Breakups hurt. No matter who initiated the ending, the grief can feel like a tidal wave; completely unrelenting, confusing, and deeply personal. Many articles tell us to forget the person, label them emotionally unavailable, or state that the other person is not worth your time for how they treated you, so just move on and focus on yourself. While there can be truth in those messages, they often miss something important: breakups are rarely just about one person’s flaws or failures. Often, they are about two people whose unconscious wounds collided, and neither knew it was happening much less how to stop it.
What if instead of blaming our ex, or ourselves, we saw breakups for what they often are: an uncovering of long-held attachment wounds from the past, now exposed and asking to be healed?
Moving Past Simplistic Narratives
Modern breakup culture often leans into an oversimplified framework: one person is the villain, the other is the victim. Maybe he ghosted. Maybe she had commitment issues. Maybe someone was too needy, too distant, too intense, or too cold.
There are, of course, real patterns of emotional unavailability, unhealthy behavior, and sometimes even cruelty. These need to be named and taken seriously. But for many relationships, especially the ones that almost worked, the truth is more nuanced. Underneath the surface of the fight, the distance, or the decision to walk away, deeper unconscious patterns are often at play.
The Role of Attachment Wounds in Modern Relationships
To understand what happened, we have to look at where we came from. Attachment wounds are injuries to our sense of safety, love, and connection which are often formed in childhood. They influence how we bond as adults, including how much we trust, how close we get, and how we protect ourselves when things feel uncertain.
Harville Hendrix and his wife Helen Hunt, through their work on Imago therapy, found that we are drawn to partners who unconsciously reflect the emotional patterns of our early caregivers. Not because we want to suffer, but because we are trying to complete something; specifically to heal something old through someone new who represents a familiar past.
So when conflicts arise, it may not just be your partner’s actions, or words that hurt, it is also what those actions and words echo in your history. If things fall apart, it is often not due to lack of care or love, but due to the sheer weight of unconscious wounds acting on both sides.
Why It is Not About Blame, But About Responsibility
When a relationship ends, our first instinct might be to figure out whose fault it was. It is sometimes helpful to understand what happened, but a blaming framework rarely helps us fully heal.
In reality, both people may have been doing the best they could with the tools they had. That does not erase the pain or mean the breakup was not necessary. In fact, sometimes the most loving decision is to part ways. Therefore, as we move away from blame, a more healing question might be: What was being activated in me, and what is mine to heal? This is not about chasing reconciliation or trying to win someone back. This is not the time for that. It is about becoming more whole, and about evolving from unconscious reaction to conscious connection.
Healing begins when we take responsibility and actively care for our inner landscape. Instead of shaming, or getting stuck in guilt, just taking ownership of what is ours and working with it.
Giving Space: The Loving Choice (Even if it Hurts)
One of the hardest parts after a breakup is learning how to let go. Not in the sense of forgetting or erasing, but in the sense of giving space, both to ourselves and to the person we cared for and loved.
This space is sacred. When you give your ex space it is not the same as giving up. You are respecting the healing timeline for both of you. Sometimes, the most loving thing we can do is to stop trying to control, fix, or understand everything, and instead practice what is known as loving detachment.
Loving detachment is the art of holding care for someone while no longer trying to manage or influence their path. It is a quiet trust that, even if your stories have parted for now, or even if it is forever, each of you is on your own necessary journey. It does not mean you have closed your heart completely, or that you are over it yet either, it means you have stopped trying to force an outcome, and started trusting that what is meant for you will return and what does not return will create space for what is truly meant for you.
“You are not ready for each other right now” can be one of the gentlest, truest things you can admit. It is not a hidden hope or a disguised strategy to reunite, it is a way of stepping into the present moment with clarity and grace. It acknowledges that readiness is not just about desire, it is about capacity, timing, and emotional maturity. And it may change, or it may not, but either way, your job now is to gently step back and tend to your own side of the healing.
Letting go, in this light, is not rejection or abandonment, instead, it is a deep act of self-respect and quiet love.
A Note on Boundaries: What This Is Not
We should be clear: this is not an invitation to stay emotionally entangled with someone who cannot emotionally meet you, or to keep analyzing a relationship that has already ended. It is also not about minimizing harm, or bypassing red flags in the name of compassion.
This perspective is here to offer relief, a departure from confusion and to help you put down blame, and not carry someone else’s emotional weight. You can hold a lens of compassion and still choose to move forward. In fact, that is the only healthy way forward.
Everyone Has a Story: Even the One Who Left
It is easy to vilify the person who ends the relationship, especially when the ending feels abrupt or unclear. But the truth is, many people leave not out of malice, but out of fear, confusion, or shutdown. Often, they are reacting from their own unhealed trauma, even if they do not realize it.
That does not make it okay, and it certainly does not mean you should wait around or accept poor treatment, but it does invite a more compassionate lens. Because, in fact, they, too, have wounds. They, too, are navigating life with the tools they have and with the ones they do not have.
