Heartbreak is a spiritual, emotional, cognitive, and physiological crisis—and one of the most painful and disorienting experiences most of us will ever go through. When we lose someone we’ve loved deeply—or even someone we’ve formed a strong attachment to—it can feel like the ground has fallen out from beneath us. We experience a visceral sense of raw emotional vulnerability—so much so that our entire body aches. It's as if any existing sense of identity, security, and emotional well-being has unraveled all at once.

And in those moments of insecurity, uncertainty, and at times torment, we just want relief from the anxiety of not knowing. More than anything, we want the pain to stop. We’re desperately trying to make sense of what happened—grasping for answers, for some sense of control. Out of desperation, we try to hold on to the person we love, searching for any way to fix what’s broken and somehow make the relationship work.

Unfortunately, much of what we’re told about healing heartbreak is based on cultural myths—or, more accurately, misunderstandings. Banal platitudes, often uttered by well-meaning friends and family members, only add to our confusion. They minimize our pain, deny our hurt, and certainly don’t help us heal.

What often happens is that the pain lies dormant within us. Over time, it can have a numbing or deadening effect—creating walls and barriers that diminish our capacity to love, and to let others love us. These barriers not only keep us disconnected from ourselves but also block our ability to attract and connect with someone with whom we could actually form a loving, intimate bond.

When that pain remains unprocessed, it tends to play out through a series of painful reenactments—drawing us into relationships or situations that evoke many of the same old, unresolved emotions. And sometimes, the emotions we haven’t been able to fully digest keep us fixated on the very person who rejected or abandoned us—trapping us in a loop we don’t know how to break.

So let’s deconstruct some of the most common myths—one by one—about healing heartbreak and get honest about what real healing actually takes.

Time Heals All Wounds

We’ve heard this so many times, and for some, it may sound comforting. But the reality is—time doesn’t heal. As time passes, the sadness, hurt, anger, and other distressing emotions we haven’t thoroughly processed may diminish in intensity. But just because the pain dulls doesn’t mean the deeply wounded parts of us have healed. More often than not, those parts simply go into a numbed or deadened state.

When emotions remain trapped in the body, they don’t just sit there quietly—they continue to shape our perceptions and emotional responses. A lot of this is happening outside of our conscious awareness, beneath the surface. And yet, it profoundly influences the kinds of people we attract and the dynamics we end up recreating. We find ourselves reenacting the same painful dramas in future relationships. Or we end up building protective walls around ourselves—barriers that diminish our ability to truly love and to be loved in return.

I’ve worked with countless individuals who were still carrying heartbreak from years—even decades—earlier. They were never able to digest the devastating losses they had suffered or the emotions tied to them. The sadness, grief, anger, feelings of loss and betrayal were still very much there—sometimes raw and intense, sometimes numbed, or stuck in a kind of putrid mix because they’d been buried in the body for so long.

If you’re not actively working with your authentic emotional response—feeling it, processing it, learning from it—it doesn’t go anywhere. It just gets buried deeper in your system, where it turns into chronic tension, emotional numbness, or physical illness.

The Need for Closure

Naturally, we feel a need for closure when a relationship comes to an end. Yet it becomes a trap when parts of us continue to hold on—hoping for some sense of resolution that often never comes. We’re left thinking: If we could just sit down and talk… if we could open up and share what we’re truly feeling and thinking… maybe it would ease the hurt. Maybe I’d feel some sense of completion and finally be able to let go.

The problem is, it often doesn’t work that way. We may find ourselves seeking closure from someone who is either unwilling—or simply unable—to give it to us. And in many cases, what we call “closure” is really a disguised hope—a longing to feel close to them again, to be seen, to be acknowledged, to receive some kind of approval or validation.

As much as we may yearn to reconnect with what we once had—or for some final moment of resolution—it’s probably not going to come from them. And even if it did, the truth is: there’s nothing they could say that would make it right. What’s left is ours to carry. It’s up to us to acknowledge and grieve the loss, to work our way through that painfully empty void—the one their absence left behind.

