The Recovering Codependent’s Field Guide to Healing from Heartbreak
As a recovering codependent, I understand how earth-shattering a breakup can be. In the throes of codependency, our romantic relationships are defined by our “excessive emotional or psychological reliance” on our partners. As such, we experience breakups more severely than most.
In my journal the morning after a devastating breakup, I had written: “I cannot comprehend the degree of pain I’m in.” Therapist and codependency recovery expert Ross Rosenberg writes that, for the codependent person, a breakup causes pathological loneliness, which is “excruciating painful and is experienced physically, emotionally, existentially, and spiritually. […] In the throes of pathological loneliness, the [codependent] feels isolated, unloved, unsafe, and fundamentally unworthy.”
His statement perfectly describes my emotional state after my breakup. I felt as if the language did not exist for the particular type of hurt I felt. It was similar to grief, but tainted with the cutting edge that my partner had chosen to leave me. This was the most painful part of all, and left me vulnerable to self-loathing, blame, and regret.
In the weeks that followed, I was astounded by the dearth of professional support available to me. Myriad support groups and counselors existed for those who had suffered a loss, but none that treated heartbreak as a grief equivalent. The generic advice to “move on” and “focus on your hobbies” did not apply to me because, as a codependent person, I’d completely enmeshed my identity with my partner’s. In his absence, I was lost, even to myself.
Historically, codependency was used to describe the way families of alcoholics and addicts enabled the addict by “over-helping.” A broader definition has emerged of the codependent as someone who orients themselves around the needs or approval of others, even to their own detriment.
Though I didn’t realize it at the time, that breakup was a giant first step on my road to codependency recovery. Through my healing experience, I rediscovered the voice I’d lost, and it returned stronger and bolder than ever. I can now look back on this time of grief and healing as the most transformative experience of my life.
These are the 11 practices that made my breakup bearable and transformed my pain into a conduit for codependency recovery.
1. Journal the Hell Out of Your Breakup
In the four months following my breakup, I filled three journals. 750 pages. Each morning, I walked downstairs in my pajamas, brewed a hot mug of coffee, sat on the porch in the morning sun, and wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
Throughout my life, I’ve used Moleskines and Leuchtturms to document my high school romances, my transition to college, my first job, the highs and lows of sobriety, my leap of faith into self-employment, and more. Journaling my breakup was by far the most impactful application of my journaling habit to date. This is why: Journaling gave me an outlet where I could voice all of my grief, pain, longing, and loneliness.
After my breakup, I was amazed by the amount of pure, raw feeling the human heart can withstand. I was constantly bombarded by big, complicated emotions, and I needed an outlet where I could unpack them. My journal was a safe space to process my feelings. Unlike my dear friends and family, my journal was incapable of emotional exhaustion; it could listen to me process the same tired tales ad infinitum. It never admonished me for coming to the same revelations three times over.
One of the hallmarks of codependency is a tendency to hide real feelings. Journaling provides a safe place for you to be honest about your feelings. It gives you practice in examining your feelings and expressing them, rather than the performative ways you might have been seeking approval rather than being truly honest.
Journaling was the portal back to my identity
My identity had been interwoven with my partner’s. I had to re-learn myself in his absence. Journaling was the portal back to my voice — a voice that been buried by layers of codependency. By putting my pen to paper, crafting sentences in my own words, and voicing my own feelings, I reclaimed a sense of self. The mere habit alone — investing an hour or two each day in self-discovery — was a revolutionary act of self-care.
Journaling was the whiteboard where I unpacked my codependency and reframed my breakup
In this way, journaling became the gateway to my future — a future that held the possibility of growth and happiness. Here are the four prompts that I found most impactful. You might use them yourself:
What painful memories affirm the “rightness” of my separation? Consider fights I had with my partner, the hurtful things he said or did, or traits I developed during the relationship that I disliked.
What did I sacrifice by being in this relationship?
In what ways did this relationship obstruct me from being the best version of myself?
What opportunities are available to me now that I’m not in this relationship?