This does not excuse their behavior, and it does not mean you make their pain your responsibility and it does not mean you should try to stay connected, or keep the door open. However, recognizing that the person who hurt you might also have a struggle of their own they are going through does not make you weak, it makes you wise. It opens a space for grief to soften into understanding, even if only quietly, internally.
Sometimes the person who left was doing so not because they did not care, but because they could not stay, perhaps because intimacy triggered fear, or because communication felt overwhelming, or because parts of themselves are still stuck in survival mode. Maybe it was a little bit of all of the above, and more. You do not have to fix that. In fact, you cannot fix it, they are not ready and you cannot push them. And you do not have to wait for them to realize it, it is not your journey to keep track of, it is theirs and only they can take the next step. Seeing this clearly can help loosen the grip of resentment and give you permission to stop internalizing their actions as a reflection of your worth.
Their pain is not yours to hold, but understanding it can help you put yours down.
It might help you to say, “This hurt me deeply and I can see they were struggling too.” These two things can be true at the same time which makes room for duality, dignity, and truth.
Holding this dual awareness of their humanity and your own boundaries is one of the most powerful forms of emotional maturity. It allows you to honour the love that once was, even while choosing to protect your internal world.
Letting Go Without Justification or Hope for Reunion
Letting go is often confused with giving up, or with saying the relationship did not matter. But a real letting go is neither denial nor dismissal, it is a conscious choice to stop holding onto a version of the story that keeps you stuck.
Sometimes we stay emotionally entangled not because we truly believe it will work again, but because we have not given ourselves permission to close the chapter without an explanation that helps it all make sense. In addition, perhaps we have the fantasy that one day they will come back changed and ready, but here is the truth: this type of growth is a slow process that takes time, so even if they later become ready and changed, you will be ready and changed as well; and if you have gone through a true deep healing process for yourself, you will likely arrive at a point where you are no longer interested in them. You have to allow that process to happen, first, though, and it will likely take a long period of time.
Also, full closure is not required to begin healing. You do not need to understand every reason why they left or why they could not show up in the way you needed. You do not need to justify walking away by labeling them a villain, and you do not need to secretly hope they will return to validate your worth.
Letting go without hope for reunion means:
- Choosing to focus your energy inward, even when your thoughts keep drifting back to them. Gently catch yourself when you start imagining “what if” scenarios, and instead turn toward what is happening in you, right now. What needs soothing? What is your body quietly holding that wants to be witnessed, not just thought about, but felt in the space beneath words?
- Accepting that their journey is separate from yours, and it may never intersect again. You can care for someone from afar and still release the expectation of reconnection. Their path is no longer your business, and that is not cold, it is self-preserving.
- Resisting the urge to chase clarity or meaning from them, and making your own peace instead. You may never get the closure conversation. They may never apologize or see what you see. That does not make your experience any less real, and it does not make your healing incomplete.
- Grounding yourself in the present, not the potential. Were they growing? Maybe. Could they evolve? Possibly. But healing is not about staying frozen in their potential. It is about returning to your life, your values, your nervous system, and your needs.
Letting go in this way is not cold or unloving. It is incredibly brave because it asks you to surrender control, not as defeat, but as freedom. And in that freedom, something extraordinary begins to unfold: you start to come home to yourself.
What Healing Actually Looks Like
True healing does not mean quickly moving on, dating someone new, or improving your physical appearance to prove a point. It is a deeper, slower, and much more intimate process with yourself.
Healing often looks like:
- Sitting with your grief instead of bypassing it. Let yourself cry without rushing to stop. Journal every messy, angry, confused thought. Take walks without music so you can actually feel your emotions. Give yourself permission to have moments of not being okay without making it mean something is wrong with you. Care about your hurts, grief and all of your feelings with gentle compassion, they need this type of kindness right now.
- Reflecting on your relationship patterns with honesty. Ask yourself with curiosity and compassion: What triggered me most in this relationship? What patterns from my past showed up again? What did I fear losing most, and what does that fear remind me of? Again, reflect without self-blame. You might write these out or speak them into a voice note just for you.
- Seeking therapy, support, or community when you need it. This might mean working with a trauma-informed therapist, joining a support group for breakups or attachment healing, or confiding in a trusted friend who can hold space for you without rushing you to “move on.” Healing in connection is just as important as healing in solitude, so just remember to give yourself time to heal.
- Learning how your nervous system responds to intimacy, fear, and conflict and then giving it tools to feel safe again. Start noticing your body’s responses. Do you shut down? Panic? Freeze? These are not flaws, they are survival responses. More specifically, they are your body’s way of communicating, part of what Focusing teaches us to listen to. While we try to be present, we want to have tools because sometimes we do get a bit more activated than is helpful. If you become overwhelmed, try:
* Grounding exercises (connect to the present moment by breathing, naming five things you see,
or naming four things you feel)
* Somatic practices (gentle movement, stretching, shaking, breathwork to feel mind-body
connection, attending to your bodily Felt Sense)
* Safe touch (self-hug, hand over heart, hugging a pillow)
* Meditation, or trauma-informed yoga can help you explore resources on nervous system
regulation and attachment styles.
