P  S  Y  C  H  O  L  O  G  Y
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H A V I N G    M Y    H E A R T

B R O K E N 

By Demetra Demi Gregorakis, medium.com
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7  APRIL, 2016
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You can only correct or heal what 
you are ready to acknowledge, 
accept and release.
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You can only correct or heal what you are ready to acknowledge, accept and release.I want you to know that whoever broke you, whatever cruel person who couldn’t gently put your heart back together, is just a coward.

Having my heart broken was the best thing that happened to me. I lost myself.
I want to make beautiful things, even if nobody cares. You have to have this indescribable passion in your gut. It’s crying and punching, trying to be heard and seen but constantly being told, “You’re not good enough” and “It’ll never happen.”

I want to add meaning.

I look in New York crowds, and it scares me. I hate seeing the monotony of people walking back and forth and the facial expressions of people looking so dismayed.
In the grand scheme of things, I thought I didn’t add a lot to this world, that I was just another face to be seen: a girl with curly hair and big blue eyes.I draw a line, connecting all the people I’ve met to me.

The line is very long; it intertwines and adds name after name.

Would someone really miss me if I weren’t here? Would lives be affected? Stories changed? Would my mom be able to wake up morning, after morning? Would the kid I sat next to in my lecture notice? Would my dad drink his pain away? Would the boy I loved regret telling me I’m nothing when I’m no longer here?

I have this thirst. I want to change my story, and I want people to feel at home when they look at me. I used to think I wanted to find a boy who would whisk me away to a castle on a white horse, and we’d live happily ever after. But when I did find that boy, he tore up my heart, threw it in the air like confetti and puffed out his chest because he thought he was a man for pressing “end” on a phone call. I knew that would be a part of my history, but not my whole story.

No longer did I want to be the girl who found love, but who gave it.I want people to know my name and associate it with herself and her accomplishments, who had someone say: “because of you I didn’t give up”.

My history will be a human who brings back faith and hope to a world who celebrates anger, lies, and sadness. This isn’t a piece of bashing love this is me about being a life. I’m healthy, ability to make movements, move mountains and I’m going to stand here and write you about heartbreak? Yeah, it broke, but I fixed it. It just means that bigger things are meant for me.

I can’t thank him enough for leaving me behind because I was ready to give him everything.It just means bigger things are meant for me. My scar is nothing to be seen, and I’m going to mark this world with the love he didn’t want. I’m going to give it to the moon, the stars, and the universe. He will never fully realize what it was like to feel my broken spirit. I won’t say broken heart anymore because it’s too cliché, and it was more than that which had broken. But even though he will never know what it was like to put myself back together every day, he will also never know the woman I have become.
There are moments that stick with you and shape who you become. I have this life, and I have the opportunity to make history.

Write your own story.
Everything comes full circle.
I am who I am because of the experiences I go through. So, yes, my spirit was broken for a little, but I’m not going to waste another breath giving that boy more credit than he deserves.
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We will change this world. Some may sit, laugh and grin, but I know my broken spirit is only part of my history. My story will be one for the books.For anyone doubting themselves, the pain we endure will be worth creating the story you are meant to write.Be grand, be fearless, and be your own author of your very own book.

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