How to Move On
Why it takes longer than you think and what moving on actually means
Every time I do a Q&A on Instagram, I get a ton of breakup questions. The big three never change: How do you know when it’s time to end it? Should I talk to my ex? It’s been X amount of time—why can’t I stop thinking about them? I got those questions before my breakup, right after, and constantly since—often while I was asking myself the same things.
There isn’t a real answer to any of these questions. Sure, the internet says “go no contact,” etc.—but the reality of a breakup is loss, and loss is a process. It lasts. It hurts until it doesn’t. And sometimes that’s way longer than you think. And then it just dissipates, eases, and eventually lifts.
When my last relationship ended, it felt like I was going to drown in it—like it would never let up. But it did. And then a new process begins: sitting with the emptiness that remains, resisting the urge to fill it with distractions, and learning to find peace, excitement even in a new life.
Thats why I created a 4-week therapy group + workshop and it starts March 1st. This program is specifically designed to help you heal from heartbreak and finally move on. What I’ve written in this article touches on some of what we’ll cover, but the group goes much deeper, with structure, support, and actual guidance. You’ll have weekly live sessions with me, plus a full course with written and audio content and exercises to help you actually practice and integrate everything.
But read on too.
So—it impacts us, and we have to let it. That’s the price of love and the reason so many people avoid it. We try to bargain with grief, to optimize it, to turn it into a set of hacks: self-care, be with friends, go to therapy, stay in your body, cry, set boundaries, decide whether contact is healthy. All useful, sometimes. But the truth is, loss is hard no matter what you do. You can’t outrun or out-meditate it. Whether you talk, fuck them once more, or go full no-contact, there will be a stretch that feels unbearable. No-contact can help, and sometimes it’s necessary, but pretending a person is a substance you can just “quit” is overly simplistic. People are complicated. So is grief.
What I’ve learned is less of a method and more of a permission slip: you’re allowed to let it affect you for as long as it does. You’re allowed to not know. You’re allowed to miss them and still believe the ending was right. You’re allowed to think about them every day while also being disgusted and angry with how they treated you.