We’re left sitting with the reality that the future we once envisioned together is no longer. The moments we hoped to share won’t happen. There may be things we wish we’d said—or done differently. And now we’re left with this convoluted tangle of unresolved feelings, unspoken words, and emotional fragments that have nowhere to land.

It hurts. And there’s no way around it.

The only way out is through.

And even though it can feel horribly unsettling at times, the act of embracing our loss is what ultimately moves us toward a deeper connection with ourselves—and with others in ways that are far healthier, and far more real.

You Just Have to Let Go

“Letting go” sounds like something you can just decide to do—like flipping a switch. Suddenly everything’s cool, and now I’m free to move on. But in real life, it’s rarely that simple.

You can’t just shut it all off and stop caring about someone you were deeply connected to. And trying to force yourself to “let go” before you’ve actually worked through the emotions can backfire. It creates shame: Why am I still hurting? Why do I still care so much about this person? Why can't I stop thinking about them? That shame can easily turn inward and become something far more damaging: There must be something truly wrong with me.

It’s important to understand that you don’t have to stop caring in order to heal. What needs to shift is the nature of your relationship to this person—the role they played in your life, the meaning you attached to the connection, and the context in which you related to them. Even if they were once an important part of your life, things have changed. Life is moving on. They’re no longer in the picture—or at least not in the same way. And now, you’re stepping into a new chapter… maybe even an entirely new reality.

Healing isn’t about erasing the past. It’s about reclaiming and re-integrating the parts of yourself that became entangled in that relationship and the emotional charge it carried. This is a time to come back to yourself—to feel the aloneness, not as something to escape, but as something to explore. To begin sensing into that deeper inner presence that may have gotten buried when so much of your time, effort, focus, and identity revolved around this other person.

We’re constantly fed the myth that life is about finding the one—that special person who’s supposed to fulfill our needs and somehow complete us. And while those moments of deep connection are very real, this is a crucial time to reconnect with you—your thoughts, your sensations, your longings, your grief. It’s a time to allow yourself to feel the full range of what’s moving through you, and to reconnect with the parts of your authentic self that may have been lost in the dynamic of the relationship.

Jump Into Something New to Move On

We’re living in a culture of distraction—where all you have to do is swipe to escape the pain, the loneliness and longing. Amid the uncertainty, or after a devastating loss, it’s easy to get on Tinder or other dating apps. Captivated by the seemingly endless selection, you go on a few dates—maybe you even hook up—just to feel something, anything, other than the grief or emptiness. And for a moment, it seems to work. Maybe you find this new person attractive. You feel desired. And being physically intimate gives you a fleeting sense of connection.

But more often than not, it just adds to the confusion. Because underneath it all, you’re still hurting—still deeply attached to the person you loved, still longing for what you had. And no amount of swiping or momentary pleasure is going to alleviate the depth of that loss.

While it may offer temporary relief, it often ends up delaying—or even preventing—you from truly healing. Instead of allowing ourselves to grieve the loss and sit with the emptiness, you latch onto someone new, hoping they’ll somehow fill the void.

But eventually, it all catches up. The grief, the unmet needs, the unresolved issues and conflicted emotions from your last relationship—they resurface. And if you’ve jumped into something new too soon, chances are, they’ll start playing out in this new relationship.

That’s why it’s so critically important to give yourself time. Time to be with yourself. To feel the full range of emotions. To reflect, to grieve, to digest your connection with the person you’re no longer with—and everything that came with it—before opening your heart and being intimate with someone new.

If It’s Still Hurting, You’re Not Healing

Most of us were never taught how to work effectively with our emotions—which isn’t surprising, considering we live in a culture that denies suffering and avoids emotional discomfort at all costs. One of the biggest misconceptions about healing is the belief that if you're still grieving, then you're not healing. But the truth is, the presence of sadness, longing, or other distressing emotions doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It means you’re human.

You cannot heal what you don’t feel. Give yourself full permission to feel—knowing this is a necessary and natural part of the healing process. Even when your heart aches and you still miss the person you lost, stay with your experience of loss as fully as you can. Bring your full awareness to the feelings and bodily sensations that arise. And breathe from the depths of what you’re feeling.

