Introduction
“Heartbreak brought you home, back to yourself,” my therapist said as I cried through smeared mascara. I’d just gone through the worst breakup of my life.
“Well, this shit hurts!” I sobbed.
“Good,” she said. She’d seen me struggle through this relationship, and her honesty was welcome within the bond that we’d built. “Otherwise you’d keep repeating the same patterns with the same jerk, and you wouldn’t be here about to embark on the journey back to yourself.” She was direct, with a mastery of shifting between the lace glove and iron fist—mirroring my emotional turmoil back to me so I could see how much pain he was putting me through. She’d seen me through the ups and downs, heard me refer to him as a jerk and then forget the next day. She wasn’t going to let me get away with anything. I wanted a no-nonsense therapist, and she understood the assignment.
I’d been dating someone who’d make plans, tell me, “I’m on my way,” and then not show up. He’d call hours later with an excuse, then apologize and promise to make it up to me. He would bring me gifts and do everything to make sure I’d forget what happened. This pattern left me in tears, wondering why he’d get my hopes up only to not show up physically or emotionally. Still, I was addicted to the constant ups and downs. Part of me wanted him to be sorry and make it up to me. It felt good to hear him apologize. Few people in my life ever had.
Through my therapist’s guidance, I came to see that the apologies were never followed up by meaningful change. They were simply a way to manipulate me. She pointed out that it was less about him and more about the pattern that was emerging in my own life and relationships, the toxic roller coaster I couldn’t seem to get off of. I relentlessly chased love, affection, and acceptance only to have the door slammed in my face every time. This heartbreak finally forced me to examine the ways that I had been disconnected from myself and my own emotional needs, and how I had focused on finding the love I needed from other people rather than cultivating it within myself.
My therapist showed me the harsh truth I had been afraid to confront: the patterns playing out in this relationship reflected old patterns from my earliest formative relationships. To be fully free and happy, I would need to work to understand the larger picture. At the time, I resisted the idea, but it was clear that she’d seen a version of me in many of her clients over the years. She knew us.
We’ve all been there—nursing a broken heart, silently wishing things would change, and patiently waiting for the world around us to adjust. It’s a hard place to be, isn’t it? Sometimes, it feels easier to live with the pain of heartbreak and failed relationships because at least it feels familiar. And you know what? That’s okay. It’s all part of our journey. At times, we might not be quite ready to look inward and explore our role in these relationships. That’s perfectly alright. Embracing our pain and giving it space to breathe is a significant step in our path to healing and growth. (Please note that if you have been in an abusive relationship, your abuser is responsible for that pain, always. However, there are key steps we can take to break the patterns that may repeatedly put us in toxic relationships. These steps are the focus of this book. My goal is that by following them, we can all find happiness and security in love.)
It might be a painful journey, but know that you’re not alone. I’m right there with you.
Hitting rock bottom in a toxic relationship often brings us to the painful realization that when a partner fails to love us enough, we also struggle to love ourselves.
When we choose with our wounds, we love from a place of pain. Our deep hunger for connection manifests as desperation. We “love hard” by loving too much, and, in our search for love outside of ourselves, we chase people who cannot or will not love us back.
Even if our efforts aren’t reciprocated, we accept the breadcrumbs of affection because they distract us from the truth of who we’ve become: women who don’t feel worthy of love. I understand this all too well because I was once that girl at rock bottom, wondering if there would ever be an end to the cycle of chaos and unpredictable relationships. I wanted someone else to do the hard work of loving me because I didn’t feel lovable. But deep down, I knew love shouldn’t feel like this. If you’re feeling this way too, know that you’re not alone. It’s hard to be in pain and know that you need to heal when you’re not quite sure where to start.
Navigating through the aftermath of a toxic relationship is definitely a roller coaster—it’s got its highs and lows, and some days you might feel alone and just plain tired of it all. But hey, I’ve got your back, and we’re going to take this journey together, step by step, until you find yourself again.
My therapist used to tell me that breakups, as tough as they are, bring us back to ourselves, and I’ve found that to be absolutely true. It’s like a doorway to the best version of you, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. I managed to become the strong and loving presence that the younger me really needed, and that’s something I believe in for you, too.
This whole experience actually shaped a big part of my career. I’m a therapist, and I’ve spent a good chunk of my time working with folks who’ve been through the wringer with difficult and devastating relationships. I’ve seen it all, and it’s become my mission to help people move past the hurt of toxic partnerships and develop into thriving adults.
I started The Inner Circle, an online group membership designed to provide a safe space for women who’ve been through it all. They come together, heal, share their stories, and find strength in one another. It’s not just a support group; it’s a community of survivors who are all working toward feeling whole again.
