It’s been a year since the separation, and the path to healing has been anything but boring. So many unexpected, beautiful, complicated, and emotional things have happened — and somehow, I’ve taken every step with intention.

From attending MaTa Yuum gatherings to offering support to someone in crisis, to receiving care and comfort myself, I’ve learned that healing doesn’t look like one thing. It shows up in many forms. One of the most unexpected moments? Driving all the way to San Diego to help a friend in an emergency. I didn’t hesitate — I understood what was going on, and I just knew I needed to be there. I booked an Airbnb for six days and made space for them to get out, breathe, and begin again.

Watching someone I care about go through something so heavy made me realize how much I’ve grown. I was nervous, unsure how to help best, but I tried my damn best — and I really hope they felt that.

During those six days, something shifted in me. I felt safe. I felt comfortable. And most surprisingly… I felt seen. As the days went on, I started feeling more vulnerable—but in a way that felt healing, not scary. I was real. I was honest. And I shared more with that friend than I’ve shared with anyone in a long, long time.

That vulnerability? It unlocked something. It showed me that the more I let myself be real, the more I can feel understood and held. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that. And before heading back, I felt this strong pull—a whisper in my gut—to cut my hair. It sounds small, but for me? It was huge. I’ve had long hair for over a decade—11 or 12 years of love, grief, and holding on.

I stood in front of the mirror and chopped it all off myself. It wasn’t perfect. But it was freeing. When I saw the strands on the floor, I whispered to myself, Finally. I felt lighter. Like a weight had finally dropped off my shoulders.

I brought my friend back to the Bay Area with me so they could stay somewhere safe. They opened up about what they’d been going through, and I didn’t judge—just listened. Through it all, they held up a mirror to me, too. Helped me realize the things I still need to work on: welcoming my triggers instead of avoiding them, accepting that things didn’t work out with my ex, and continuing to learn how to communicate honestly and vulnerably.

I won’t lie—I still miss my ex. And that’s real. But I also accept that we won’t be together again. I’m thankful for everything we went through, even the pain. It taught me hard, necessary lessons.

And I’m incredibly grateful to the universe for bringing me and this friend together—not just for their safety, but for mine too. We both needed this connection. It reminded me of the power of community, of showing up, and of being human together.

Moving forward is hard. But I know I’ll be okay.

I’m not holding back anymore.

And that… that feels like freedom.

For anyone reading this — I invite you to reflect:

• Have you ever supported someone during a crisis? How did that change you?
• When was the last time you let yourself be raw and real with a friend? What happened?
• Is there something you’ve been holding onto for years—emotionally or physically—that you might be ready to release?
• What does safety and being “seen” feel like in your life right now?
• Have you ever made a change (like cutting your hair, leaving a relationship, or setting a boundary) that helped you reclaim yourself?
• What would it look like for you to be more vulnerable… starting now?
• How are you showing up for your own healing?

These questions aren’t easy — but healing rarely is.

If any of this resonates with you, just know: you’re not alone. We’re all figuring it out.

One brave step at a time.