Hello dear readers,

It’s such a pleasure to have you back with me this week for Part 2 of the Heartbreak series. I hope that after reading last week’s post, you were able to take something meaningful from it and apply it to your own journey.

In Part 1, we talked about allowing ourselves to truly feel the pain of heartbreak. We explored what it means to give ourselves space to grieve — without trying to run away from those uncomfortable emotions. Because the truth is, when we give ourselves permission to feel, we create room for the deepest kind of healing.

This week, we’re going even deeper.

We’re stepping into the process of truly facing those emotions and confronting the reality of heartbreak. We’re diving into what I like to call the storm inside — that swirl of thoughts, feelings, memories, and questions that can feel overwhelming, yet necessary.

So stay with me for a few more minutes… and let’s get into it.

Heartbreak, especially in the beginning, feels like an emotional rollercoaster. Whether we realize it or not, there are actual stages of grief involved — and no, they don’t only apply when someone dies. Any kind of loss that leaves you emotionally shattered can trigger grief. One thing I’ve learned is that there’s no real way to skip these stages if you truly want to heal. You have to go through them. I’ve also realized that some people get stuck in a certain stage and never fully recover — but that’s a conversation for another blog post.

Facing heartbreak means facing the reality of grief. It really is a rollercoaster made up of denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance — and it’s important to note that these stages are not linear. They don’t happen in a neat, predictable order. Grief is a highly individualized journey where emotions fluctuate, overlap, disappear, and then reappear again. Some stages hit harder than others. Some feel like they last forever. Others pass quickly. It’s messy, unpredictable, and deeply personal.

For me, sadness is usually the first stop on my emotional rollercoaster. Then comes denial, followed by anger, bargaining (which is typically the fastest stage for me), and eventually acceptance. Looking back, I can admit that I used to rush through my emotions. I probably didn’t fully experience each stage, and there were definitely times when I bounced back and forth between them. Now that I understand the process — and what it looks like for me — I try to let it unfold naturally. I allow myself to feel everything without forcing it. And when I finally reach acceptance, I know I’ve learned what I needed to learn and can truly move forward, healed and whole.

Heartbreak comes with a lot of emotions. One of the biggest is simply missing the person—and that’s completely normal. You shared a bond, so it’s only natural that those feelings will show up.

Sometimes, though, it’s not just the person you miss. You might miss the version of yourself you were when you were with them. Maybe you felt happier, softer, more motivated. Some relationships bring out parts of us that feel really good—and when they end, it can feel like we lost that version of ourselves too.

Then there are the relationships you leave and realize you actually miss the person you were before it stormed into your life and tried to strip away the best parts of your character. The truth is, some people come into your life as a blessing, and others come as a reminder. Usually, the reminders are the ones who drained you and left you feeling depleted. Either way, going through a “missing” phase is very common—so let it run its course.

I’ve found myself romanticizing the past and forgetting the truth. That was definitely part of my denial stage. That’s when the “what if” thoughts and regret would creep in. But what I’ve learned is that staying in that space only keeps you stuck and delays your healing. It happened. It’s happening. And the more I allowed myself to move out of denial, the easier it became to navigate each stage of grief.

One of the biggest delays in my healing was waiting for closure. I was waiting for the other person to show integrity, to take accountability for their toxic behavior. That’s where a lot of my anger came from—I couldn’t understand how someone could be so selfish or so disconnected from the harm they caused. I thought I needed them to admit their wrongdoings, as if that would validate my pain and finally give me peace.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What I’ve come to understand is that closure doesn’t always come from another person. Sometimes, it has to come from you. The more I accepted that and adjusted my mindset, the less I allowed myself to sit in anger longer than necessary. I’ll be even more transparent, what also brought me comfort in not gaining any form of closure from a person is this reality: what we sow, we reap. So, remember, in time, what was done to you will become a lesson that person will have to face on their own.

Before I finish, I want to say this: find your safe space. Yes, you’ll go through the motions, but having someone, or somewhere you can safely express those emotions is crucial to your recovery.

Venting to the wrong people was one of my biggest mistakes, so choose wisely. What’s helped me most is journaling, exercising, sharing my experience, prayer, and therapy. There will be moments when you feel overwhelmed, but don’t suppress what you’re feeling. Name the emotion. That alone can reduce its power. Call it out in a safe space. Let it out. Because if you keep it all inside—at least in my experience—it slowly erodes you from within.

The storm you feel inside during heartbreak is common—and I’d even say it’s healthy. Healing is painful, messy, and deeply personal—but facing it is how we heal. If anything, it shakes us to our core, but it also teaches us who we truly are. So, let yourself feel the pain, navigate the storm inside, and honor every stage of grief—because in those moments of raw honesty, real healing happens. Closure doesn’t always come from others; it comes from within. And when you finally embrace that truth, you don’t just move on—you rise stronger, wiser, and more whole than before.

With love, Keemah G.