Why Some Breakups Don’t Make You Cry — And What That Teaches Us About Emotional Sovereignty

This is my newest article in Brainz Magazine. I'm loving the experience and hope you enjoy the thought provoking ideas I am sharing...

Relationships are deeply personal experiences of connection and vulnerability. We put our all into them if we want them to last. When they end, it’s usually painful and difficult to extract ourselves from the habit of having the person there.

For it to end, there is often a phase where the high of newness is replaced with challenges and mundane sameness. The euphoric feeling is longed for, and we keep trying—because we’re sure we can get it back if we just try hard enough, be good enough, love more.

But what happens when a relationship ends while it’s still good? When the connection is honest, intimate, soul-deep—and yet they still walk away?

Are we meant to fall apart? Is it harder to lose?

We Decide What Things Mean

Imagine the relationship has been building in depth and there is a mutual feeling of joy in the connection. Then, out of the blue, they text to say they’ve met someone during the week and want to go out on a date with them.

The bubble has been popped.

More than a year of relationship building evaporates, and it feels like it makes no sense. In that moment, we have a choice to make. We can collapse under the weight of confusion and loss, or we can stay rooted in the truth of who we are.

Imagine choosing not to be hurt—not out of pride or numbness, but out of reverence for ourselves. When we engage in a conscious relationship, and function from our healed self, we decide the meaning of the events in our lives. We choose the emotion we assign to each experience. We don’t have to build a new identity around someone else’s fear.

Losing Something Beautiful Can Be Its Own Kind of Freedom

There’s a strange grace in letting go of something that was good from start to finish.

The heartbreak that drags us under usually comes from relationships that began beautifully and slowly withered. We cling because we still remember the magic. We wait, hoping it will return.

But when someone walks away while it’s still beautiful, there’s no illusion to chase. No fantasy to fixate on. No breadcrumbs to follow. Just the stunning clarity that they weren’t ready—and that has nothing to do with us.

When It Was Sabotage, Not Rejection

When a partner leaves because we were enough—when nothing was wrong, in fact everything was right, and it terrified them—we’re faced with a strange kind of validation.

The confusion can quickly get misinterpreted by friends and blur reality. The nuance in action is that often, what we long for the most becomes the very thing we run from when it arrives.

When someone else genuinely wants what we want—when the desire is mutual, alive, available—it creates a kind of pressure we aren’t always prepared for. I call this Double Focus.

Instead of feeling supported, the shared intensity makes us feel exposed. Vulnerable. The heat turns up. The emotional pressure builds. And rather than holding still, we bolt.

We find excuses.

We rewrite the story.

We unconsciously try to trigger reactions to justify what we are about to do. We abandon the relationship—not because it failed, but because we were afraid to succeed.

If this relationship works, then we have to face something too painful to bear.

The running from what we want is not an act of cruelty or manipulation. It is simply fear, displaced onto innocent love. Because if we stay—if we remain in this space of pure love—then all our past hurts take on a new meaning.

We have to re-evaluate the stories we’ve told ourselves about pain, about trust, about who we are in love. And to re-evaluate… hurts more. Running is easier.

No Need to Cry, Chase, or Collapse

There is a moment when our own stillness allows us to hold that space—to breathe and choose.

We evaluate our part. We own that we showed up fully and know it was enough. We trust the confessions of uniqueness; of completeness experienced and honoured. We know it mattered, and we sense our gratitude.

We don’t need to chase. We don’t need to plead. We don’t try to rescue them from their own fear of love. When we sit in our truth—that we gave it our all, open-hearted, steady, present—and they left anyway, we know it is not a reflection of our inadequacy. It’s an indication of where they are in their journey.

We choose love.

They chose sabotage.

That’s the only story that needs telling.

The Real Lesson: Sovereignty Over Symptom

We don’t need to hurt just because someone leaves.

We don’t need to crumble to prove the love was real.

We don’t need to hold onto something simply because it felt good.

When someone walks away from us at our best, it’s them. Their threshold for realness—for having their dream, their ideal—reflects their fear of having it all.

And when we can see that without trying to rescue them, change the story, or dull our own shine… that’s clarity. That’s emotional sovereignty. That’s the step we take to lift ourselves up to a higher vibration that lets in even grander love.

Seven Strategies You Can Use:

1. Don’t chase explanations. Let their behaviour speak.

Confusion often clears when you stop trying to explain someone else’s avoidance. What they couldn’t say, they showed.

2. Pause before you make any conclusions.

Your mind will want to build a story. Start with your breath instead. Regulate first. Reflect later.

3. Reclaim your power with this question:

“What meaning do I want to assign to this experience?” Let you—not the pain—be the author of what comes next.

4. Feel the disappointment without feeding the fantasy.

Let yourself feel, but don’t make excuses for their inability to work through vulnerability.

5. Speak it, write it, move it.

Get the loss out of your system—through voice, through pen, through body. Suppression delays healing.

6. Make no sudden decisions.

Wait 72 hours before reaching out, ending friendships, or burning bridges. When the nervous system settles, truth becomes clearer.

7. Bless the version of yourself that showed up fully.

There is no shame in being open, hopeful, radiant, and real. That version of you didn’t lose. You evolved.

Pull out that loyalty card and put your stamp on it every time you choose to act from your healed self rather than old wounds.

And if you would like to find all my articles in Brainz Magazine here is the link, just save it to your favourites: https://www.brainzmagazine.com/executive-contributor/leonie-blackwell