2. Read Books That Mirror Your Experience, Offer a Pathway to Hope, and Broaden Your Perspective
Grief baffles the human mind. Psychologist and author Suzanne Lachmann writes: “Once you start to get your mind around the reality of the loss, the intensity of your need to understand how, when, and why it happened can become all-consuming.”
After my breakup, I was desperate for answers. Why did my ex leave me? Why did it hurt so badly? How could I ease my pain? I was hungry for information that validated my experience and offered concrete suggestions for healing.
I piled my nightstand high with literature on grief, loss, and spirituality. Whereas my breakup had been utterly disempowering, channeling my energy into research gave me a semblance of control. I couldn’t convince my partner to reunite with me, but I could empower myself by taking responsibility for my healing process. The books I found most effective fit three important criteria:
They mirrored my experience
They offered a pathway to hope
They broadened my perspective
They mirrored my experience
In the throes of my grief, I often wondered if there was something wrong with me. How could I possibly feel so much pain? Was I permanently broken? Books that mirrored my experience reassured me that I was healing at the right pace. They reiterated, over and over, that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I highly recommend:
The Human Magnet Syndrome by Ross Rosenberg
Codependent No More by Melody Beattie
Facing Codependence by Pia Mellody
The Dance of Intimacy by Harriet Lerner
They offered a pathway to hope
I was reassured and inspired by testimonials from folks who had emerged into the light after the dark tunnel of grief. These small doses of hope became my motivation to do the hard work of healing. I highly recommend:
Getting Past Your Breakup by Susan J. Elliott
The Journey From Abandonment to Healing by Susan Anderson
Beyond Codependency by Melody Beattie
Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle
They broadened my perspective
After my breakup, I often felt as if my life had narrowed to a singular point: my loss and my pain. I benefited immensely from books that shook me from my ruminations and reminded me of the world’s breadth and scope. They became my respite. I highly recommend:
The Exquisite Risk by Mark Nepo
Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
3. Set Realistic Expectations for Your Grief
Full disclosure: I didn’t expect the pain of my breakup to last as long as it did. Each morning when I woke, my mind foggy with sleep and dreams, I thought to myself, ”This is it — today is the day I heal!” But moments later the pain of my reality flooded in and I become a sobbing wreck on my bedroom floor. Anyone who has ever suffered a loss will understand the cunning brutality of this momentary morning forgetting.
I was impatient to feel happy again. I expected that the self-knowledge I gained from my reading and journaling would expedite my healing process. But this vicious cycle of high hopes followed by pain and disappointment wasn’t sustainable.
When we distract ourselves from our pain with a flurry of motion, we fool ourselves into thinking we’re being productive. We fall victim to the addictive high of the quick fix. But as any hard worker in any field will tell you, there is no substitute for good, hard work.
I finally came to terms with the fact that I had to do the good, hard work of healing at my own pace. I decided to adjust my expectations. Every night before bed, I gently reminded myself, “Tomorrow when I wake up, I will feel great sadness.”
That statement, which sounds like a proclamation of defeat, became a great respite. When the grief flooded in like a predictable tide, I didn’t battle it tooth and nail. As a result of anticipating the feeling, I was able to surrender to it entirely, which made it pass more quickly.
When you are healing, keep in mind that you have been through a harrowing emotional trauma. Be kind to yourself by setting realistic expectations for your process. It takes time.
4. Rebuild Your Web of Social Connections
When my ex was the sun at the center of my solar system, I basked in his light and forgot the importance of my other connections. I was slow to respond to texts and calls. I prioritized evenings with my partner over evenings out with friends. My isolation stealthily whittled away my social circle.
After my breakup, I felt as if I’d been ejected from a two-and-a-half-year tornado. I looked around at the wreckage, bewildered and utterly alone.
Psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach posits that the root of all suffering is the experience of severed belonging. She writes,
“Our most fundamental sense of well-being is derived from the conscious experience of belonging. Relatedness is essential to survival. When we feel part of the whole, connected to our bodies, each other, and the living Earth, there is a sense of inherent rightness, of being wakeful and in love.”
I took her words to heart. In the weeks that followed my breakup, I swallowed my pride and sent texts to folks who had once been best friends and folks who had been mere acquaintances. I told them the truth: “I really need a friend right now.”
