They say with every ending comes a new beginning, but they forgot to mention the space between. It’s not as simple as closing one door and opening another. There is an intense grieving, a mourning period, that happens between chapters. A passageway through a long, dark tunnel where the hard work of healing, self-soothing and rebuilding happens before we get to the next door—a tunnel that on some days feels like it might never end.
It’s a time when being present is impossible because we are in a constant dance between the memories of our past and the visions of our future. We can see our shattered soul lying in pieces around us but don’t quite know how to put them back together again. It’s a desperate period of searching trying to remember who we are when no longer part of a coupled unit. It’s a love-hate reacquaintance with sleeping alone, cooking for one and solo vacations.
I remind myself that to be heartbroken is a privilege. That this tattered and crumbled heart is the hallmark of deeply loving another person and being deeply loved in return, one of life’s most exquisite gifts. That people come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime and to embrace the blessings they gave you while you had them. That holding on too tightly and forcing something to be what is no longer meant to be will only lead to a stagnation of the path we were meant to follow.
“A broken heart is a testimony. It is a salve. A healing agent. A broken heart is the signature of the willingness to look.” – Lisa Olivera
There is no roadmap for the space between, no matter how many times we’ve been here before. There is no manual for navigating the complicated intersection of Everything Is Numb and Everything Hurts. The only advice people will give you is “take it one day at a time, one step at a time’” but what they really mean is don’t stop moving. Even the tiniest forward momentum is progress because you are quite literally on the brink of being swallowed whole by the grips of sadness, despair and anguish.
No one talks about the heaviness that will settle on top of your chest refusing to leave or the pit in your stomach that makes a permanent home. Or how the pain, the emptiness, the aloneness will suck the air out of every room you are in.
No one talks about how the path gets darker before it gets lighter.
You convince yourself that love is the enemy, the root cause of all pain. The memories of wild, passionate, effortless love are fleeting and painful. Waves of grief pour over you relentlessly. The cycles of picking-yourself-up-off-the-floor-and-dusting-yourself off are endless…just when you think you’ve picked yourself up for the last time, the cycle starts again.
And then one day, when you least expect it, you wake up a little lighter. You realize there is no roadmap because it’s waiting to be written. You slowly start to form a vision of what’s waiting for you at the end of the tunnel, on the other side of the door, and you begin to dream a little bigger each day.
And suddenly, hope comes rushing back to you.
You realize the person staring back at you in the mirror is the love of your life now and you delight in the sweetness of reconnecting with yourself. You relish this period of rediscovery, reinvention and reshaping your identity. You reach for the open road of possibilities in front of you, remembering that being unattached means a different kind of freedom.
You reflect on where you are in life, how you got here, the choices you made or didn’t make, and you ponder the idea of doing everything entirely different going forward. You let hope grow bigger each day by asking yourself:
What would living authentically and without fear look like?
What if nothing could ever hurt me, how would I live differently?
What would unfettered living look like?
What if I removed all constraints of fear, pain, regret and worry, what would that emotional freedom feel like?
Where was I shrinking myself and how can I begin to take up space in those places?
What are my wildest dreams and longings?
What is my Before and After story?
How would I write my next chapter if the possibilities were unlimited?
“All you have to do is show up. Be late. Be scared. Be a mess. Be weird. Be confused. Just BE there. You’ll figure out the rest as you go.” – Nanea Hoffman
If we let it, the space between can be an introspective journey—an excavation and a renovation to prepare us for what’s coming next. It’s a safe space to examine our unresolved wounds, our triggers, our longings, our capacity to love and be loved. It’s a time when we can melt into the stillness and solitude because we know our healing is an inside job. We know that seeking happiness through external validation and distracting ourselves from the pain only prolongs the process. And we know in the core of our being, that if we let it, this moment in time will be our becoming.
There is both pain and beauty in closing doors and completing chapters. We can make space for the grieving of once was AND for the excitement of what’s in front of us. Heartbreak, loss and grief changes us, but it doesn’t have to harden us. It’s true that we will never be the same, that new undeniable scars have formed, but we can emerge out of the tunnel stronger, wiser and softer. We can accept the role of suffering in love because we know the power and magnificence of loving and being loved is profoundly greater.
Progress through the space between will be a fickle, vicious game of two-steps-forward-one-step-back. Be gentle with yourself, my friend, for this is where your transformation begins. This is where you put resilience and grit to the test and rise from the ashes more confident, more connected, more grounded. This is the moment when you reroute your heart back to yourself and begin to carry the water on your own. This is when you offer yourself and others compassion and forgiveness and release the weight of the baggage you’ve been carrying.
This is when you surrender to the magic and the promise of the unknown.
“Start over; my darling. Be brave enough to find the life you want and courageous enough to chase it. Then start over and love yourself the way you were always meant to.” – Madalyn Beck
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