“Hi!! My name is Emma and I was in a relationship with someone my senior year of high school and we did not date but we were exclusive to each other and we knew we were never gonna be together after prom because he was going to the army and I was moving to Florida for college, the way he ended things was very bad. He texted me how it’s going to hurt him more if we keep talking the way we do and I always had resentment for him after that. it’s been seven months since we spoken and I’m done with college for my first year and he is back home for break until he goes to Alaska and we are from New York. he texted me to hang out before he left and we hung out and it was good, but I just felt like I still have feelings, but I always buried them inside and I feel like he does not feel the same way. i’m confused on why he wanted to hang out all we did was talk and watch a movie and kiss no sex. when we say goodbye to each other, he said I hope we see each other in the future and I don’t know how to feel about that and I was very sad and I’m also very confused because we were never sexually intimate while we were together in high school and he said it’s because he knew he was gonna get attached but I feel like it’s a lie as well. I’m just mixed with a lot of emotions right now. I don’t know how to feel. after we hung out, we haven’t spoken since.”

Hi Emma! You were in a relationship-that-wasn’t-a-relationship-but-totally-was. Exclusive, emotionally deep, and headed for an expiration date you both saw coming, but unfortunately didn’t make the fall any softer. The problem with “we both knew it was ending” is that knowing something doesn’t mean your heart was prepared for it.

Then he ended things with a classic “this hurts me more than it hurts you” breakup text. Translation? “I’m overwhelmed and don’t want to deal with this, so I’m making myself the victim so you don’t question it.” You had every right to hold resentment. He didn’t give you closure, he gave you a riddle.

Fast forward seven months. You just finished your first year of college (congrats by the way!), you’re back home, and he pops up again. You hang out, and suddenly all those buried feelings come crawling back out of their emotional grave. That’s normal. When something ends in a haze of almosts, your heart holds onto the “what if.” Then he kisses you, tosses out a vague “hope we see each other again,” and fades back into the distance.

You asked why you still care. I’ll tell you why. You didn’t just like him, you saw the potential of what could’ve been. The version of him that cared, the one who said he’d get attached if you slept together. And maybe that was true. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he would get super attached. But scared people don’t get to keep you half-loved while they figure it out.

He reopened the wound, poked around, and left again. And now you’re left wondering what it meant and why it still hurts. But this isn’t just about him. This is about you. About the version of you who cared for him. Who hoped it would be different. Who still remembers how close it almost came to being something more. You’re not confused, you’re grieving, and you’re grieving the potential of what could’ve been, alongside the version of you that wanted more. And here’s where you are in that process: you’ve passed denial because you know he’s not coming back in any real way. You’re between sadness and acceptance, with a little bargaining mixed in. That little voice that says “maybe if he reached out again, it would feel different this time.” That’s not love. That’s grief trying to rewrite the ending.

So here’s an action plan for you. Feel free to take and leave what feels best, because there will be someone who doesn’t need to pull and push at your feelings to make you feel something.

First, identify what you hoped for. Not just from him, but from that whole chapter. What did you want to feel? Safe? Chosen? Desired? All of the above? Write it down. That’s your real desire hiding underneath your feelings, not him. Second, replace him. Every time he crosses your mind, do one thing, however small, that brings you back to you. Text a friend. Get fresh air. Add a song to your playlist. Work on your Pinterest board. Show your nervous system something new is coming.

Third, build closure through behavior. Unfollow if it helps. And don’t give meaning to crumbs. As a born over-thinker, I understand giving every word, text, and picture meaning. But we have to come back to this: if he wanted to be in your life, he’d be here. Let that be enough. And finally, declare the lesson. Not “he was a mistake,” but “this showed me what I need in love moving forward.” Because it did.

Love, Bella

P.S. You weren’t too much. He was too unequipped. There’s a difference, and it matters.

–Kate

Hi Kate,

I’ll tell you why you’re attached. But first, I’ll tell you a story.