I was astounded by the open-heartedness of those who responded supportively. The day after my breakup, I had two hour-long phone calls with friends I hadn’t spoken to in months. Later, one friend rode his motorcycle 30 minutes across town to leave a bouquet on my doorstep. Another friend texted me every morning for a month to ask, “How is your heart today?”
These connections flooded my heart with messages that I desperately needed to hear: I want you in my life. You are worthy. You deserve love. You are not broken. I care about you. You are not alone. They broke me from the illusion of isolation and reminded me that, if I invested the smallest of efforts, I would never be alone.
If you’re anything like me, in your existential moments you may question these blossoming friendships. “What’s the point?” you may wonder morosely. “There’s no way I’ll ever feel the same connection to this person as I did to my ex.”
And you’re right. These connections won’t feel the same; they may even feel entirely unfamiliar. Though that newness can be painful when juxtaposed with your memory of comfortable familiarity, it is exactly what you need.
My friends offered fresh perspectives that enabled me to see myself in a different light. In their presence, I realized I was funny, and interesting, and lovable! Our fresh synergy opened my eyes to the colors of myself I’d forgotten. These colors became the building blocks of my stronger, bolder self-concept.
5. Absolutely No Contact With Your Ex Whatsoever, Under Any Circumstances. For Any Reason. Ever.
Susan J. Elliott and her book Getting Past Your Breakup are credited with popularizing the No Contact rule. Elliott writes:
“Whether they contact you or you want to contact them, avoid getting in touch with your ex. Giving in to the urge to contact will stall your healing. No Contact is necessary so that your mind can adjust to the new order of things… Contact just puts you back into the old world, and the mind slams on the brakes of grieving.”
After you and your ex have handled the necessary logistics of decoupling like splitting possessions, moving out, and handling finances, do not contact him under any circumstance. For any reason. Ever.
No phone calls. No emails. No text messages. No accidentally-on-purpose run-ins. Going totally No Contact means you also unfollow your ex on all social media channels: Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Venmo.
This rule was difficult for me to swallow at first. At least when I followed my ex on social media, I could maintain the illusion of continued connection. Being disconnected entirely would mean accepting the reality of our breakup, which — spoiler alert — was exactly what I needed to do. Especially as a recovering codependent, I needed ample time and space from the person with whom I was enmeshed to rebuild a healthier sense of identity.
I broke the No Contact rule one time. I’d learned of a school shooting while sitting in the waiting room at my doctor’s office and, feeling the weight of my own mortality, felt compelled to reach out to my ex. I wrote a sentimental email reiterating my ongoing affection and expressing how challenging the preceding weeks had been.
I regretted this correspondence immediately after I hit send. The incessant chatter that had characterized my first post-breakup weeks rose up again with full force: I wonder when he’ll reply. I wonder what he’ll say. Does he hate me? Does he miss me? Does he still care about me?
In the hours between my email and his response, I could think of nothing else. When he did reply, his words were kind and appropriately distant.
It was crushing. Our exchange affirmed that things between us were irreconcilably changed. A simple email was the deepest connection I could ever hope to have with him again, and the pain of that truth stayed with me for days. Like Elliott warned: it stalled my healing.
Spare yourself the unavoidable grief and pain of reliving your breakup. Block your ex from all of your social media accounts and do not contact them, under any circumstances, for any reason, ever.
6. Prioritize Your Creature Comforts
My breakup severed my interest in big goals and long-term plans. I had spent the last two and a half years dreaming with my partner in mind: where we might move, how our careers might overlap, whether we might have children — etc. etc. By necessity, my post-breakup priorities were much simpler. How will I get through this day? How can I avoid falling apart?
Seen through the lens of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, my lack of direction made complete sense. I couldn’t strive for self-actualization — which Maslow defines as “the full use and exploitation of talents, capabilities, potentialities, etc.” — until I had regained confidence in my basic physiological needs (food, water) and security needs (safety, health and wellness, financial security).
