H is for Hurt
Hurt. Heartbreak. Heal. I wish it were that easy. As easy as taking a misstep and falling down; granted, it hurts (sometimes like hell), but you can get back up, brush yourself off, and move on. Sometimes, when it comes to matters of the heart, however, it’s just not that easy. It may be that simple, but it is never seemingly that simple or ever easy. At least not for me…
When I think back to that day—the day my husband left me—the amount of hurt that I experienced, it was a kind of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone. There are few other experiences in my life where I felt pain like that; something so incredibly devastating that you are left at a complete loss. There is no script for this.
When I think back to that day—the day my husband left me—the amount of hurt that I experienced, it was a kind of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone. There are few other experiences in my life where I felt pain like that; something so incredibly devastating that you are left at a complete loss. There is no script for this. No right or wrong way, really, to react—you just do. With the strength you somehow find within you, you find the words you need to say. I know I didn’t know what to do next, but I also, thankfully, didn’t have to face those next few hours alone. (My marriage ended over a phone call, so I truly was alone in that moment.) My best friend’s birthday party was that night; so even though I had no idea how I was going to keep it together that night, I made myself go. Being there with her was the absolute best place I could be in that moment. I was not alone. And even though I did lose it a few times that night, it was okay; my best friend, while it was her birthday, was able to be there for me in those moments of acute pain. I am so incredibly grateful to her for having me over that night, for her strength in my weakness, and for every single day she has been there for me since. I know that, despite how awful those first few weeks were for me, her actions and unfailing love and support strengthened our friendship.
…not everyone can sit with you in the pain; not everyone can or will take the time to simply show up for you. But the ones that do, and continue to do so? Those are the kind of genuine, lifelong friends you want to have in your life.
I am sharing this because, should you ever find yourself in a similar situation in life, you will need all the love and support you can get—reach out and ask for it. You cannot get through it alone. Just know that not everyone in your life may show up for you in the ways you might expect. Learn to somehow come to peace with this. One of the hardest truths I had to come to grips with in the months that followed was that not everyone can sit with you in the pain; not everyone can or will take the time to simply show up for you. But the ones that do, and continue to do so? Those are the kind of genuine, lifelong friends you want to have in your life. Don’t ever take them for granted, and if you are ever asked to, choose them—fight for them. That’s the kind of relationship you want to fight for. Let go of those that don’t choose you. “People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime,” as the expression goes. Try to accept that in your life.
Things I learned in the hurt:
With the capacity to love greatly comes the capacity to hurt greatly, in seemingly equal proportion to the former. It can feel debilitating at times, but you can survive it.
It is okay to grieve, to cry; there is no shame in that. (For me that meant breaking down crying, in public, and far more often than I wanted or expected to.) You have experienced a tremendous loss and you need to process and grieve that loss. Don’t feel like you have to hide your grief or be ashamed of the way you need to grieve.
I have absolutely zero control over the wave of grief that will hit me; no control over the when or the where, and, as I mentioned before, the subsequent crying that will inevitably follow. I am incredibly grateful for the people at my work that gave me the time and space I needed to grieve, and especially to those who cared enough to talk to me about what I was going through; who could, simply put, get a little uncomfortable to be there for me in those moments.
To take each and every day as it comes. Today may suck, and I may cry—a lot. But I got through it. And tomorrow will be better.
That as much as you want to hit the fast-forward button and get back to a place of normalcy, of feeling ‘okay’ again, that it really does just take time. And, despite whatever mathematical equation some people may tell you to follow to find out how long that will take, there is simply no magic number or equation that can give you that number—your number. It’s just not that easy. You, and your relationship—you are and were unique. No equation or person can tell you when you will start to feel normal again, or when you will be ready to start seeing other people and begin dating again. Just know that, one day, you will be.
Unfortunately (as I had to find out) there is no fast-forward button for that; it will take time. Whether that’s two months, six months, or two years, it is going to take however long you need it to take. And it has to be intentional. You need to process what has happened, and what you need and want in your life now that this has happened. And, it is my hope, you can take that moment to see what you needed to learn from the relationship. We are all human and imperfect by nature, which means we made mistakes. If we don’t stop to look back at the things we did that didn’t work well for us or for them, we are doomed to simply repeat the same mistakes going forward. It takes mindfulness and intention to break that cycle and to do it differently the next time
As for me, a part of my sharing this is because I desperately wanted to find my fast-forward button. I had my husband of eleven years leave me and it hurt like hell. But I refused to let this event define the rest of my life. It was, to be fair, a huge part of my life (I wouldn't be the person I am today had I not gone through that), but it does not define who I am for the rest of my life. I know so many people who have gotten ‘stuck’ after a similar loss; I find it so incredibly sad to watch someone allow their anger and/or resentment towards their ex to take over them, essentially putting their life at a stand-still. Honestly, it breaks my heart. If you don’t find a way to resolve that hurt or anger you will carry it with you (even unintentionally so) into your future relationships.
So, for me, I was very intentional following the end of my marriage. I allowed myself to feel it all—all the hurt, all the pain. I wanted to get through it as fast as possible; to get back to my ‘normal.’ While I would eventually find the pain would unexpectedly surface again, allowing myself that time to grieve the loss of my marriage was a huge part of my healing. I know that not everyone is built the same in that way, and you may need to compartmentalize some of that hurt, in the beginning, to find a way to just function. But, just know that you must eventually face the pain and hurt you have stored away. You will find, as I did, the only way to truly have an open heart that is ready to give and to receive love again requires you to have it open. If you are still hurting, your heart cannot be open. So, as much as it hurt, I allowed myself to feel it all; because, despite the heartbreak I was experiencing, I wanted to someday find a way to love again, as unimaginable as it was in that moment.
I will leave you with one final, but really important thing that I learned in the months following the end of my marriage. For those of you that don’t already know this, I have a background (and now a bachelors degree) in Psychology. One of the things I learned in my years of study that really stood out to me was that as adults, change, real true change, is incredibly rare. With that said, there are a few key moments in life that are anomalies to this rule: big life events, such as the death of a loved one, divorce, job loss, a traumatic life event, etc. When an event like this happens, there exists the possibility for true change. I’m sure most can think of an example of someone they know where this has been the case.
In the wake of my divorce these words held a tremendous amount of hope for me. Despite everything that had led to that moment, that day I knew that I had the ability to change everything going forward. I felt that I could take something awful and truly have something good come from it, and I did. All the things I wanted to do, I did. I wanted to become aware of the things in my life that weren’t completely in line with the person I truly wanted to be in life; with that, I began to identify these things and shift my personality towards the person I truly desired to be. I’m not going to say ‘change,’ because I don’t believe you can truly change who you are in a polar opposite way. But I do believe each of us has the ability to shift who we are to be more aligned with the person we want to be. I know in the months that followed I had never felt more alive or free than I did then. It made me so happy to see the transformation in my own life, and particularly when friends began to notice and comment on the changes they were seeing as well. Change is never easy, as I’m finding true even today, but don’t doubt the power you have to influence the change you want to make in your own life. It is possible; again, it requires mindfulness and intention, but it is absolutely possible.
I write about my hurt because I want you to know that, through all of that: the hurt, the heartache, the healing, there is hope. You are stronger and more resilient than you know. And you will be even stronger and more beautiful for having gone through this. Take heart and know that, even in this, you are never alone.
Sabrina Michele