The Key to Letting Go of Your Ex: Love Them More


“The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are of loving in the present.” ~Barbara De Angelis

My first love broke my heart into microscopic little pieces. I honestly didn’t think I’d survive. Losing him was like losing a limb. I couldn’t function.

Yet, by the time that he and I had parted ways, our connection was already severed, bleeding, broken—hanging on by threads we both imagined were there.

When we met, we were idealistic, open-hearted, trusting teenagers. Three years later, we were both addicts, self-harming in our own ways, and both in the habit of using words—those words first uttered in times of gentle intimacy—like weapons against each other. We were at war—with each other and with ourselves.

Together, we had become the worst versions of ourselves. But this is what made it so much harder to let go. Sure, we were sick, mentally and emotionally, but we were sick together.

I kept thinking I was “over him” until, three years later, I realized I hadn’t thought about him for a whole week. Until then, I thought of him multiple times a day, especially when I walked by places we had frequented together. The city around me was a minefield.

In those three years, I was with someone else. He was the polar opposite of my ex. I realize now that I subconsciously thought choosing someone I was incompatible with would protect me from future harm. Maybe it did. But it also kept me from passion and intimacy.

Maybe it sounds like my broken heart healed organically, naturally, over time. It didn’t. About a month before I finally stopped thinking about my ex every day, I had an epiphany.

I can’t remember what sparked it, but I remember exactly how I felt when I realized: He and I were not going to be together again. The only thing more shocking was my subsequent realization that I’d spent three years expecting that we would be!

I realized that he and I had done horrible things to each other and that, regardless of our initial connection, I didn’t want memories like that with someone. I didn’t want to remember my partner voicing all my worst self-judgments. I wanted someone to feel safe with. And we could never feel safe together.

Shortly after the dissolution of my second relationship, I had another epiphany: I was an addict. I smoked cigarettes. I drank too much. And I’d been using mind-altering substances in a way I thought was social, but was, truly, escapist and excessive.

It wasn’t until I rid myself of my other addictions, and faced the demons I had without those crutches, that I realized I didn’t really love my ex. I was addicted to him.

I thought I needed to learn to love again, but I didn’t. I had never truly loved. I got high on idealizing him, crafting him into this perfect savior who would save me from all my pain and all my insecurities. Then, I stewed in villainizing him, blaming him for tearing up my life, my innocence, my confidence. But he was just a human being, and I never saw that.

I did to him what I did to myself. I expected perfection, and when I realized it wasn’t coming, I poured hot, thick judgment all over everything. I couldn’t face my authentic, real, natural self, so I couldn’t face him that way either.

When I began to greet the woman in the mirror with open-minded, open-hearted acceptance of what was there, I suffered. I suffered because she wasn’t like TV, because she had flaws, because she would never be perfect. I suffered because I realized how much time I’d wasted trying to be perfect.

A time came when my reflection no longer triggered revulsion within me. That was my first experience of what I call “love.” I saw someone whose beauty surpassed the pictures on the magazines. I saw a woman who was beautiful because she was a raw, real, organic part of everything.

When I saw myself that way, I could see the rest of reality that way. I finally saw my ex that way—flaws and all, beautiful because he was a part of this interconnected moment. Beautiful because he was real, human, flawed, just like everyone else.

That was the first time I ever really loved him. I loved him that way where I wanted him to be happy, with or without me—that way I’d heard people talking about, but never understood what they meant.

When I finally loved him that way, I didn’t need him to be mine. I didn’t need him to be a part of my sad story anymore. He had his own story. He was more important than the role he’d played in my own, personal melodrama.

I realized that I had spent years craving love with all my being, and I had been translating those cravings into desires for my ex. I thought I was heartbroken about losing him, but I wasn’t. I was heartbroken about losing this “love” thing that I thought came from him.

But love didn’t come from him. Love came from me. It was always inside of me, this feeling of being connected to the world. I mentally hired him as the deliveryman of that feeling and suffered for years, because he wasn’t coming and bringing it.

I didn’t need to learn to love again. I needed to learn to love.

Now, I can experience the feeling of love when looking at a sunset. I can feel it while having a really good conversation with a friend. I feel it often while writing. I feel it sometimes in crowds of people.

I feel love in those places because I let myself feel it, because I’ve come to define love as an awareness of my connection to the world, and I allow that connection to take endless forms. Because of that, I’m no longer begging, pleading, desperately for people to love me, and I am not obsessing about past relationships lost.

Our relationships are just vessels for something bigger—for real love, for an awareness of our connection to life. Of course, each relationship is different, so we will experience that connection uniquely with each person, but we are experiencing connection all the same.

I have come to believe that heartbreak is an incredible opportunity. It’s a chance to observe the difference between true love and addiction.