The stories and advice I share with you in these pages are coming from a place of real experience and a genuine desire to help. I’ve been there, I’ve helped others through it, and now I’m here to help you. We’re in this together, and I believe in your strength to get through this and come out even stronger on the other side.
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How might we reframe a traumatic breakup experience as the portal through which we heal and become the best version of ourselves? We have an opportunity to look at trauma and problematic relationships in the context of how they show up in our lives, and discover a new way to work with them instead of simply talking about them.
This won’t be a textbook that talks about the “what” of relational trauma. The time has come for us to do more than simply label trauma. We need to understand what it is, why it happens, and what we can ultimately do about it to stop hurting, start healing, and thrive. In this book, we will not only explore romantic relationships, but also consider the context of how the patterns we develop in our early formative relationships are reflected in our adult romantic relationships. In order to do that, we must look at where it all started: what happened, why, and how we can change course today for ourselves and for the generations after us.
This book is divided into three parts. In Part 1, I will talk about the essential steps a person needs to take in the immediate aftermath of heartbreak. Here we will discuss key concepts like hermit mode, the heart sabbatical, Pandora’s box, unconscious and conscious commitments, and external healing as opposed to internal healing. Once you are back on your feet, I move on to doing the deep work of internal healing in Part 2. Here we will discuss shadow and ego work, toxic shame, attachment styles, relationship archetypes, individual survival mode and relationship survival mode, and how understanding our internal selves helps us transition into someone who seeks out and sustains healthy relationships. Part 3 is my favorite. This is where we get to dive back into the dating world and use all our hard work. Here I talk about green flags, shared core values, intuition, response versus reactivity, and the new upper limit. Together, the steps, concepts, and exercises in these three parts are key to developing the necessary personal awareness and insights to catalyze monumental change in our romantic relationships. Along the way, I’ll share my own experiences and how I used these foundational tools to free myself from a cycle of toxic dating patterns. As someone who has been there, and as a psychotherapist who specializes in helping women break the cycle, I am here to guide you as you start your own healing journey.
You’ll learn about the different stages of healing, how to set boundaries, and how to manage difficult emotions. Most important, you’ll gain insight into how your formative childhood experiences continue to shape you and your current relationships. In the wake of a breakup, we all vacillate between feeling lonely, anxious, and optimistic, but that’s all part of the process. You may even go to therapy for a few months, tackle a few issues, and think you’re finished until more pink elephants materialize in your sessions showing you the other areas that need your attention. Pink elephant refers to a big, obvious problem that everyone knows about but nobody wants to talk about. It’s so obvious and strange, like a pink elephant would be, but everyone’s pretending it’s not there. It’s a way of saying, “Hey, we’re all ignoring something really important here.” As the journey continues, you’ll create healthier boundaries. But realize this also means you need to actually implement and stand by them.
This is what the “deep inner work” means. You’ll have days where you’re celebrating the brave decisions to walk away from the pain, and others when you want your old life back.
Somewhere along the line, you’ll think that if you just journal enough and read enough books, you’ll have fully done your part to heal. But eventually you will realize that healing isn’t linear; it’s an evolutionary process. As you come into this realization, it is also common to be bombarded by negative self-talk and ego-driven stories that try to derail your progress: “You’re weak for needing to take time to heal,” “If you don’t find someone else soon, you’ll be alone forever,” “You’re just wasting time.” But I want you to know that these are just stories that your ego creates because healing requires vulnerability and our egos didn’t sign up for that.
Unfortunately, we live in a society that encourages women to be soft and submissive for men. Then, when our hearts are broken, we’re told to get back out there and find someone new to get over the last one—as if our value as women lies solely in being in a relationship. We have to shake these beliefs off. Our value exists within ourselves, and it’s time to reclaim it.
Heartbreak brought me back home to myself, not only in my romantic relationships, but in every other area of my life. As long as I was still hurting and living in survival mode, it was difficult for me to heal and eventually thrive. The lessons were hard, and the journey has been bittersweet, but it has all been worth it.
We can change our narrative. This book is a guide to healing after toxic relationships and a guide to the rebirth of the best version of yourself. I’m here to shine a light on your path toward healing.
1My Story
My ex-husband and I met in graduate school in our early twenties, got engaged within eight months of dating, and married a year later. We bought our first home with plans to have children once we both were finished with graduate school. Because what else would we do other than continue to check boxes off our list of social expectations for young couples?
We endured the kind of stress that only hustle culture approves of. Our egos simply had to prove that we were good enough to our respective families. We were highly focused on achieving our way out of childhood trauma, and we both had something to prove as first-generation children of immigrants.
Our road to “success” was a roller coaster, but I convinced myself it was worth it to check off those boxes. I can now see that we were trapped in a cycle of emotional addiction that kept me in a never-ending cycle of love-bombing, withdrawal, make-ups, breakups, unpredictable behavior, and physical, emotional, and verbal abuse.
