness beneath the anger. Are there old wounds we need to grieve to finally let go?

A wise teacher once said that the root of anxiety is believing our trauma is personal, that we are to blame for the pain around us or that we’re unworthy because we weren’t loved the way we needed. This belief can be embedded deeply and quietly erode self-esteem. That’s where so much of our chaos comes from.

Did anxiety first creep into humanity and lead us to raise children in chaotic, traumatic environments, or was it trauma that created the anxiety? Either way, we were taught to suppress our emotions. If we were close to a parent who never cried, or if we were shamed or punished for crying, we may have developed a shut-off switch. We may have learned that crying wasn’t allowed.

We’ve noticed that many women seem to cry more easily than men, but that’s just an observation. Some of us only cry every few years, and usually over something that seems silly in hindsight, like a heroic movie death. But even that emotional reaction is valid. We’ve been taught to suppress a natural response that’s entirely compatible with our consciousness.

Crying is one of our best healing mechanisms, and it’s been shut down. Why?

Why do we cry when we’re sad? Or laugh until we cry? It’s fascinating that such opposite emotions produce the same reaction. Sadness builds up like a storm, and tears begin to flow. It’s our body releasing what our words cannot.

Tears are how we express deep emotion. They signal distress, and they connect us to others. When we cry, others often move toward us. It’s a biological invitation for connection and support.

So, tears aren’t just drops of water, they’re messengers. They bridge the space between isolation and belonging.

If we’re trying to reconnect with this response, we can start by meditating on the idea that crying is healthy. Reflect on what makes us anxious about it. Are we afraid we won’t stop? That it’s shameful? That we’re weak? Let’s replace those beliefs with something truer: tears cleanse, they release, they heal.

We can also try watching films that move us, paying attention to what stirs emotion. Do we feel relief? Do we feel shame? If crying feels unsafe, it’s time to ask ourselves why, and work to release those old beliefs.

Many of us avoid feeling by staying in our heads. We overthink. We plan. We distract. But reconnecting with emotions means we must stop the cycle and just be.

That’s why the core of our work is learning to calm anxiety. When we’re grounded, we can feel without fear. We can breathe through the waves of emotion and watch them move through us without drowning.

For those who cry easily: great. Let’s take it further. Let’s start writing about those emotions. Where do they come from? What are they connected to? What are they teaching us?

As we age, we start to see that our emotional patterns are shaped not just by childhood, but also by past relationships, unhealed betrayals, or unresolved grief. We’re not just victims, we bring our own baggage into the room. Even in abusive dynamics, we may play a role in the continuation of the pain. Recognizing this gives us power to change.

To get out of anxiety and find lasting peace, we must do deep inner work. Beneath our anxiety are layers: anger, then sadness, then hurt. And beneath it all, our truest self, waiting to be known and loved.

We all carry wounds. All of us.

Anxiety distracts us from facing the original pain. But it’s time to feel those old hurts. To cry those long-stored tears. To let the energy move through us and finally release what no longer serves.

This is the work. This is the journey. We wish we’d known it sooner, but we’re here now.

Crying isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom. It’s medicine. It’s one of the ways we find our way back to wholeness.

Let’s not be afraid to go there.

What Is a Feeling?

(And Why It’s Never Just One Thing)

Now feels like the right time to ask: what are feelings, really?

We all recognize the basics, positive and negative emotions, the fact that they “feel” like something. But what does that actually mean? What is a feeling?We throw around the word feeling like we all agree on what it means. But most of us never pause to ask: What is a feeling, really?

At first glance, we treat it like a single event. “I feel sad.” “I’m angry.” “I feel nothing.” But dig a little deeper and it becomes clear: a feeling is not one thing. It’s a system. A symphony. A loop.

What we call a “feeling” is the result of four forces working in unison: Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Emotion.

They arise together, instantly and inseparably. Each one is tangled with the others, impossible to isolate except by language and the reductionist bias of modern science.

A thought emerges, conscious or subconscious. That thought sparks a sensation in the body: pressure in the chest, tightness in the throat, heat rising in the face. The nervous system reacts, and a chemical response floods our bloodstream, dopamine, adrenaline, cortisol, oxytocin, serotonin, the alphabet soup of our inner weather.

