I feel a personal post was a good way to get started because speaking about this subject has been long overdue. I have always been an open book. And for awhile, I have kept everything to myself. Truth is, going through a heartbreak broke not only my heart, but me entirely. It was visible, it not a secret, but also not often spoken about. Losing someone you love is like having the ground beneath you suddenly give way. One moment, everything feels safe and familiar. Feels like heaven. And the next, you’re free-falling into a void of pain, confusion, and unbearable emptiness. Heart break—at its finest. I have experienced some heartbreak in a form or another before. Absolutely. We all do. I have had several relationships that ended and it was not easy, it is never easy. But I believe you really experience that extreme of pain only once in a lifetime. Mostly because it is so traumatizing that you make sure you never go through that again. Heartbreaks... whether through death, separation, or the slow breaking of a bond—leaves scars that time alone cannot fully erase.
The pain of losing someone is not just emotional; it’s physical. It’s the lump in your throat when you hear your favorite song. It’s the aching in your chest when you reach for them in the middle of the night, only to be met with silence because they are not there. It’s the way the world keeps moving, oblivious to your grief, while you struggle to take the next breath. As a wedding photographer, losing someone I loved while witnessing and photographing love, was... brutal. I still cannot comprehend how I could do it and how I did it.. I can’t say how many weddings I have cried silently, with blurry eyes due to tears, while listening to the vows.
You find yourself drowning in memories—some beautiful, some painful, all reminders of what was and what can never be again. And you question...Why not. The urge to retreat into the safety of isolation was overwhelming. And in a way, that is what I did, at least as much as I possibly could because I realized life goes on. What I know is that I lost sight of who I was. I became my past, attached to something that didn’t exist anymore, not able to live in the present or even look forward to the future. But pain, as consuming as it is, does not have to define you. Heartbreak is not just an ending; it is also a beginning. Baby steps. Really long slow baby steps. I can’t believe how long it took to be able to walk again. To feel whole again. Pieces were put together, with obvious scars, but I am whole again.
Healing is not a straight path. Some days, you will feel okay, almost normal. Other days, the weight of loss will pull you down so forcefully that it feels impossible to rise. But you do it. Slowly, painfully, and with hesitation, you learn to breathe again. You learn to step forward, carrying the love you once knew as a reminder that you are capable of deep feeling, of giving, of being.
You do not forget them. You do not erase the past. But you make room for life again. You allow laughter to return, not as a betrayal of your pain, but as proof that you survived it. You open your heart, even when fear tells you not to, because love—despite its risks—is always worth it. It was truly a long journey. And people advised me - healing takes time. And I would ask - How long? Little I knew that would take years. So many times I wished I would just close my eyes and wake up at a later time and it is over. Well, it doesn’t happen that way. But I took those baby steps.
The ache might still there, but so is the will to keep going. And that is enough. That is strength. That is resilience. And I was finally able to walk not on the same shoes I once walked, but on new shoes, a new better person. I learned to use that pain for a healthier mindset, mentally and physically. I believe I am a calmer, more logical person. Do I find myself happy? I don't know if I can say I am happy. But I am happier. It is still hard for me to make sense of losing someone you believed was your soulmate. But I understand now that not everything in life makes sense.
Today, I feel I still owe an apology to the people that I have let down. To the ones I pretended I was okay when I was not okay. And most importantly, I owe myself an apology - for pretending, for being hard on myself, for not doing the best and letting that define me. As “the one that let people down” I ask forgiveness. I am still working on that part, but this is why I am here now. I am ready. That is me, rising again. Because life is too short. Be you, be the best version of yourself, live your best life.
With love, M.
Comments