This morning, I got online to get a little work done when a Facebook memory appeared in my feed. I felt my heart pause as I recalled the emotions of the moment. The memory was a letter I had written to myself a year ago in the thick of divorce. I was feeling lost and broken, clinging desperately to the hope that everything would somehow be okay.
The letter, titled “Dear Heartbroken Me,” was an exercise in self-encouragement. I was writing to convince myself that I could heal from this and that I was still lovable.
Reading my own thoughts, I could tell I was clinging to hope like a cat on a curtain. It was strange, from where I emotionally stand a year later, looking back at the way I was thinking. That hopelessness bleeding through my voice feels like it belongs to someone else entirely.
I kept finding myself reflecting on how much has changed—not just my life, but who I am on the inside. What I wanted to do was reach through the screen, shake myself, and say, “Girl, it gets better.”
But I can’t go back in time. I can’t stop her from hurting. I can’t tell her what I know now.
What I can do, though, is share this message in case it can help someone else on that journey. For anyone struggling to heal your heart, here are the words I wish someone told me.
Dear Heartbroken Friend,
I know how it feels to wonder if you’ll ever be okay again. I know how the grief of someone who is still living can feel impossible to bear. But I want you to know this: you are not alone.
I promise you, it gets so much better. Please hold on to hope.
This sort of loss is an isolating journey, but there’s a reason you walk it alone. What you are learning right now is a life-saving lesson, and that is this: everything you need is right there inside of you.
Once you learn that, you can show up for yourself. And that’s what it means to love. When you hit that phase of healing—buckle up, my friend—because self-love truly changes everything.
Suddenly, little joys that have been snuffed out in your heart over time will start flickering back to life again. You’ll savor the taste of ice cream and listen to a love song and smile without turning the radio off. And when you taste this happiness, it will be so sweet that you’ll do anything to protect it. There will become nothing more important in your life than the peace you have worked so hard to reclaim.
That new, fierce inner love, that beautiful self-protection, will do something remarkable on its own. It will create an ecosystem in your life where only healthy relationships can thrive. You will realize that if someone’s presence doesn’t align with your wholeness, then you don’t need it—or even want it—anymore.
What once felt like love will begin to look smaller, something less than you ever deserved.
And once you get there, once you’ve healed your own heart, you will realize the truth that I now know for certain: The light at the end of the tunnel was you all along.
I promise—you’ll be more than okay.
With love,
Someone Who’s Been There
Dear friends,
It means everything to me that you’re here. Writing is not only my work—it’s my way of connecting with you, and I’m deeply grateful for that. I’ll always keep my words open and accessible because encouragement should never come with a price tag.
For those of you who choose to support this work financially, thank you for keeping the lights on.
With love and gratitude,
Mary Katherine
You were so right! It must have warmed your heart to read your own wise and true words. So reassuring.
I have been through a lot of hurts in my trips around the sun, but the mother of all hurts occurred Oct 2023 when my middle daughter died suddenly. I look back at the journal I was keeping and despite the aching, screaming pain, I was giving myself pep talks. Looking back, even then I knew the pain a year later would be changed by the process of walking through all that pain. I'm glad you are able to go back and see the journey of pain you have traveled. My hope for everyone walking a stormy path takes time to love their hurting selves. Carrying hope with us is like having a candle that glows stronger as we heal.