“Heartbreak isn’t just reserved for romance”

I was about to break up for the school holidays, and my mind was only thinking about sleeping in and going out with friends. One afternoon my parents called me downstairs because they wanted to talk. We came down and sat in the living room. The atmosphere felt thick, suffocating almost, as if the air itself knew what was coming. 

My mum is the first one to speak. “You know me and your dad care about you so much. You’re our first priority,” she explained. That was when I knew. It was happening. The words I had feared but never dared to say out loud. I could feel my eyes burning up trying to hold back tears, my gaze fixed on the floor. I heard the ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound piercing through tense silence. Even though I had never seen much affection between my parents, it still hurt in ways I never expected. 

Divorce is still a taboo subject for some. It can be seen as an unspoken failure that families cover up with forced smiles. In many societies, divorce carries shame, particularly for women. Marriage is seen as a lifelong commitment, and breaking it apart can be perceived as a dishonour rather than an act of self-preservation. 

This divorce changed the way I saw love and heartbreak completely. Before, love seemed like something that just existed, something that happened when people got married and stayed together. It wasn’t something I really questioned. But when my parents separated, I realised love wasn’t just about staying. It was about choice. And sometimes, people choose to leave.

It’s strange because my parents were never the type to hold hands in public or say “I love you”. So, I’m not sure why I was so surprised when their relationship ended. Maybe I had believed that love meant endurance, that as long as two people stayed together, it meant something. But in that moment, sitting in my living room, I understood that love wasn’t always enough to keep two people together. And that realisation broke my heart. 

This was probably my first experience of heartbreak. But it was a silent one. Unlike romantic breakups, where friends offer comfort and reassurance, this heartbreak was something I never really spoke about. There were no late-night talks, no one checking in to ask how I felt. Divorce is a strange thing. It’s something that reshapes you but doesn’t always come with space to grieve. 

Love is not just about staying. It’s about choosing every day to care, be present, and nurture.

Over the years, I tried to process it alone. I carried the weight of it in quiet moments, in the way I hesitated to believe in lasting love, in the way I found myself bracing for the end before relationships even began. The divorce has made me wary. It made me question whether love was meant to last or if it was always just temporary. Now, I find myself scared of being in a relationship at all. I sabotage connections before they have a chance to grow as if I expect love to fall apart, so I brace myself for the inevitable heartbreak before it even happens. But at the same time, I’ve always wanted that love-at-first-sight kind of romance. My expectations have grown impossibly high, shaped by the fear of settling for something that won’t last. I want something perfect, something unbreakable, yet I also fear that such love doesn’t exist. 

It’s a strange contradiction. I crave deep, passionate love, yet I run from it the moment it feels real. There have been moments where I thought, maybe this time will be different. Like when I started talking to a guy from school who genuinely seemed to like me. He was thoughtful, kind, and made me laugh. For a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to have something real. But the second I felt myself getting attached, I convinced myself that it wouldn’t last. That love, no matter how good, was destined to end. So I pulled away, ignored his texts and let the connection dissolve before it had the chance to mean something. 

Healing wasn’t quick, but with time, I have begun to understand that love is not just about permanence. Love is not just about staying. It’s about choosing every day to care, be present, and nurture. And sometimes, it’s about choosing to end a relationship when staying hurts more than leaving. Especially if there are kids involved. My parent’s divorce broke my heart, but it taught me that love is complex and heartbreak isn’t just reserved for romance. It’s something that reshapes the way we love, the way we grieve, and the way we learn to let go.