In the quiet aftermath of a love that once burned bright, they come with furrowed brows and curious eyes, all echoing the same inquiry. “Do you regret it? Do you regret loving him?” The question hangs in the air, a specter of the past that seeks to weigh down the heart.

Yet, in the stillness of reflection, my answer is a resolute whisper, a declaration of strength born from the ashes of a bygone flame. “I will never regret loving him,” for in the act of giving my heart, I discovered my boundless capacity to feel, to endure, to hope.

It was in the unraveling, the delicate process of learning how to un-love him, that I found the most profound of truths. Each thread of affection untied revealed a piece of myself long forgotten, a fragment of my soul that needed reclaiming.

And so, with each step away from what was, I journeyed closer to the core of my being. “Because learning how to un-love him taught me how to love myself.” In the solitude of my own company, I uncovered the depths of my own worth, the beauty of self-respect, and the power of self-compassion.

No, I shall never harbor regret for a chapter that sculpted me into the person I am today. For it is through the act of letting go that we truly grasp the essence of who we are, and in the art of self-love, we find the greatest love of all.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer

Dry Pastel Yansã by Beatriz Esmer