I remember the first time he slapped me in the face. Yes, I was upset and shocked, but we had a trip to see our parents the next day, and I had to pull it together. I turned to MAC Studio Fix and Naphcon to conceal my black eye. I worried my makeup would melt and reveal the truth of what I was hiding. Embarrassment. Shame. Guilt. I felt I was betraying the woman inside me who was screaming out for help. The woman who knew this wasn’t the kind of life or marriage she was meant to have. I still remember constantly checking the mirror to make sure that my concealer was working.
I held on for what would be years. The reality was that I needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. I’d spent so much time being a rock to everyone around me both personally and professionally that I didn’t know how to allow someone else to do that for me.
But every story, no matter how bleak, often has a turning point. For me, that moment arrived unexpectedly on a rainy Tuesday evening. I was outside, drenched from the rain and fumbling with my keys. As I stepped into the dimly lit hallway of my home, I heard a phantom sound that stopped me in my tracks. It was the sound of my younger self, from a time before the chaos, laughing without a care in the world.
I slid down the wall, buried my face in my knees, and let out a guttural scream—a blend of pain, frustration, and desperate longing for that lost version of myself. Right then, I realized that I had surrendered my joy, my identity, and my peace to a relationship that didn’t value me.
On that day, I made a promise to myself: no more hiding, no more justifying, and no more self-betrayal. It was time for me to reclaim my voice, to take back the reins of my life, and to rediscover the strong, vibrant woman who lay buried beneath years of suppression.
I never spoke up about the abuse I faced from my husband. My family didn’t know. My closest friends did not know. Not even my couples’ therapist knew. During that period of my life, I felt more shame than I even knew was possible. The shame of being a therapist, and seeing another therapist for help with my marriage. The shame of telling her that the strong and determined woman I cast for her was also being hit and slapped around? I just couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t share the truth with her. And at the time, I saw nothing wrong with that. That’s how deep this was for me. I was going to hide the truth regardless of the sacrifices, regardless of the cost.
Around this time I remember a friend saying to me, “You’ve changed, and I don’t like it. It’s like you’re this different person. No more light. No laughter. You’re not enjoying life. I know it. You know it. But we don’t have to talk about it. Just know that I know and when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” So, I grinned my way through that exchange while crying inside.
The last time my husband physically assaulted me, I was bloody, bruised, and had a cracked rib. I knew I had to call the police, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I knew that if I did, my life would change irrevocably. It meant giving up the mask. Still, another part of me knew I couldn’t keep living like this. There was no forgiving this. There was no way to unsee this. I was locked out of my home, bloody and bruised for my neighbors to see. There was no way that I could hide what had happened. I didn’t want to keep living like this; I deserved better.
I sat outside our door, crying on the phone with the 911 dispatcher. She calmed me down long enough for me to give her my location. The police arrived and took pictures of me exactly where they found me. On the ground, in the corner, hysterical and crying. Part of me was relieved I didn’t have to hide the truth anymore, but mostly I was embarrassed.
Pressing charges against him finally gave me the permission to leave.
The officer assigned to my case assured me that my ex had been apprehended a few blocks away and that I was safe. They called my uncle, who came over, and they gave me a safety plan as well as what to expect over the next few days. They arrested my ex, and I was issued a temporary restraining order for seventy-two hours. The officer would later call and visit to make sure I was okay in the days after the incident and leading up to the court date. When I saw him again in court, I gave him a note thanking him for everything he’d done on that day. There are so many different people that help us on our journeys to healing, and he was one of them.
After the divorce, I started seeing a new therapist. I remember asking her, “When will I know that I will be okay after all that I’ve been through?”
Her answer might be unsettling for some, but it’s what I needed to hear at the time, and I deeply feel there is wisdom in confronting this uncomfortable truth: “When you can look at all of this and see the lesson to be learned.” She helped me see that, yes, the marriage had to end, for obvious reasons, but the woman who had married that monster had to evolve as well. It took a long time, but I can now call that old version of myself a friend. My lessons were in learning how to let go so that I could grow. Had that day not happened, I cannot say I would have found the strength to leave on my own. I’d talked about leaving, even fantasized about it. But there was no concrete plan in place until that day.
I’d convinced myself that by hiding the truth, I was focusing on the good in the marriage. I didn’t understand the emotional somersaults and the resulting wear and tear on my psyche until I was out of it. My health was deteriorating, and I was only in my late twenties. Read that line again. My twenties! But once I filed for divorce, I never looked back.
By leaving him, it made me work harder to break the cycle of emotional addiction, starting my own journey toward healing in all my relationships.
Copyright © 2024 by Ginger Dean
