Sis, I need to talk to you about the thoughts you can’t escape. It’s been weeks. Months. Maybe even years. You know you should be over them by now. Everyone says you should be. You tell yourself you should be. But you can’t stop thinking about them. Not occasionally. Constantly. You wake up thinking about
Sis, I need to talk to you about the invisible cord you can’t cut. The relationship ended. Weeks ago. Months ago. Maybe even years ago. You’ve moved on with your life—physically. You’re not together. You don’t talk. You might not even see each other. But emotionally? You’re still tied to them. You feel it: It’s
Sis, I need to talk to you about the blank wall you’re facing. People keep telling you, “This is a new beginning. A fresh start. An opportunity. The start of something better.” And you know they mean well. You know they’re trying to help. But when you try to imagine this “new beginning” they’re talking
Sis, I need to talk to you about the disorientation you’re experiencing. The relationship ended. And with it, something else disappeared too. You. Not physically. But the “you” you knew. The “you” you understood. The “you” who had direction, purpose, identity. Now you feel completely lost. Not sad. Not heartbroken. Not angry. Lost. Like: Everything
Sis, I need to talk to you about the paralysis you’re experiencing. The relationship ended. You know you need to start over. You know you need to rebuild. But when you think about everything that entails, you freeze. Because starting over isn’t one thing. It’s a thousand things: And when you look at all of
Starting over alone after a breakup can feel terrifying when your entire life was built around another person. Sis, I need to talk to you about the fear that’s keeping you frozen. The relationship is over. You need to start over. You know this. But there’s one thought that paralyzes you more than anything else:
Sis, I need to talk to you about the weight of starting over. The relationship ended. Whether you chose it, they chose it, or it just fell apart—it’s over. And everyone keeps saying the same thing: “You’ll be fine. You’ll start over. You’ll move on. This is a fresh start.” But starting over doesn’t feel
Sis, if choosing yourself makes you feel selfish, I want you to understand something important. When you are constantly overgiving, your love becomes mixed with fear. You are not always giving from fullness. Sometimes you are giving to avoid abandonment, conflict, guilt, or rejection. But when you begin to choose yourself, your love becomes cleaner.
Sis, I need to talk to you about why I feel selfish for choosing myself and the guilt that stops you from prioritizing yourself. You have a choice to make: And when you choose yourself, you feel selfish for choosing yourself. Not just a little guilty. Deeply, crushingly selfish. Like you’re doing something morally wrong.
Sis, I need to talk to you about why I feel responsible for keeping the peace and the job you never applied for but somehow ended up with. There’s tension in the room. Conflict brewing. Discomfort building. Someone’s upset. And you immediately go into action: Because somehow, keeping the peace is YOUR job. Not because