Whew. I was blindsided. The relationship I’ve been in for the past nine months ended suddenly. Am I hurt, absolutely. This loss is felt. But truthfully, I get it. And because those nine months were some of the most loving, affirming, and emotionally safe days I’ve ever experienced in a relationship, he gets all the grace.
The bar has officially been set. As beautiful as it was I know that it can get even better. That gives me hope. Truth be told I’ll be single for a minute, because what I want now is very specific… and rare.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Very few people can compete with history.
That has absolutely nothing to do with you. By our age, folks have 10-, 15-year histories with people they once saw forever with. Those ties don’t just disappear and that doesn’t make you less worthy. It’s just… real.
2. Appreciate the good—even when it ends.
The good far outweighed the bad here. I lost nothing and gained more than I ever expected. I’ll always smile when I think about this relationship. It was beautiful. After my divorce, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel that kind of deep emotional connection again. Not that I wasn’t capable, I just didn’t know what version of me would show up. This was my first relationship post-divorce… and honestly, it was amazing. If I ever write a memoir, this chapter will be called 275 Days in Paradise.
3. Trust your gut, even early.
Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when it makes you feel a little crazy. Because by now, your intuition has proven itself enough times. There were small things I ignored and looking back they inform how we ended up here. In this case, just about everything looked and felt aligned for nine months—words matched actions. CONSISTENTLY. There was no clear sign the bottom would fall out… but it did. And I’m not bitter. I understand and have empathy for the human experience. I was treated with care, tenderness, and intentionality. I saw the best of him, and I know what that kind of love feels like now.
Sometimes we rush into love not because we’re reckless, but because grief is heavy and sitting in it feels unbearable. I’ve been there too. We all just want to feel something good again.
And honestly, this time around, I’m proud of how I handled it all. That’s a big personal win for me. I didn’t spiral. I didn’t let the ending define me. I let myself feel without needing to escape it. That’s emotional regulation in real time. I cried when I needed to, journaled when I didn’t have the words, prayed when it got heavy, and shifted when I needed air. Growth looks like feeling disappointment and still choosing grace. Growth looks like sitting with emotional discomfort without letting it harden you.
One of the most liberating things I’ve come to accept is that life moves in seasons with ebbs and flows, highs and lows. And it’s not always personal; sometimes it’s just life doing what life does. People come and go. Love shifts. Circumstances change. And it doesn’t mean the love wasn’t real or that the experience didn’t matter. It means you’re alive. You’re in motion. You’re evolving. And as painful as endings can be, they often usher in clarity, refinement, and the next version of you.
There’s something sacred about embracing impermanence. At some point, one way or another, every relationship ends. Whether by distance, disconnection, death, or decisions. That’s the reality. So while you have the moments, while you have the connection soak it up. Be present. Laugh loud. Make love passionately. Learn from it. And when the tide shifts, as it always does, may you honor what it was without clinging to what no longer exists.
And Then We Grow 
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