Hello dear readers,

It’s nice to see you back, and I hope you’re doing well wherever you’re reading from around the world. As we step into what many people call the month of love, some will be celebrating romance with their significant other. But for many others, this time can quietly highlight endings, loss, and the goodbyes that never quite had closure. For those people, heartbreak can feel louder than ever.

A lot of us struggle with our emotions by trying to run from them, hoping that avoiding the pain will somehow make it disappear. I’ve learned, though, that healing doesn’t work that way. You can’t avoid the pain, and you don’t have to pretend to be the strongest person in the room. Sometimes, the only way forward is to sit with the pain, let yourself feel all of it, and move through every emotion until you slowly arrive at a place of peace. 

From my own past mistakes, I’ve realized that sometimes we need to normalize the pain instead of rushing past it. Giving yourself permission to feel is often what leads to the deepest and most honest healing.

In this upcoming four-part blog series, I’ll be talking about what it means to feel the pain and allow yourself to grieve. I’ll also explore how to process the emotions that come with heartbreak, how that process helps you rebuild yourself, and how, in time, it can lead you toward peace and new beginnings.

Let’s get into it.

What I’ve learned is that heartache is not a weakness; it’s proof of connection and love. Oftentimes, especially in certain communities like my own (Black), heartbreak is perceived as a weakness. When it’s expressed, it’s often followed by phrases like “be strong” or “you got this.” While those words may be comforting, they can leave people avoiding their feelings and emotions so deeply that they never fully recover. 

I believe that allowing a person to feel what they’re feeling, and validating those emotions before telling them to put on their cape and be a superhero, can do so much more for their recovery than encouraging avoidance ever could.

Avoiding the emotional pain that comes with heartbreak only delays healing. What I’ve come to realize is that those delays often show up as distractions, rebounds, and numbing.

Distractions were my biggest delay through heartbreak. Instead of sitting in the pain when I needed to, I used clubbing, being there for everyone else instead of prioritizing myself, and working like a modern-day slave. 

I wasn’t the rebound kind of woman, but I’ve learned that rebounds are also an escape—and all they lead to is another relationship that repeats the same patterns as the last one, because the healing work was never completed.

Numbing is another way we delay the process and completely avoid the pain, and I’m sure many people can relate to this. I know I had moments when I chain-smoked or consumed a little too much alcohol over time while my heart was completely broken. I would never recommend this now, but it’s important for me to speak the truth.

At certain points in my life, I never gave myself the chance to grieve. I just moved on after heartbreaks, believing that being strong meant avoiding the emotional pain I was feeling. Now, I give myself permission to unapologetically grieve what I’ve lost—whether that’s a person, a relationship, or future desires. I’m slowly learning to exhale and give myself the space to live my life as it unfolds, while keeping my faith and trusting that things will eventually work in God’s favor.

Crying, anger, confusion, and longing are all valid emotions, and it’s perfectly okay to feel them instead of running away. The more we try to silence what we’re feeling, the louder it becomes. Therefore, I’m doing my best to master my emotions by not avoiding them—not pressuring myself to stop feeling, but instead connecting with them and working through them. In time, I know I’ll overcome what I’m going through.

There is no timeline to healing and that’s what I remind myself of, and want others to know. Oftentimes, we compare ourselves to others, and that slows our process. Instead of focusing inward, we become more concerned with running a race and crossing a finish line. But healing doesn’t come from comparison—it starts within.

Now, I sit with pain and discomfort without judging myself. Judgment is the first way we begin to avoid emotional pain, because it’s easier to form quick conclusions than to sit with the truth. I also allow myself to feel the pain with the intention of not becoming the pain. So I acknowledge when I’m angry, without becoming an angry person. And I try to approach every emotion I feel during heartbreak with that same level of awareness.

So maybe the work isn’t to get over pain as fast as possible. Maybe it’s to get with it. To let it sit at the table instead of shoving it out the door with a forced smile and a productivity hack. Pain doesn’t mean you’re broken or behind—it usually means something mattered, something shifted, something is asking to be felt before it can be released.

Normalizing pain doesn’t make life heavier; it actually makes it more honest. When we stop treating discomfort like a personal failure, we give ourselves room to breathe, to learn, to heal at our own pace. No stopwatch. No gold stars for pretending we’re fine.

So the next time something hurts—emotionally, mentally, even quietly—try not to rush past it. Stay curious. Stay kind to yourself. Pain passes more gently when it’s allowed to exist. And chances are, if you’re feeling it, you’re not alone—you’re just having a human experience.

With love, Keemah G.