“In this universe, we are given two gifts: the ability to love, and the ability to ask questions. Which are, at the same time, the fires that warm us and the fires that scorch us.” - Mary Oliver 



Heartbreak is my least favorite emotion because it is the most complex. One moment, you are bent over crying in the middle of a forest after forcing yourself to get some fresh air; the next, you are singing at the top of your lungs to Beyonce in the car and reminding yourself that nothing is going to break you. But heartbreak does break you, at least for a while. 

My fiancé and I are separating. I wanted it all with him…partnership, adventure, family. The reality sinks in occasionally and I don’t want to get out of bed. There are no other details worth sharing except that I have always loved him, even when he didn’t love himself. I know he loved me, even when I didn't love myself. We tried to rebuild trust, respect, and optimism for the future. But sometimes even professionals can’t help you move forward, and the only thing you can do is accept that the healing must happen alone, regardless of how much you want to do it together.

To say I am devastated is an understatement. I moved to another state to be with him because you take wild risks when you're in love. I left much of my life behind so that we could continue building a new one together. It’s hard not to harbor some resentment when you feel that your individual sacrifices weren't fully appreciated, but I made those choices. I struggle with abandoning myself in relationships. I often prioritize my partner’s needs over my own and then resent my partner because I’m emotionally caretaking. In the end, doesn’t that say more about me? Instead of advocating for myself, I let things happen. I do this with most people in my life. I repress my own emotional needs so that I have the bandwidth for everyone else’s. I don’t like being a burden, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think I really trust anyone to stay. I grieve alone. I cry alone. I think dark thoughts alone. Writing, singing, and praying in nature are my outlets. These are the things I’m working on with my therapist, and it’s been helpful to understand how much of this behavior was learned early in life. There is some gender-related conditioning there, too, so this is simultaneously a nod to those of you who can relate and are also trying to unpack it. 

Today, I found a wolf spider in my bedroom trash can. Out of fear, I dumped it into the toilet, where I tried to flush it. But the spider kept swimming. I started to panic as I realized I was causing it to suffer, so I grabbed a glass and scooped it out of the spinning water. I poured it outside and I watched it run toward the trees. It's in moments like these when I remember how important it is to not make decisions in fear. You can hurt others when you’re afraid. Sometimes, it’s the fear of losing them that causes you to keep them in the wings. Sometimes, it’s the fear of losing yourself that causes you to be callous or impulsive. Sometimes, it’s the fear of being rejected that causes you to withhold intimacy. I’ve seen these all played out by others or myself at different points in life. I really don’t believe in duality. Most people are both good and bad. Maybe that’s why heartbreak hurts so much. You remember why you love that person, and at the same time, why you can’t stay. Timing is everything. 

While I'm lost right now, I know I need to keep working on myself. I am dedicated to being kind even when I’m in pain. I am dedicated to my own mental health. I am dedicated to doing things that bring me joy and don’t hurt others. I am dedicated to learning how to best care for my sweet, sensitive pup. I am dedicated to taking care of myself– financially, emotionally, and physically– so that when I choose to commit again, it’s not for lack of self love or independence. I am dedicated to saying yes and no when I really mean them. I am dedicated to exercising empathy with boundaries so I don’t make excuses for actions. I am dedicated to not shaming others. I am dedicated to my own accountability without added shame. I am dedicated to my continued growth, as both a human and an artist. 

I have a recording session booked for October, as well as a show with my friend Bethany Joy and a workshop with Project D.R.E.W. I'm writing poetry often. I have two more semesters on deck for my MPA and classes start in a week. I’m currently working part-time at the best folk venue in Ann Arbor. I start a new full-time job in two weeks.  

I am going to be okay. We are both going to be okay. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we are strongest when we have no other choice. If you’re going through it right now, please know that I understand it takes incredible strength just to survive some days. This world can be cruel. And in a society that constantly promotes love as a conditional commodity, the most punk rock thing you can do is say fuck that. Love matters, even when partnership fails. Don’t forget to love yourself as fiercely as you love others.