Because when you breathe from the depths of your emotions, you’re activating the innate healing intelligence that resides within your body and mind. Over time, the intensity of the sadness and grief will diminish. As this happens, both your lived experiences and emotional responses are being transformed into fuel for growth.

This kind of inner work not only facilitates the healing of the deep emotional wounds—it also opens your heart in a way that expands your capacity to love and be loved.

You Can Think Your Way Through It

In response to a painful breakup, being ghosted, or having someone we care about suddenly pull away, our entire system can go into a kind of shock. Cravings take over as dopamine drives us to seek that sense of connection again. Stress and anxiety surge as cortisol floods the body. At the same time, we feel emotional—and even physical—pain as the oxytocin and vasopressin that once bonded us to this person abruptly drop off. Serotonin levels drop, while emotional arousal stays high, setting off obsessive looping thoughts. We find ourselves replaying every conversation, analyzing every word and gesture, talking to anyone who’ll listen—desperately trying to make sense of what happened. We just want clarity. We want the pain to stop.

It’s natural to seek a cognitive understanding, to try to create a cohesive narrative out of something that feels chaotic and unresolved. But the painful emotions, combined with all the fluctuations in our neurochemistry, fuel irrational thoughts—and, at times, desperation. We spin in our heads because we want answers, we want relief, and we want a way out of the pain. But the truth is: you’re not going to think your way out of it.

One of the most important things you can do in these moments is to accept the lack of closure—the not knowing. And when your mind starts spinning again, ask yourself, “What are the deepest feelings underneath all this?” Then breathe softly, while fully immersing your awareness in the depths of whatever feelings or bodily sensations begin to arise.

Yes, you’ll get pulled back into your head—and it will probably happen a lot. When it does, gently return your awareness to your body and emotional experience, again and again. As you stay with the tangle of grief, longing, confusion, or anger—and become more present in your body—your mind will gradually begin to settle. In time, you’ll find more ease, a sense of acceptance, and eventually, deeper insight and understanding.

What Real Healing Looks Like

One of the measures of success so often propagated in our society is the idea of “finding that special someone.” For many, the ultimate goal is to be happily married with children. We're constantly bombarded with messages that suggest if our relationships haven’t led to that outcome, we’ve somehow failed. But it brings to mind the words of the ancient Greek philosopher Pythagoras: “Custom and nature do not agree, for the many formed custom without understanding nature.”

The truth is, there are no guarantees. We may not find love in the way we hoped. Or we may find it, only to lose it. Even so, we have basic human needs—for connection, intimacy, and belonging—that so often go unmet. We do form attachments. And when those bonds break or relationships don’t unfold the way we’d imagined, we’re left sitting with feelings of grief, sadness, longing, and sometimes despair.

If you’re hurting, it means you loved. It means you felt deeply. And that is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s an essential part of being human. It doesn’t mean you failed.

Real healing isn’t about denying what happened or rushing to feel “better.” Even though it may not look the way you wanted it to, it’s so important to embrace your lived experience for what it is. To feel your authentic emotional response fully. To breathe into it. And to make use of the most effective practices and therapeutic interventions available to support your process.

This is the work. This is the path. And it’s through this process—of facing your pain, digesting your lived experience, and showing up for yourself again and again—that real healing and growth take place.

Healing is a gradual unfolding. Let it be what it is.

©Copyright 2025 Ben Oofana. All Rights Reserved.

Having trained with a traditional Native American doctor (medicine man) and gone through so many vision quests, I serve as a conduit for an extraordinarily powerful healing presence—one that works through me to facilitate deep transformation in both body and mind.

If you’re in the midst of a breakup or other heartrending life event, this presence can help you fully digest your lived experience—along with the grief, sadness, and emotional residue you may be carrying. Not only can your heart heal, but you’ll also begin to build the resilience and emotional capacity needed to love—and be loved—more fully.

Reach out to schedule a session: (332) 333-5155.