You’re Not Broken — You’re Healing (Even If It Doesn’t Feel Like It Yet)

Let me guess. You’re trying to “move on,” but your heart is moving at dial-up speed while everyone else expects 5G.

One day you feel okay enough to answer messages, laugh at a random meme, maybe even cook something that isn’t just toast. Then the next morning, a song, a smell, or one tiny memory knocks the air out of your chest all over again. And suddenly you’re back at square one, wondering if you’re doing healing wrong.

You’re not.

I need you to hear this like a close friend saying it over coffee: heartbreak is not a clean staircase. It’s messy, circular, and weirdly dramatic. You can feel peaceful at 2 p.m. and cry in your shower at 9 p.m. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.

The first truth nobody says enough

When a relationship ends, you’re not only grieving a person. You’re grieving routines, inside jokes, future plans, your old identity, and the version of yourself who believed this was “it.” That’s a lot. Of course your nervous system is overwhelmed.

People love to say, “Just stay busy.” And sure, being busy can help, but it doesn’t heal by itself. You can fill every hour and still feel empty in the quiet moments. Real healing happens when you stop treating your pain like a problem to solve and start treating it like a wound to care for.

You don’t need to rush the timeline

There is no gold medal for “fastest recovery after heartbreak.” You don’t get bonus points for pretending you’re fine. And you definitely don’t owe anyone a polished, inspirational comeback arc in 30 days.

Healing is often boring, repetitive work:

• not texting them when your fingers itch to do it,
• eating a real meal even when your appetite vanished,
• going for a walk because your mind won’t stop spiraling,
• sleeping without stalking their profile first.

These tiny choices don’t look dramatic, but they are the foundation. They are what slowly teach your body: “I am safe. I can survive this.”

Missing them doesn’t mean you should go back

This one hurts, but it matters.

You can miss someone deeply and still know the relationship wasn’t right for you. Those two truths can exist at the same time. Missing someone is often your nervous system missing familiarity, not necessarily your soul asking for reconciliation.

Familiar pain can feel safer than unfamiliar peace. That’s why so many people go back to relationships that drained them. Not because they’re weak — because they’re scared of the unknown. If that’s you, no shame. Just awareness.

Before you send that “hey” text, ask yourself honestly:

• Do I miss them, or do I miss not feeling lonely?
• Do I want them, or do I want relief from this moment?
• If nothing changed, would going back heal me or reopen me?

You already know the answer. You just need courage to trust it.

Your brain after heartbreak is not objective

When we’re hurting, our memory edits reality. It makes the good moments glow and blurs out the parts that broke us. Suddenly we remember the sweet messages, the late-night calls, the forehead kisses — but forget the anxiety, confusion, and emotional exhaustion.

Try this: write two lists.

List A: what you miss.
List B: what actually hurt.

Keep both lists. Read them together when nostalgia tries to trick you into rewriting history. Healing needs honesty, not fantasy.

The version of you who loved deeply is still a gift

After heartbreak, many people become suspicious of their own heart. “I was too much.” “I trusted too easily.” “I’ll never open up like that again.”

But loving deeply was never your flaw.

Your tenderness, your loyalty, your willingness to show up — those are beautiful qualities. The goal is not to become colder. The goal is to become wiser about where you place that love.

You don’t need to harden your heart to protect it. You need boundaries, self-respect, and better filters.

What healing can look like this week

Not in theory. In real life.

• Set one boundary: mute, unfollow, or archive what keeps reopening the wound.
• Move your body: ten minutes counts. Emotion gets stuck in the body; movement helps release it.
• Talk to one safe person: not the person who says “just get over it,” but someone who listens without rushing you.
• Create one tiny ritual: tea at night, morning journaling, sunset walks. Predictable softness calms chaos.
• Celebrate one win daily: “I got out of bed.” “I didn’t check their page.” “I laughed once.” Small wins are still wins.

You’re rebuilding trust with yourself. That takes repetition, not perfection.

And yes, joy will return

I know right now that might sound like a cheesy quote on a beige background, but it’s true. One day, you’ll wake up and realize the ache is quieter. Their name won’t punch your chest the same way. You’ll tell the story without shaking.

Then one random afternoon, you’ll catch yourself fully present — laughing, planning, feeling alive again — and you’ll realize healing happened while you were busy just trying to get through the day.

Not because you forced it. Because you stayed. Because you were brave enough to feel, and keep going anyway.

So if nobody told you this today, let me: you are not behind. You are not weak. You are not broken.

You’re healing.

And honestly? You’re doing better than you think.

Photo credit: Giles Laurent. Source: Wikimedia Commons.