Freshman year, I met a guy who told me, more than once, that he couldn’t be the man I needed and wasn’t ready for a relationship. Doe-eyed and craving affection, I stayed. And I’ll be honest, I knew I was out of his league. I figured he’d grow. I figured he’d realize I was good for him. I treated him well, showed up for him, even helped him emotionally. What I didn’t realize was that underneath all of that, I was clinging to the feeling. I needed his attention, his affection, the comfort. And the worst part? He told me exactly how it would end. And he was right.

I’m telling you this because you’re not alone. You’re not foolish. You just had hope. And when the connection feels strong but the relationship never forms, it creates this confusing limbo that’s hard to step out of. I’ve been there. So many of us have. And me and you both know you deserve better. So let’s talk about why this still hurts.

You said the key words: He’s an avoidant. Which tells me you’re aware he’s not communicating his feelings, nor delivering the needs of yours. You’ve also been telling him to change, which tells me the dynamic consists of you voicing your needs, him not meeting them, and you trying to “fix” the situation or him. But that isn’t love. It’s labor. And love isn’t supposed to exhaust you.

You also know he isn’t the man for you. Not just because he said it, but because of how he shows up. The moments where he goes silent, when your needs get pushed aside, when he disappears just long enough for you to question everything. And then, right as you start to find your footing, he pops back in. That’s not clarity. That’s confusion disguised as comfort.

And I’m not going to tell you to block him. That’s not always the solution. You don’t need to cut him off. You just need to come back to you. You don’t need to make a dramatic exit to reclaim your peace. You just need to start choosing yourself more often. Your energy, your affection, and your presence are gifts. Reread that. And they don’t belong in hands that don’t know how to hold them, no matter the reason why.

Here’s what tends to happen if you stay in the loop. You’ll keep talking. You’ll keep hoping. He’ll say the right things. Maybe even treat you like a girlfriend without calling you one. And yes, it’ll feel good… until it doesn’t. Until you remember you still don’t have a title. Still don’t have security. Still don’t feel chosen. Still in a relationship for years and he isn’t serving up to your needs without a fight or confrontation. And you’ll wonder if you’re asking for too much when really, you’re asking for the bare minimum.

And none of this makes you unworthy. It makes you human. You’re not “too much” or “not enough.” You’re just someone who’s been giving more than they’ve been getting. And if that dynamic hasn’t changed yet, it won’t.

So is he manipulating you or does he like you? Both. He probably likes you. Likes your heart, spending time with you, the affection you give him. And he may be unintentionally pulling you along. But if he hasn’t done the work to show up in love, he’s not going to magically wake up ready. Even if he’s kind. Even if he says he cares. Saying “you deserve better” isn’t the same as being better. Sometimes people give you just enough to keep you close, but never enough to make you feel secure. And that’s not love. That’s games. And intentional or not, it’s manipulation.

I know it’s tempting to wonder what’s stopping him. I know you’ve thought of it all: Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he’s been hurt. Maybe it’s something deep he hasn’t healed yet. And maybe it is. But unless heis the one asking those questions, it’s not your job to answer them for him. And you should be in a relationship with someone who does answer those questions, without you having to even ask. And holding out hope for a relationship that won’t be ready when you get in it, because he won’t do the work now, is only time spent losing yourself in the process.

So why are you attached to someone you never dated?

Because you cared. Because you felt something real. You built a story around the version of him that showed up when things felt good. You saw potential. You hoped for more. And when you care deeply, even an almost can leave a real mark.

But now, it’s time to return to you. Because quite honestly, no amount of love or likeness is enough to make someone treat you differently.

And if you’re wondering how to actually close the door, start small. Archive the messages so you’re not tempted to reread them. Mute him if you don’t want to block him. When the thoughts come up, remind yourself: if he wanted to be here, he would be. It doesn’t have to be cold or sudden. It just has to be consistent.

You can miss him and still move forward. You can care about him and still close the door. You can maintain boundaries and not put his desires before yours. You don’t need his permission to let go.

And if he reaches out again? You don’t have to react. You’ll already know he’s not trying to build something new. He’s just making sure the door is still open. And you are learning how to lock the door without hating what’s behind it.