For many of us, reestablishing this simple baseline of security after a breakup requires great effort. Our bodies react to traumatic breakups the same way they might react to physical pain. After my breakup, my heart raced for eight days straight. For weeks, I didn’t sleep more than six hours a night and couldn’t stomach full meals. I had 2–3 panic attacks each week and experienced a smattering of derealization episodes. It the wake of the breakup, I needed to demonstrate to my harried nervous system that I was, in fact, safe and secure.
And so, I gave myself permission to have one simple priority: to offer myself the greatest possible comfort. Every night, I brewed a mug of Kava tea before bed and breathed the steam deep into my lungs. I buried myself in layers: long johns, sweaters, sweatpants, wool socks. The weight on my body calmed me down and made me feel safer, similar to the way a weighted blanket might. I indulged in long, hot showers and massaged calming lavender oils into my skin.
You might be thinking: Hot showers? Sweat pants? How in the world will this ease my pain? How can these insignificant steps help me heal?
Your comforts will be different, of course. But here’s the thing: as codependents, we’ve been detached from our own desires for a long time. Maybe years, or even decades. After a breakup, we no longer have the illusion of being in touch with “our needs,” which were likely our partner’s needs. In this phase, we are archaeologists, excavating our true desires from beneath layers of repression and people-pleasing.
So give yourself permission to start small with this idea of what learning what you want. You might not yet know what you want out of your career, but you do know you love strolling around the lake in the morning. You may not yet know which city you want to relocate to, but you do know you’d like to take a mid-afternoon power nap.
These wants originate from your innermost self. Give that innermost self some time and encouragement to surface. By pursuing these small desires, you learn to trust yourself. You begin to realize that you are fully capable of being your own advocate and building the life you want.
Pay special attention to how it feels to meet your needs. Be patient. Don’t rush. This is a monumental step on the road to healing and recovery.
7. Create a Morning and Bedtime Ritual
After my breakup, I moved into a new home in a new part of town, bought new furniture, and slept alone for the first time in two and a half years. Typically cheerful and optimistic, I was grieving, confused, and displaced.
When you’ve experienced emotional trauma, routine is essential for reestablishing your sense of stability. Particularly if you co-habitated with your ex, it’s likely that the majority of your pre-breakup routines included them. As you adjust to this new phase of your journey, stabilize yourself by creating new routines focused on your own self-care.
My morning and bedtime rituals grounded me, bookended each day with creature comforts, and relieved me of the burden of decision-making.
Keep your rituals simple. Each of mine contained five simple steps:
My morning ritual
Make my bed. Plush pillows and blankets abound. My bed would be ready for a midday nap if I needed it.
Brew a hot cup of coffee. Coffee was my preferred vice in those post-breakup days. Heavy on the cream and sugar.
Sit on the porch and journal for an hour. Weather permitting, journaling on the porch gave me my daily dose of Vitamin D and the simple joy of watching little kiddos walk to school in the morning.
30-minute meditation. More on this in the next section.
Make a breakfast smoothie. After my breakup, it was really, really hard for me to stomach full meals. My breakfast smoothies gave my body the calories it desperately needed and it was easy and quick to eat.
My bedtime ritual
Don my coziest sleeping clothes. My favorite sleep outfit included a t-shirt, two layered XL men’s sweaters, a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy socks.
Declutter my room.
Put lavender oil in my essential oil diffuser. Scientists have proven that lavender can be as effective as soothing anxiety symptoms as Xanax, Valium, and Prozac. Even now, nearly two years later, the scent of lavender reminds me of the self-compassion of those post-breakup days.
Write three things I’m grateful for on a Post-It note. What first struck me as a contrived self-help practice became a staple of my healing journey. Writing a miniature gratitude list kept everything in perspective. Even on the hardest days, there were highs alongside my lows.
Read a chapter from a book. Check out Practice #2 for my list of recommended reads.
8. Meditate
After a breakup, the thought of sitting in silence and feeling your feelings might sound unbearable. But meditation has been proven to help grieving individuals intercept and manage their pain in a calm and structured manner.
Dr. Melanie Greenberg writes that, after a breakup, the person who has been left “cycles through periods of avoiding the emotional pain and being able to distract herself, and periods of being flooded by intense feelings and obsessive thoughts.”
