Listening Through Heartbreak
Heartbreak happens. Heartbreak hurts. Eventually, heartbreak disappears.
But I never actually experienced my own heartbreak.
I had a boyfriend when I was sixteen. After high school graduation, we simply drifted apart without ever talking about breaking up. I left home for college, and from then on, we had no communication.
“Why didn’t I experience heartbreak?” I sometimes asked myself.
Maybe it was because we never had the kind of relationships young couples often have today. There were no all-day digital updates, no private dates—my parents were very strict—and no grand romantic moments. We simply saw each other in school and exchanged small conversations.
But God had other plans. Two years later, we found our way back to each other. Seven years after that, we got married.
Reading the Headlines
As the years passed, my grown-up children handled their own relationships. Like many young adults, they probably found it easier to share their joys and struggles with friends rather than with their parents.
By then, I no longer knew every chapter of their love stories. I only knew the headlines:
- “She has a boyfriend.”
- “He has a girlfriend.”
Then one day, I would simply notice that a specific name was never mentioned again. I didn’t need to ask. Sometimes, the silence told me enough.
The Mother My Daughters Needed
I was blessed that my daughters trusted me enough to share their stories. Even though I could never fully understand the exact depth of their romantic pain, seeing them at one of the lowest points of their lives hurt my mother’s heart more than I can describe.
Surprisingly, I never became angry with their former boyfriends. Instead, I chose to give them the benefit of the doubt. Whatever happened between them, I reminded myself that there was another side to every story. Choosing understanding over anger gave me peace and helped me become the mother my daughters needed at that exact moment.
So, what did I do?
- I listened.
- I let them talk about everything and anything.
- I let them cry.
- I let them be angry.
- I let them sit with their sadness.
I truly believed that telling their story—again and again if necessary—was a vital part of their healing.
Gently Stepping In
But there were moments when the mother in me had to gently step in. I would tell them:
“Every morning when you wake up, remind yourself that it’s over. There will be no more messages waiting on your phone. He won’t call. He won’t come knocking on your door. Stop visiting his social media pages. You are no longer part of that chapter.Don’t lose yourself.
Love yourself.
Then slowly… come back to your life.”
After that, we simply lived. We watched movies. We ate out. We went for long walks. I prayed. And quietly, I watched for the little signs that they were beginning to return to themselves.
Healing has its own pace. What mattered to me was never how quickly they moved on, but that little by little, they began choosing life again.
A Mother's Constant Prayer
Every time one of my children entered a new relationship, I found myself praying the exact same prayer:
“Lord, if this relationship is Your will, bless it. If not, please let them part while they still can—before promises become vows, before marriage, before children. Let the ending, painful as it may be, become Your protection for both of them.”
Looking back now, I realize that some unanswered prayers were actually answered in a completely different way.
❤️❤️❤️
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