Date: April 29, 2025

Author: Sarah Collins

It’s hard to admit, but I’m still not okay. Life has this way of kicking you when you’re down, making you question everything you’ve believed in. If you told me a few years ago that I’d be here now, struggling to put the pieces of my life together, I wouldn’t have believed you.

A year and a half ago, I walked away from a five-year relationship. It was devastating, a betrayal I never saw coming. Cheating doesn’t just break trust; it shatters your entire sense of self. The pain hit me in waves, and for months, I was barely holding it together. It took about a year to finally heal from the hurt, but even then, I wasn’t the same person. The scars were there, hidden beneath the surface, and they didn’t fade as quickly as I hoped.

During that time, I threw myself into my career and fitness. It felt like the only thing I could control. Every morning, I pushed myself to run further, lift heavier, and drown out the thoughts of what had happened. For a while, it worked. I got stronger physically, but emotionally, I was still a mess.

There were offers, you know, casual relationships, and hookups. It seemed easy enough, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t ready. I had this principle, this belief, that when I met the right person, I needed to be honest and vulnerable, not just a shadow of myself. I wasn’t going to settle for anything less than real. So, I avoided those fleeting connections, knowing I wasn’t yet ready to open myself up to anyone.

Then, in August of last year, things changed. I met a girl, a friend of a friend, at one of those random gatherings you never expect to lead to anything significant. There was something about her — the way she carried herself, her genuine smile, the way her laugh felt like a breath of fresh air in a room full of static. We clicked instantly. It was almost effortless. But still, I held back, cautious as always, not sure if I was ready for anything serious.

She sensed it, of course. People always do. But instead of pushing me, she gave me the space I needed. We spent weeks just getting to know each other, talking about everything and nothing. Slowly, I started to let my guard down. It wasn’t immediate, but I felt myself healing in ways I hadn’t expected.

I’m still not completely over everything. The wounds from my past are still there, though they’re more like scars now. But with her, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could love again. It was messy, uncertain, and probably not how most people would do things, but it was real. And for the first time in a long while, I was starting to believe in the possibility of something good coming out of all the chaos.

So here I am, still figuring it all out, but at least now I’m not doing it alone. Life is messy, but I’m learning to navigate it one step at a time.