With much love,

Bella

There was pain, yes, but there was also a finality: a quiet goodbye that allowed me to grieve, to make peace with her absence. It felt like a new way of having her in my life: a softer, more distant version of her presence. As hard as it was, I knew that grief would come in cycles: when I see her favorite coffee shop, when I want someone to do my nails with, and of course, every holiday and accomplishment.

But with my dad, it’s been different. As my only parent left, it was almost forceful to become best friends. He was the one I could talk to about anything, the one I turned to when I needed advice or just someone who understood me. But what I failed to address were the years of absence, arguments, and resentment. Before I knew it, his priorities shifted, though I didn’t want to see it at first. Unfortunately, these changes began loooong before I could fully accept them.

Looking back, I realize how much I tried to ignore the truth. I forgave him over and over again for being absent in ways that mattered most, for neglecting our bond when it wasn’t convenient for him. I pushed it all down until I couldn’t anymore. Now, it feels like I’ve lost him. I no longer feel like his daughter, and that sense of belonging, of being his little girl, is gone.

A few days ago, I woke up with one of his old songs stuck in my head. It’s funny how memories have a way of resurfacing when you least expect it. The same two lines played on repeat, as if they were trying to tell me something:

“Live life and don’t be scared, just beware,
‘Cause it’s a jungle out there.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was a sign, I thought, a way of reconnecting. Or maybe it was just a reminder to keep going, even in the silence between us. But the urge to call him didn’t come without hesitation. Deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. It’s not that a phone call would solve everything.

*Since writing this, I have reconnected with my Dad. Our reconnection is continued below.

Still, I decided to try. For months, I had avoided it, telling myself it was useless, that the father I remembered was gone. But something urged me to call, and intuitively, I did.

The call was hard. At first, it felt like talking to a stranger, with polite pauses and shallow conversation. But slowly, cracks appeared in the distance. It wasn’t the deep, effortless connection we once had, but it was a start.

After exchanging ‘I missed you’s’ and hearing his apologies, I realized he may have been different, but he was still here. And for the first time in months, I felt like maybe I could rebuild, even if it wouldn’t look like it used to.

The phone call quickly revealed the effects of absence. He didn’t know about my work life, my current relationships, and I barely knew of his. It felt like talking to a stranger who read a book on your life.

A few days later, I decided to call again. At the core of our closeness were updates: updates on what I did today, how my grades have been, what the latest gossip was. But the next conversation strayed much further from simple updates, it was instead a scene of retrospection. He addressed the lingering fact that we had to discuss the past. He believed it was necessary to move on. And as I agreed to a certain extent, part of me just wanted my Dad back.

I didn’t want to recollect the past several years. That can be done at anytime; it will be done at sometime. But while I had him, I wanted the simplicity of calling my Dad when I got a new job offer, when I needed his advice, when I read a new article and wanted his take on it. But it was obvious he wanted to tear down the wall before moving forward, and I just wanted to climb over it.

So we addressed some issues. And within there was the brutal honesty of telling him how I had felt — about the absence, the hurt, the grief of losing him while he was still alive.: not only within the months of not speaking, but sprinkled within the years after Mom died.

It wasn’t a magic fix. One conversation couldn’t erase years of distance. But it was the beginning of something new. I realized that while I was grieving the father he used to be, I also needed to make space for the man he had become.

Sometimes we grieve not for a person’s death, but for their disappearance from our lives while they’re still alive. I still believe that. But now, I also know that grief can evolve into something else. It can soften, change shape, and make room for new beginnings.

The father who used to write songs for his children, who was my confidant and my best friend; that man is still gone in some ways. But the man who heard me that day, who picked up the phone, is someone I’m learning to love in a different way. It’s not the relationship we once had, but it’s something. And I’ve realized that something is enough.

Writing this is difficult. I’ve hesitated to share this part of my life because airing family matters is uncomfortable. There’s always a fear of judgment, or of feeling like I’m betraying someone by speaking out. But this is my story, and as uncomfortable as it may be, I know that stories only truly affect those who see their own reflection in them. Some will relate to this and feel understood; others may not. But for me, writing this is a way of finding my own healing.

