After years my shattered heart? can I mend my shattered heart?
THIS will sound strange, but I find your letter moving and beautiful. You have endured terrible mistreatment at the hands of a man you once loved and trusted — surely one of the worst of life’s betrayals.
Yet you do not write in bitterness; there is no rancour or desire for revenge. I congratulate you on your resilience, courage and wisdom.
we all go on learning and I have just read about a concept that will interest you. It’s called posttraumatic growth — an academic theory that puts into professional terms something I have been saying for years: that life-changing events can actually have longterm beneficial effects.
No matter how annoying and complacent it can sound, the truth is that mental and spiritual growth can be the good that comes out of suffering.
Take a look at the website of the research group (ptgi.uncc.edu) to find out more.
I mention this because I share your doubts about diagnosing yourself with post-traumatic stress and seeking help for this.
while I believe that talking to a therapist can be useful to most of us at different times, it seems to me that you have already moved on to post-traumatic growth.
It’s important to realise that this is not a denial of the misery you have endured or that you won’t continue to experience unhappiness and bewilderment at the loss of your dream of married life. But it does mean that you have the ability to harness that pain and move through it, step by determined step, in order to make sense of what has happened and create a new life for yourself and your children.
will your heart always be shattered? My answer is yes and no. None of us can unlive what has happened, unlearn lessons in disappointment, unhappiness, shame and loss.
Do you know that famous quatrain from the Rubaiyat of omar Khayyam, about the finger of fate writing, then moving inexorably on? It’s at the top of today’s column.
The idea may seem harsh — nevertheless, it’s true. we cannot change the past, but we can be strong and take control of the future.
And this is exactly what you are doing. Your words, ‘I have enough courage to climb mountains’, are a magnificent statement of selfhood and survival — a transformation I would wish for every person who writes to this column.
Your brave spirit is the golden glue that’s even now assembling the shattered pieces (just look up Kintsugi — a Japanese art form with broken pottery) of your heart.
Join me in marvelling at the miracles that can be achieved when imperfection is accepted and the broken put together so it’s not only stronger, but more beautiful. Battered, but magnificent.