Those chemicals reinforce more thoughts. Those thoughts amplify more sensations. And then comes the outward expression: The Emotion. From the Latin emovere, to move out, emotion is the final act in the loop. It’s the movement of all that internal energy being released through the body. A tear. A scream. A posture. A smile. Emotion is the verb, the visible consequence of everything stirring inside.

In this way, emotion isn’t just a “feeling” in your heart, it’s the body’s response to a psychological, physiological, and chemical story unfolding in real time.

Think of heartbreak: The trigger might be rejection. The feeling may register as shame. But what really happens is a chain reaction: a spike in stress hormones, a clenching of muscles, a flood of memories, a narrowing of attention, and then, finally, a wave of sadness that pours out as tears, silence, or fury.

Most of us only notice that final act. We call that the feeling. But the real power lies in seeing the whole loop.

Why does this matter?

Because when we’re stuck, grieving, raging, craving, panicking, we often try to manage emotions in isolation. But that’s like trying to stop a flood by yelling at the rain. Instead, we can follow the water upstream:

What was the thought?

What was the sensation?

What’s happening in my chemistry?

And how is all of this expressed as emotion?

When we understand the loop, we stop being victims of it. We become observers, participants, and eventually, creators. We can learn to pause. To breathe. To choose.

And from that place, even the most overwhelming emotions become not enemies to fear, but waves to surf.

This doesn’t mean we bypass or suppress emotion. Quite the opposite. It means we learn how to ride it all the way in. We begin to feel in full color, not just the sadness or rage, but the thousands of threads beneath it. The tangled causes. The hidden chemistry. The aching beauty of being alive in a body with a history.

So the next time you say, “I feel sad,” pause and ask: What’s the thought? What’s the sensation? What’s happening in my chemistry? And how am I moving it outward?

That awareness won’t solve everything, but it’s the beginning of mastery. Not control. Not perfection. But presence.

And in presence, we begin to heal.

The Breath Can Make All Feelings More Manageable

Now that we’ve explored the full loop, Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Emotion, a door opens.

It’s the door to choice.

Even just a small glimpse of this internal pattern allows our higher self, what I call the inner observer, the silent presence behind the chaos, to intervene in a new way. Not to repress emotion. Not to override it. But to regulate it. To soften its edge. To help us stay conscious in the storm.

And the most powerful tool for doing that? The breath.

Breathing is the only function of the autonomic nervous system we can consciously control.

You can’t slow your heartbeat by willpower. You can’t command your digestion to behave. But you can slow your breath. You can deepen it, shape the inhale, extend the exhale, and in doing so, send a powerful signal to your entire body: We are safe. We are calm. We are here.

That signal doesn’t just interrupt the old stress loop, it begins to rewire it.

Instead of: Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Emotion → Reaction, we now get: Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Conscious Breathing → Nervous System Regulation → Manageable Emotion.

The breath becomes the pivot point.

In the old pattern, emotional reactivity often came from shallow, erratic, or completely shut-down breathing. Under stress or fear, most people unconsciously tighten their chest, hold their breath, or breathe in fast, jittery bursts. That reaction amplifies the body’s panic. It reinforces the chemistry of anxiety and prepares the body for fight, flight, or freeze, whether the threat is real or imagined.

This is how we end up stuck in the old loop: Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Shallow Breathing → Emotional Explosion → Impulsive or Compulsive Behavior.

But with training, we can reprogram the loop.

When we consistently practice conscious, full, steady breathing, especially under pressure, we install a new default: Thought → Sensation → Chemistry → Calm Breathing → Emotional Regulation → Conscious, Intentional Action.

This is not a quick fix. It takes time. Just like learning an instrument, breathing well must be practiced regularly, until it becomes second nature. The goal is not to become some robot who never reacts emotionally. It’s to build a reliable inner tool that keeps you from being overwhelmed by your own chemistry.

Good breathing is not suppression. It’s channeling. It’s like digging a trench to divert a flood, not denying the water, but giving it a path to flow that doesn’t destroy everything in its wake.

When we breathe with awareness, the entire organism gets the memo: “We are not under attack. We are alive, and we can choose.”

So breathe now. Breathe like your sanity depends on it. Because it does.

Here’s some food for thought: what we call a “mood” is likely just a lingering feeling.

Moods, positive or negative, aren’t just mental states; they’re physical experiences too. The body feels them the same way it feels a soft pillow, a rough edge, a pleasant scent, or a sudden chill.