The Therapy Gods Are Undefeated | Season Two: Episode 5
Disclaimer: I speak openly about my experience dealing with heartbreak, grief, and loss in a romantic relationship context. My intention is to share reflection and lived experience that may be helpful to others in similar places. I protect privacy by using [Redacted] and speak only to my own story.
As I wrote in the previous blog, there was something sweet and childlike about the first moment I truly felt I was leading myself and was safe. After everything it took to get there, that sense of safety didn’t arrive as calm or relief, but it came as a rush, a flood of feeling I could sense in my body before I could find words for it.
I expected that feeling to fade, because anxiety usually finds its way back to the front seat. But it hasn’t. I still feel safe, loved, and worthy of a world I’m unsure how to get to, but know is waiting for me.
So what’s next?
For me, moving forward looks like working backward. It means sharing these stories carefully and honestly. The next place my writing wants to go is toward my patterns with partners. How I ended up at a fork in the road that required this much healing. I can see the entire playing field now.
I’m not trying to be cryptic. I’m trying to be responsible. I’m learning how to tell my story in a way that does good, not words thrown onto a page just to temporarily close the hole in my chest.
I’ve said this throughout this series, and in my writing about relationships in general: I know it’s me. The things that once tore me apart, and some that still do, were never actually about the people who left or the people I left.
That’s why this perspective matters so much:
This work is about you.
This pain is about you.
Healing will only happen if you do it.
There are no shortcuts here. If you’re looking for drama or hot gossip, this isn’t that. This is simply me learning to love myself and swallowing the uncomfortable truth that I often made myself smaller so others could feel bigger.
I have to be honest; none of this writing works without it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely “over” this experience. I recently paused work on a fictional project because I couldn’t figure out how to portray relationships without turning them into love letters or self-erasure.
I’ve deleted tens of thousands of words trying to get it right. Not because the story isn’t there, but because I kept protecting everyone else’s character at the expense of my own.
Still, my gut tells me I’m onto something useful. Something that might help someone else recognize themselves a little sooner than I did.
Right now, I’m standing at a crossroads: how to tell the truth without betraying myself, and without placing people who don’t deserve it on pedestals they never earned.
Here’s my working theory. When I date again, more light will shine backward. Contrast will clarify what was real, what was familiar, and what I projected. That information will matter.
So, yes, I’ll keep dating. And if another breakup comes, I’ll pay attention to whether it feels the same, different, or not at all. That data will tell me whether I’m learning or repeating.
Wish me luck.
More research ahead for Season Three.
Thank you for reading and for staying with me as I continue learning how to love myself (and others) better.
With hugs and endless gratitude,
That Friend Katie