Headspace Studios.
Hey there, welcome to Radio Headspace.
It's Dora.
So after a relationship ends, there's a specific kind of grief that doesn't get talked about enough.
I remember after one breakup, sitting alone in my apartment, scrolling through old photos.
And not because I missed him, though I did, but because I missed me.
The version of myself in those photos, who laughed with her whole body, who felt spontaneous light and a little fearless.
And in that moment, I realized the ache I was feeling wasn't only about losing someone I love.
It was about losing sight of the version of myself I loved when I was with them.
Our relationships don't just connect us to other people.
They connect us to parts of ourselves.
And when they end, it's not just the bond that breaks.
It's the mirror.
The one that reflected back a version of us we loved or were just getting to know.
And we grieve that too.
The identity that was shaped held and reflected in that relationship.
But here's something I'm coming to understand.
That version of you didn't disappear with the person.
They're still within you, waiting to be remembered, reclaimed, or maybe reimagined.
I remember a relationship that brought out a very playful, carefree side of me.
We'd take long drives with the window down, make up songs in the car, laugh until our stomachs hurt.
I felt spontaneous and light.
Life wasn't so serious.
When the relationship ended, I was heartbroken.
But what lingered even more than missing him was missing her.
That version of myself.
The one that didn't overthink everything.
The one who said yes to silly adventures.
The one who felt free.
And for a while I thought she was gone.
That maybe she only existed because of that relationship.
But slowly I started bringing her back.
I'd drive with the windows down again, sing in the car even when no one was there, say yes to small adventures just because they made me feel alive.
And slowly but surely, I felt her coming back.
I started giving myself permission to be light, playful, and free.
And I realized he didn't create that part of me.
He just illuminated her.
And I could do that too.
So, if you're in that space, missing someone, but also missing the version of you that lived in that love, here's what I invite you to remember.
One, grieve with compassion.
It's okay to feel the ache.
Not just for the relationship, but for the self you experienced inside it.
That version of you was real, worthy, and beautiful.
Number two is that part of you isn't lost, just quiet.
The parts of you that felt most alive, most curious, most lit up.
They may have gone dim for a while, but they're still inside you.
Healing isn't just letting go, it's also reaching in and gently pulling those parts forward again.
Number three is to use reflection to reconnect.
Ask yourself, what did I love about who I was when I was with them?
Was I more creative, more confident, more open-hearted?
Then look for ways to practice being that version of you for yourself and because of yourself.
Think of it like this.
That relationship may have been the match, but you were always the fire.
You're still whole, still layered complex, soft and strong, with or without anyone else to mirror it back.
But you who felt free or brave were fully seen in that relationship.
They didn't disappear when they did.
They're still here, maybe beneath some grief and maybe beneath some healing, but still here waiting for your love, your attention and your invitation to rise again.
You don't need to become someone new.
You just need to remember who you've always been.
Thanks so much for tuning in.
I'll see you tomorrow.