As a psychotherapist for over 20 years, I have witnessed a lot of heartbreak.
I have had the unique experience of going “behind the scenes” and observing how we experience pain, joy, and every emotion in between.
But somehow, with all of my so-called therapist “expertise”, I was stuck when it came to healing my own broken heart. And, as a card-carrying member of the tribe of humanity, I have been no stranger to the raw, gut wrenching feelings of heartbreak. I have been through a divorce, several painful cancer deaths, and many once hopeful, but currently shattered relationships. I have been guilty of writing off any possibility of finding love, after feeling the tenderness of a broken heart.
When my heart is broken, I close. I resist. I allow fear to take hold and shrink me down into a small, dimmed-down version of myself. I often find myself clinging to fear, instead of the embrace of love and all of her miraculous healing. I taste a heartbroken bitterness so strong that it dilutes the taste of joy in my life.
At one point in my life, I felt so withered from heartbreak and loss that I started to wonder if there would ever be space for my light again. I had become so hungry for love that I refused to take it in anymore. I was working against my own best interest and keeping love away. I was a love anorexic. Read more of my article published on Elephant Journal here.