It’s a chance to separate our desire for love from our expectations about where love comes from. Heartbreak is an opportunity to look at what we believe we’ve lost and realize that, maybe, we’ve never actually found it.

Maybe this seems counterintuitive, but if you’re trying to stop loving a person in order to get over them, try loving them more. Try loving them so much that you don’t need them to be yours. Try loving them so much that you see the real human being instead of just idealizations and villainizations.

Try loving yourself this way too.

Of course, it will still hurt, because pain is a part of loss. At best, you will have lost a relationship, and that is still painful. But if you allow yourself to lose a relationship without losing love—without losing your awareness of your connection to the world—then your healing process will open doors to profound self-discovery rather than suffering, and eventually, to a higher level of intimacy with others.

Learning to love showed me how much I have to give, and it’s more than I could have ever imagined. If, like me, you move onto another relationship after healing, your capacity for intimacy and connection will far surpass what you experienced in past relationships.

Like this, heartbreak can actually strengthen your future relationships—but only if you take that opportunity to look within yourself.

As Gangaji said, “let your heart break, for your breaking heart only reveals a core of love unbroken.”

About Vironika Tugaleva

Like every human being, Vironika Tugaleva is an ever-changing mystery. At the time of writing this, she was a life coach, digital nomad, and award-winning author of two books (The Love Mindset and The Art of Talking to Yourself). She spent her days writing, dancing, singing, running, doing yoga, going on adventures, and having long conversations. But that was then. Who knows what she’s doing now? Keep up at

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  • Ike Vazladelis

    Wow! Thank you for this. I was married for seven years, together for nine. My world was crushed when out of the blue she walked out. I went through a depression because we couldn’t have kids. For over three years trying to hate got me nowhere. I realise that it’s because I can’t hate her. Yes it will still hurt but as you say acknowledging the love sill there will make one realise that you can love them differently from far. Thank you!

  • Donnie

    Great article! Thanks!

  • Laura Murphy

    Wow, Vironika. This article really hit home (which normally happens with TB articles, but this one made me cry it was so real to me). While I don’t deal with substance or alcohol addictions, I have used them and food to numb feelings and done everything I can to avoid feeling the feelings, getting to the source and dealing with my issues.

    I’m curious to know what exactly you did when you faced the demons and greeted the woman you are with open-minded and open-hearted acceptance?

  • dee

    Whoa!! That blew my mind! I have to read it again in case I missed something. After you said you were addicted to him………I realized………that was my problem

  • bigdo

    Really needed to hear this…

    lol, I’m so fucked up right now.. I bury myself in cycling.. i think part of that is trying to avoid doing some of the things you describe.. maybe I’ll try them and feel better.. maybe not.

  • Jada Pearman

    Thank you.

  • Tee Teehee

    Good one, Vironika. You’re wise beyond your years.

  • Dean Montague

    thank you so much for this. i connected so much with your words. i still struggle to grasp the concept of how loving my ex more will not just make me want them more… but i will try. everything you wrote rang familiar to me. thank you.

  • justme

    34 minutes ago
    I have been alone for the majority of my 48 years. I dated, but didn’t find my “one”. I strongly believe that it’s better to be with nobody than to be with the wrong body. Having said that, I also believe that love and the people you love is the most important thing in life – and that life is better when shared with someone you love. I fell in love for the first time 10 months ago. It was amazing!!!! Unfortunately, she is just a year out of a 22 year marriage. We flirted and became very close, but never romantic. I knew she needed time to heal before she was ready for another relationship. Just days ago, it became apparent to me that she does not love me, she just likes the attention I give her – which is a lot! I finally got the strength to walk away because it would kill me to see her with someone else, and it was not fun loving without being loved. She wants to remain friends, but I can’t. I am heartbroken, rejected, and paralyzed. I can’t breathe. It took me 48 years to find her and I never felt more certain about anyone or anything. I do not think I will find that again given that it took me 48 years to find her. I was fine being alone before I met her, but now it sucks! I don’t know what to do.

  • Kathy M

    This is very well written and honest beyond belief..Thank you for sharing this. i enjoyed reading this because I could relate to all of it..I wish i had read this years ago.. I , too, am paralyzed after breaking away from someone who was a classic sociopath. i will look back at the experience as a complete mental/ physical mirage of nothingness. A complete waste of love, on both sides..and time Life is too short. Trust your who you when enough is that you will survive…you will..I will.
    let your heart break, for your breaking heart only reveals a core of LOVE unbroken”. Thanks

  • Lady L

    I’m so sorry about that. Well, it’s already been a year so I really hopw that you feel much better now. I’m here when you need a friend.

    Time heals all wounds. You may not totally forget her but it’ll get better and easier as time goes by.

    Learn to love yourself and you will attract love in return.

    Good luck in your life. God bless you.