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.
When Trust is Broken: Holding Space for Betrayal
Not all breakups are the same. Sometimes, what lingers most is not only grief, but betrayal, the shattering of trust. Betrayal cuts a bit differently than distance or incompatibility; it shakes our nervous system at its foundation, because it challenges our basic sense of safety and truth.
If betrayal is part of your story, know that your reactions of shock, anger, disbelief, even the looping thoughts of “How could they?” are not overreactions. Instead, they are the body’s way of protecting itself after trust has been broken.
In Focusing terms, betrayal often carries a sharp Felt Sense: a jolt in the gut, a collapse in the chest, or a buzzing that won’t quiet down. Instead of rushing to make sense of it, pause and gently ask:
Where do I feel the impact of this betrayal in my body?
What does this place need from me right now?
Sometimes the answer is simple: acknowledgment. Sometimes it asks for boundaries. Sometimes it just needs you to say: “I see how much this hurts, and I am here with you.”
Holding space for your experience of betrayal is not about excusing what happened or minimizing the harm, it is about tending to the rupture inside yourself with honesty and compassion. Trust can be rebuilt over time, but first it has to be rebuilt within and this can only be done by honoring what you feel, caring for your body’s response, and remembering that someone else’s choice says more about their own challenges than it does about you.
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.
Extra Practice 1: Hand on Heart - Finding the Whole of It
(Tuning into the body’s first response)
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…" you could take it a step further:
While your hand rests there, gently ask: “What’s the whole of this feeling?”
Wait. Your body may not answer in words, but in sensations: tightness, buzzing, heaviness, shakiness, or even a small easing.
Stay with it. Let it know you are listening. Imagine you are keeping this feeling company, without trying to fix it.
If a word, phrase, or image begins to arise that seems to “fit” the feeling (like “a heavy stone,” “a storm cloud,” or “something stuck”), quietly acknowledge it. This “handle” gives form to what was previously vague.
This is the essence of Focusing: giving the body space to speak its truth before the mind rushes to solve it. There is no pressure to resolve anything, we are simply allowing the body to feel the truth of its experience in real time, and maybe finding a word or image that matches. This in itself is part of the healing process.
Extra Practice 2: Sitting with Grief - Letting the Felt Sense Form
(Staying with one hurt part without forcing a solution)
From the section on What Healing Actually Looks Like, try this practice when grief feels strong:
With kindness, curiosity and compassion, choose one question, like:
“Why does this hurt so much?”
“What am I most afraid of losing?”
Instead of answering mentally, really pause and notice: Where do I feel this in my body? Check in your body and notice 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 place, allowing the Felt Sense to form. This might feel like a blurry knot, a weight, or something that does not yet have clear words.
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. You can say inwardly: “Yes, I know you’re there. I see how hard this is for you.”
If it feels right, maybe ask softly: “What do you want me to know?” and wait. 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. A word, phrase, or image may surface, accept whatever comes.. “an empty chair,” “a broken thread,” “a fog that won’t lift.”
Try each one that comes to you while gently checking if they match what you feel inside. If not, wait until the body says “yes, that is it.”
Here you are not trying to “solve grief,” but giving it space to express itself. Finding a symbol, or phrase that fits can bring relief and clarity.
Extra Practice 3: The Focusing Pause - Listening for What Wants Attention
(Opening space for new steps to emerge)
From the section "Why It is Not About Blame, But About Responsibility" let us go deeper into the question "What Was Being Activated in Me?”
Find a quiet spot. Close your eyes.
Ask gently: “What is here in me right now that needs my attention?”
Wait for your body’s subtle response, maybe an image, a heaviness, a vague unsettledness, or even a wordless sense. This is the Felt Sense beginning to form.
Sit with it as you would a friend who needs your quiet presence.
After some time, you may ask: “What does this part need from me right now?” and listen to see what arises.
If a word, color, or picture comes, welcome it. Let the body confirm whether it feels right. Sometimes the shift comes just from finding the right fit.
This pause can become a powerful daily practice in learning how to stay with your inner world, especially during heartbreak. Over time, it teaches you how to stay present with what arises inside you.
Extra Practice 4: Finding the Right Words or Images - Giving Shape to the Felt Sense
(Symbolizing what was wordless)
Sometimes, a bodily sense is there but it feels blurry, like “something” you cannot quite name. This practice helps you let the body find its own words, images, or even gestures.
Begin with a pause. Notice what is present in you right now. Maybe an unease, a weight, or a vague something.
Stay with it gently. Then ask: “What word, phrase, picture, or gesture would fit this best?”
Let possibilities come and go: “Is it like a knot? a storm? a sinking feeling?”
Check each one against the body: does this word/image feel right? The body often gives a small “yes” or “no.”
When you find the one that fits, you may notice a slight easing or shift.
This practice is not about labeling feelings in a clinical way, but about finding the expression that resonates most deeply with your lived experience. Once the felt sense has words or images, it becomes easier to carry forward into healing.
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.