I can relate. After my breakup, my moods were erratic. One moment I’d be laughing with a friend over coffee; the next, I’d be sobbing in the bathroom stall. Meditation was a way to regulate my emotions. It helped me find moments of solace throughout an otherwise turbulent day. Meditation became my daily reassurance that even my most intense emotions were ephemeral.
Of all the meditations I tried — and there were many! — I recommend Tara Brach’s RAIN meditation. Designed to help people address feelings of insecurity and unworthiness, RAIN breaks the process down into four simple steps:
Recognize what is happening;
Allow the experience to be there, just as it is;
Investigate with interest and care;
Nurture with self-compassion.
For the codependent person, recognizing and allowing our feelings is a radical act. We have spent years jumping headfirst into others’ inner worlds in an attempt to avoid feeling our own feelings.
As such, tuning in to our own emotions may feel unfamiliar and scary. This is perfectly normal. As my sponsor lovingly reminds me: “You’re right where you’re supposed to be.” We are rediscovering ourselves. Our feelings are the foundation of the people we’re becoming.
9. Attend Structured Spiritual Gatherings Where You Can Be Anonymous If You’d Like
As I mentioned in an earlier passage, codependents experience the loneliness following a breakup existentially and spiritually. We have spent months — years — enmeshed with our partners. In some ways, our relationships became our religion. In their wake, we may feel cosmically untethered.
After my breakup, I craved meaning and purpose beyond the limited scope of my world. I also needed a new framework for living. All my life, my modus operandi had been a combination of “Work hard!” and “You can do anything you set your mind to!” Control and micromanagement were my goonies on each shoulder, cheering me on through every pursuit.
My breakup was a shattering demonstration of the fact that there were many things I could not control — namely, others. I couldn’t make my ex love me. I couldn’t inspire him to “try one more time.” I couldn’t “work hard enough” to rebuild our broken relationship. I was totally powerless over him, which is the foundational awakening of codependency recovery.
I needed a new paradigm. Given what I’d experienced, I found myself drawn to the messages of impermanence and surrender underlying Buddhist thought. And so, four weeks after my breakup, I bravely boarded the bus to Harvard Square to attend a meditation gathering.
On this particular sunny September evening, my grief was wide and disembodied. The bus dropped me off a block away from my destination. All I had to do was cross a wide, grassy park, and I’d be there. And I swear — I couldn’t make it across the park. Golden leaves danced down from the trees and happy families meandered the park’s perimeter, laughing all the way. I was enraged by this juxtaposition: my black grief alongside this cheerful autumn night. I knelt down in the grass and cried.
I attribute my attendance that evening entirely to Boston’s shitty bus system and the fact that the next bus home wouldn’t come for 45 minutes. I finally tiptoed into the meditation hall, hood pulled low over my hair and face blotchy, and sat in the back row. I didn’t speak to anyone for the full 60 minutes. I did notice, though, that I wasn’t the only attendee with glassy eyes. The gathering was a smattering of humans across all ages, races, and emotional states. I wondered at this strange combination of people and the mysterious array of experiences that had led us here.
That night, the instructor led us through a practice that quieted our minds and helped us identify whatever we were feeling — joy, sorrow, anxiety, fear — in our bodies. After 45 minutes of sitting in silence, we were encouraged to share a bit about our experiences. I listened in silence, digesting little of what was said.
Despite having spoken with no one, I left that night feeling slightly less alone and slightly lighter. I came back the next week. And the following. And the following.
Unlike social gatherings, spiritual gatherings — like meditation circles, 12-Step meetings, church, temple, and dharma talks — have no expectation that attendees be in good spirits. You are encouraged to show up exactly as you are. These environments actively hold space for the raw potency of grief. You can stroll in as I did, eyes bloodshot with tears, and be held by the warm comfort of the community.
Though I understand — mind, body, and soul — the desire to self-isolate and curl up with ice cream and Netflix, don’t fall into that as a solution. Spiritual gatherings will broaden your perspective and give you hope and strength to carry on. They are worth the effort.
10. Document Good Moments
About a month after my breakup, my sweet friends ignored my pleas for solitude, dressed me in flattering clothes, and dragged me to an outdoor concert.