Grieving someone still alive is a unique and complicated sorrow. It’s not like grieving death, where there’s an endpoint, a place to find closure. It’s about living with a constant ache, accepting that the person you loved has changed in ways you can’t undo. But it’s also about realizing that loss doesn’t have to be the end. Sometimes, it can be a new beginning.

However, Sabrina’s recent public relationship with Barry Keoghan sparked controversy, reminding us of the delicate balance between personal and public life. As women striving for ambition and success, we often encounter similar dilemmas: When and how should we share the things that matter most to us, especially our relationships?

The Pressure of Public Sharing

In today’s social media-driven world, the pressure to share our lives online is immense. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok encourage us to showcase our achievements, adventures, and relationships. Yet, this can lead to a constant internal debate: Should we share more about our personal lives?

Sharing significant aspects of our lives can be empowering, but it also opens the door to judgment and unsolicited opinions. When it comes to relationships, this can be particularly challenging. Will people judge us or our partners? What if our exes have something to say? Do we want our partners to post about us? These questions can be daunting.

Embracing Privacy and Self-Love

Sabrina’s experience highlights a common fear many of us share: the fear of judgment and the potential for an “I told you so” moment if things don’t work out. This fear can make us hesitant to share our joy and successes with the world. But it’s important to remember that living authentically and confidently often means embracing vulnerability.

When Sabrina announced her relationship, she faced criticism, especially concerning her boyfriend’s past. This situation is relatable to many of us. We all have relationships—platonic or romantic—that attract opinions from others. The key takeaway here is to focus on what brings us joy and fulfillment.

Living Your Truth

Taking a page from Sabrina’s book, it’s crucial to live your truth unapologetically. Yes, you might face judgment, but those who genuinely care about you will support and understand you. Sharing your life, whether it’s a new relationship, a personal achievement, or a fresh start, should be about celebrating your journey, not fearing criticism.

Privacy is a form of self-love and protection. It’s okay to keep some parts of your life private, just as you wouldn’t disclose the location of your most treasured possessions. Cherish your privacy and share only what you feel comfortable with.

The Challenge of Public Relationships

Sabrina Carpenter’s relationship with Barry Keoghan became a hot topic not just because of her celebrity status but also due to the public’s interest with her personal life. The scrutiny intensified because Barry’s ex-girlfriend, Alyson Kierans, who looks somewhat similar to Sabrina, is the mother of his child. This led to questions and criticisms about his intentions and commitment.

This situation underscores a common dilemma: navigating the public’s reaction to our private lives. Many of us have faced similar situations where our relationships are subject to public scrutiny, even if that public is just our social media followers. The decision to share a new relationship, a personal achievement, or a significant life change is always fraught with the potential for judgment.

Celebrating Your Journey

Regardless of the opinions of others, it’s crucial to celebrate your journey. Sabrina’s approach to living her life openly, despite the noise, is inspiring. It serves as a reminder that our lives are our own, and the decisions we make should be based on what brings us happiness and fulfillment, not on the fear of judgment.

Embrace the confidence to live your life openly and authentically. Be inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s boldness, and remember that your life is yours to live. Whether you choose to share your milestones or keep them private, do so with confidence and self-love. Your journey is unique and beautiful, and the right people will celebrate it with you.

Living with confidence and self-love means honoring your journey and making choices that align with your true self. So go ahead, embrace your moments, and let your light shine, just like Sabrina Carpenter does.

Take Time

Amidst the flurry of events and gatherings, don’t forget to prioritize yourself. Take time for yourself, whether it’s indulging in your favorite book, going for a walk, or practicing meditation. Recognize that it’s okay to take a step back and recharge when needed.

Set Realistic Expectations

The holidays often come with high expectations, but it’s essential to set realistic ones. Understand that you can’t be in multiple places at once or meet everyone’s expectations. Prioritize events and commitments based on what aligns best with your well-being.

Say No

It’s okay to decline invitations or requests politely. You don’t have to overextend yourself to please others. Saying no doesn’t mean you don’t care; it means you’re valuing your mental and emotional health.

