Lifestyle: In Practice

I recently suffered one of the worst breakups of my life—a friend breakup. After years of support, the rug was pulled out from under me. I had to make my life worth waking up to without part of my support system. I dispose of everything tied to them, donate it to mark the end. I create a playlist, cry, then delete it. I reclaim my space, invest in my future, and go on solo dates. And in writing a goodbye letter, I release the pain and learn from it.

It started in the quiet — a song, a memory, a flash of what I thought was love. Mr. 32 came when I was raw and still bleeding from the past. He had charm, money, and a girlfriend. I had trauma, softness, and a need to be saved. What unfolded between us left me with more than heartbreak. It left me with Amelia — a name, a memory, a maybe. In the aftermath, I didn’t just heal. I transformed. This is an apology to the girl I was, the girl who carried grief and grace at once, the