It was a quintessential late-summer affair with all of the requisite parts: abundant fireflies, food on the grill, a blazing campfire. There were hour-long periods where I didn’t think about my ex at all. When my friend dropped me off at home, I realized with a start that I felt genuinely happy for the first time in weeks. That moment was proof that happiness was possible without my ex.
I wanted to be able to remember the way I felt in that moment in the days and weeks that followed. I rushed to my bedroom, sat cross-legged in front of the mirror, and took a five-minute video on my iPhone that documented the evening in all its color.
I still have that video. My hair is windswept, my cheeks are sunburnt, and I’m smiling. I look directly into the camera and say:
“If you’re watching this, you’re probably having a really hard time. I’m making this video because I want to remind you of a couple of things.
You need to believe that deep feelings of satisfaction can come to you. Right now, I feel complete. I feel free. I feel open. In this moment, I’m able to acknowledge my faults while also seeing that my breakup wasn’t my fault.
I love you. You can do this. These moments await you. They appear when you focus on yourself, when you don’t get too in your head, and you spend time in environments that nourish you — even if you don’t feel like it. Do it. It will help.
Right now, this happiness is so freeing and so beyond what I ever felt in my relationship. There is such a degree of self-actualization and clarity to it. It’s beautiful. I feel alive.”
In the months that followed, I watched that video upwards of 30 times. When I got swept away by pain and needed some relief — some sliver of hope that this wouldn’t last forever — I watched that video with the same urgency a castaway might grasp for water.
Document your good moments using any medium available to you. I preferred video because I could see the joy in my face and earnestness behind my eyes. In this way, you build yourself a customized toolkit that will lift you out of dark moments.
11. Work One-on-One With a Therapist and/or a Coach
I’m a huge fan of DIY healing. All of the methods expressed so far this article are empowering ways to take the reins in your own recovery.
However, you don’t have to heal from heartbreak on your own. As a recovering codependent, a breakup may reflect deeply-entrenched patterns that have directed your behavior for years. Experienced professionals can help guide you through your healing process and support you in the work of codependency recovery.
After my breakup, I sought support from both therapists and coaches. Each benefited me in distinct ways.
The benefits of therapy
Therapy was great for addressing the four P’s: problems, patterns, past, and pathology. It helped me understand the origins of my codependency and gave me the chance to notice how it manifested in my relationships, romantic and beyond. Certain forms of therapy, like DBT or dialectical behavioral therapy, offer concrete tools for mindfulness, distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness. After my breakup, I benefited from therapy by:
Understanding how my family of origin impacted my codependency
Unpacking how my partner and I activated each other’s attachment systems
Unlearning unhealthy expectations of my romantic relationships
Identifying and creating a treatment plan for my anxiety
The benefits of coaching
Coaching is a future-focused, solution-oriented practice. It helped me clarify my vision for the future and determine specific action steps to get there. The coach/client relationship kept me accountable to my goals and celebrated my progress along the way. After my breakup, I benefited from coaching by:
Realizing and actualizing my dreams to begin a new career and move across the country
Creating a balance between different areas of my life, including romantic relationships, family, friends, health, work, and play
Establishing new daily habits related to mindfulness and wellness
Crafting healthy visions and expectations for future romantic partnerships
Years Later
It has been years since that breakup. Strangely, I look back on those post-breakup months as the most peaceful time of my life. Never before had I given myself permission to prioritize my own needs so completely, or let go of the illusion of control so absolutely. There was something deeply spiritual about that time.
Though it was mightily painful, I look back on it fondly. Writing this piece has given me the opportunity to remember the emotional breadth of that experience and acknowledge how far I’ve come since then.
This list of tools is not exhaustive. I encourage you to customize your healing journey and cherry-pick the methods that best serve you.
Surviving my breakup — and thriving thereafter — taught me that I was stronger and more resilient than I’d ever realized. It fueled a fantastic healing journey that continues to this day. In the years since, I’ve moved across the country, begun a new career, and been part of healthy romantic relationships in which I’ve set clear boundaries and spoken my truth.
Take it from someone who has been right where you are: It gets so much better. I promise.
