Heartbreak. It’s an inevitable part of our lives that we can’t seem to run away from. It stings you, it shakes your whole being, and it leaves you reaching for anything that you can hold on to. It is a coming of age marker in your life that can either leave you broken or reborn.
When I turned twenty, the whole life that I thought I had was shattered by the one person I thought would always keep me afloat. I had never known what a broken heart felt like until that day and no amount of advice could prepare me for that experience. My life that I had known for three years vanished with just a few words exchanged. You think that you know someone inside and out, until one day they are just a ghost that lives inside your heart and won’t get out.
Life had thrown me a hell of a curveball and for a while, I let it slowly burn me from my toes to my fingertips.
I’m not going to lie. Being broken hearted was not easy. In fact, it was disgustingly hard. Harder than anything I have ever experienced. And I could have chosen to let it run me over. I could have let the embers turn red and I could have destroyed the rest of me that wasn’t touched by him. I wasn’t used to taking care of myself. I wasn’t used to being forced to eat, forced to get out of bed, and forced to live.
But I lived and I keep living. The thing about being broken hearted is that when you’re in that state of mind, you think it’s going to last forever. And you think you won’t be able to save yourself because you don’t care enough. But with each day that ticked by, with each month that passed by, my cells were reborn. My skin was refreshed. My eyes turned brighter. My tears slowed down.
And my lips began to be ok without kissing the boy I loved.
It’s three years later and I’m still hurting. I’m still healing. While the rest of body has begun anew, a tiny piece of my heart will always be cracked. You are always going to have a tiny bullet hole in it that won’t ever get back to what it used to be. But, I chose to begin again. I chose not to let an organ in my body take me down. I chose to grow, to multiply and to let the light shine through the crack in my heart.
And guess what? I’m happier now than I was when I was with him. I am my own person now and I don’t let another human being define me. I know how to take care of myself now and I know how to love myself. If you have someone else loving you for so long, you slowly forget who your authentic self is. Heartbreak woke me up to myself. And it woke up me up to adore myself instead of adoring someone else.
Sure, the journey to get here was long and slow, but I can finally say that heartbreak was the best thing that ever happened to me (really).
By Lauren Jarvis-Gibson
Culled from thoughtcatalog.com