Say No… to Your Phone

With technology at our fingertips, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by constant communication. Set boundaries on when and how you engage with technology, including choosing who you allow to blow up your phone and knowing when it’s time to stop comparing your holidays to everyone else’s. Allowing yourself uninterrupted moments can help you relax and engage with those physically present.

Seek Support

If you find it challenging to maintain boundaries or feel overwhelmed, seek support. Reach out to friends, family, or a therapist who can offer guidance and understanding. Having someone to talk to can make a significant difference.

Reflect

After the holidays, take time to reflect on what worked and what didn’t regarding your boundaries. Use this reflection to adjust and improve strategies for future celebrations.

Remember, setting boundaries isn’t selfish; it’s an act of self-care and self-respect. By maintaining healthy boundaries, you’re nurturing your well-being and fostering stronger, more authentic relationships. This holiday season, prioritize yourself, communicate openly, and cherish the joyous moments while safeguarding your emotional space.

Conflict is a powerful mirror that reflects our inner selves. Within the midst of disagreements and clashes lies an opportunity for self-discovery.

Finding Our Triggers

When faced with opposition, we feel angry and defensive: These emotional reactions serve as signposts, directing us toward areas that require further exploration. By understanding the root of these reactions, we gain insight into unresolved issues and unexamined beliefs, and we usually find things that have subconsciously upset us over time.

Our Communication Patterns

Our communication tendencies become apparent during conflict. Are we quick to defend ourselves? Do we avoid confrontation altogether? Conflict shines a light on our communication strengths and weaknesses, helping us understand how we treat those with different beliefs and how we listen.

Realizing Assumptions and Biases

Conflict often arises from differing viewpoints and assumptions. Exploring these discrepancies encourages us to confront our biases and preconceptions. By questioning the origin of our beliefs and considering alternative perspectives, we become more open-minded and able to engage in constructive dialogue.

Our Big Ego

Conflict can act as a mirror reflecting our ego’s role in interactions. Are we driven by a need to be right? Do we resist compromise to protect our self-image? Do we feel prideful, or that our opinions and beliefs should top others just because? Recognizing these ego-driven tendencies allows us to choose whether we want to be led by our ego or respond with humility and understanding.

Testing Our Emotional Intelligence

Emotions are central to conflict, making it a prime arena to develop emotional intelligence. By recognizing and managing our emotions amidst disagreements, we enhance our ability to empathize with others, regulate our own reactions, and navigate emotionally charged situations.

Embracing conflict as a teacher offers a unique perspective on personal growth. By acknowledging conflict’s potential to illuminate our emotions, communication patterns, biases, and ego-driven responses, we embark on a transformative journey of self-discovery. As we navigate the landscape of our inner world through the lens of conflict, we cultivate resilience, compassion, and self-awareness. 

Remember this next time you have an argument or need to resolve a conflict. And since you’re friend is someone you care for and vice versa, take note of what is or has been bothering you, explain how it makes you feel, and politely offer a solution. It’s important to confront these things quickly and clearly, or else you’ll have a blowout from built up tension – and hopefully it doesn’t happen at a party either.

But as August approaches, and the responsibilities of school and work loom on the horizon, it becomes evident that it’s time to rekindle some other relationships.

One of the primary places where relationships need rekindling is the workplace. As we return to our offices and workspaces, there is a unique opportunity to reconnect with colleagues and forge stronger connections. Engage in team-building activities, initiate meaningful conversations, and be open to collaborating with fresh perspectives.

Similarly, as students head back to school, the excitement of reuniting with old friends and the prospect of making new ones are upon us. Reach out to classmates you haven’t spoken to in a while, join clubs or organizations that align with your interests, and be open to meet new people. Remember that learning isn’t just about academics; it’s also about understanding and connecting with others.

Beyond the realms of work and university, consider engaging in social activities that align with your interests and passions. Whether it’s joining a sports team, attending community events, or volunteering, be receptive to new experiences.

So this week, let the fading summer sun be a reminder that it’s time to rekindle the flames of relationships old and new, and embrace the connections that lie ahead.