- Rebuilding a sense of worth that is not dependent on whether someone stays or goes. Notice your inherent goodness outside of any relationship. Reconnect with what brings you joy whether that is art, nature, music, movement, or learning. Affirm your value: “I am lovable, even when I am alone.” “My needs matter.” “I am worthy of love that meets me fully.” Create a self-worth anchor list that includes memories, affirmations, or kind words you have received and return to it often.
Love is Still Possible, But Start With Yourself
If you are heartbroken right now, it is important to know that this pain is real. Brain scans show romantic heartbreak lights up the same brain regions as physical pain. Mild pain relievers like acetaminophen can even reduce emotional distress after rejection. This is not “all in your head,” your nervous system is literally in mourning. So please take this seriously and care for yourself like you would if you were physically injured. Rest. Hydrate. Reach out. Breathe. You do not have to bounce back overnight.
In addition, this journey, painful as it is, can be a rare opportunity to understand yourself more deeply, to meet the parts of you that long for love, safety, and connection and to offer them compassion instead of judgment. Do your best to not demonize your past, or erase your ex, instead, try to use this understanding as a mirror not a weapon.
And most importantly, know this: You are not broken. You are becoming more conscious. That is the real healing. And it is the kind that will change not only your next relationship, but your entire life.
So if you are here, reading this with a heavy heart, pause for a moment and place your hand over your heart. Breathe. You are doing the hardest work there is, which is learning how to stay with yourself through one of the deepest aches you will ever experience.
Keep going. The version of you that emerges from this will be more whole, more conscious, and ready for love that lasts more than ever before. In the meantime, be kind and gentle to yourself and allow time for your healing.
Additional Focusing-Based Practices
(if you ever get too overwhelmed, please discontinue the exercises and return to the grounding ideas stated within the article)
Extra practice 1:
Towards the end of the article where it says "So if you are here, reading this with a heavy heart, pause for a moment and place your hand over your heart. Breathe…" here is an additional piece you could add:
While your hand rests there, ask yourself: “What’s the whole of this feeling?” and wait for your body to respond. Not in words, but in sensations. Maybe a tightness, a buzzing, a stuckness, or even a warm sense of release. Stay with it. Let it know you are listening. This is Focusing, giving the body space to speak its truth before the mind rushes to solve it. There does not need to be a resolution, we are simply allowing the body to feel the truth of its experience in real time. This in itself is part of the healing process.
Extra practice 2:
In association with the “What Healing Actually Looks Like” Section, here is a "Sitting with your grief" exercise:
Sit quietly with one emotional knot or question like “Why does this hurt so much?” or “What am I most afraid of losing?” and really pause with that, checking in your body and noticing not just your thoughts but where in your body the response seems to live. Is there a tightening in your chest? A heaviness in your gut? A weight on your whole body? Gently stay with that bodily sense and wait. Gendlin called this the Felt Sense: the body's way of knowing something before the mind can explain it. You do not need to fix it, just allow space for it, let it know you see it is there and it is having a hard time. Care that it is having a hard time, let it know you are here to care and listen. Maybe ask what it wants to be known from within. Maybe it wants to describe the anguish it is under, or the confusion it feels. Listen without judgement and let it know you care and you are sorry it is experiencing such a difficult thing.
Extra practice 3:
From the section "Why It is Not About Blame, But About Responsibility" let's go deeper into the question "What Was Being Activated in Me?”
A Focusing Pause
Find a quiet space. Close your eyes and ask gently, “What is here in me right now that needs my attention?”
Then notice: What comes up in your body? A sensation, an image, a tightness, or a vague something? Don’t rush to define it. Gendlin called this the Felt Sense. Just sit with it, like you would sit beside a friend who needs your quiet presence.
After a minute or two, you might ask, “What does this need from me right now?” - and see what arises.
This simple pause can become a powerful daily practice in learning how to stay with your inner world, especially during heartbreak.
References
Core Theoretical Influences
• Gendlin, Eugene T. (1981). Focusing. Bantam Books.
Introduced the concept of the "felt sense"—a bodily awareness of a situation that is deeper than emotion or thought alone. His work underpins the article’s emphasis on inner sensing, embodied grief, and self-directed healing.
• Hendrix, Harville & Hunt, Helen LaKelly. (2007). Getting the Love You Want: A Guide for Couples. St. Martin’s Press.
Imago Therapy framework: how we unconsciously choose partners who mirror early attachment dynamics to work through unresolved childhood wounds.
• Bowlby, John. (1988). A Secure Base: Parent-Child Attachment and Healthy Human Development. Basic Books.
Foundation of Attachment Theory, explaining how early bonding patterns affect adult relationships.
• Levine, Peter. (1997). Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma. North Atlantic Books.
Somatic Experiencing and nervous system regulation—directly supports the discussion on how our bodies carry trauma responses into relationships and healing.
• Eisenberger, Naomi I., & Lieberman, Matthew D. (2003). “Does rejection hurt? An fMRI study of social exclusion.” Science, 302(5643), 290–292.
Neuroscientific study showing that social pain activates the same brain regions as physical pain—referenced in the final section on heartbreak as physiological experience.
