Have you ever felt so broken that you know you’ll never be the same again? Maybe you feel that way now. Know this: here, after all the falling apart and right in the middle of not-knowing, you can breathe. You can make something new. That’s because even though you’re breaking, you’re unbreaking too.

This poem might make you feel better about it.

If you need more support today, get my free Healing Brave Manifesto to inspire how you carry on.

When my brother died (8 years ago) it sparked a revolution in my heart. Foundation fell away, world rearranged... and what showed up instead was a new way of being.

The brokenness revealed the me I'd always wanted to be. Someone who makes things that matter, who writes to breathe, who tries whatever it takes to heal forward.

I'm grateful not for the death of my brother, but for the death of who I was trying to be, who I never felt good being.

And so I walk with that, toward that.

And so tragedy can be a return home, albeit a new one.

You’re Unbreaking, Too

Losing it all set me free. I crawled from what I hated, swam

toward what felt like me -- home, but new, but old too.

Toward what I always wanted to do: create something new.

Unlearning how to be who I never was.

Learning how to be me. Somehow, reborn.

Learning to breathe through and be okay with

how unfathomable it all is.

This is what I heard:

You are not a statue, made of stone.

It feels like you’re breaking but that’s not

absolutely so. You’re reaching into the depths,

laying things to rest.

You’re together fluid and rooted, connected and free.

These are the things you’re learning to be.

And with that learning comes all that you’re unlearning.

You set new boundaries to weed out what feels wrong.

You start questioning the thoughts that tell you

you’re wrong. You stop saying yes. You start saying,

“let me check my values first.”

You go back to heart, the heart you strayed from

for so long.

So you say you’re broken? Yes and no.

For with your breaking comes your unbreaking.

There in that space, between sense and places,

you might just see it:

the you you’re becoming is home, too.

. . .

What from this did you most need to read today?

Tell me in the comments. I read every single one, and I’d love to know!

Love,

Jen

P.S. And if you need more light as you walk toward whatever’s waiting for you, get this poetry print. It’ll be there for the trip, for the you you’re getting back to.