“The word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.”
— Carl Jung
There was a moment not long ago when I found myself unexpectedly undone by sadness.
I had been chatting with someone online — funny, charming, playful. We had a real connection, or so I thought. I looked forward to meeting him in person. But just before our first date, he canceled. And then? Nothing. No explanation. No text. Just silence.
I’d been ghosted.
And while I knew deep down he wasn’t “the one,” it still hurt. It triggered something deeper. The sadness crept in slowly, then hit all at once. I skipped a Labor Day pool party, stayed home, and sobbed. You know… the ugly cry — the one that feels like it reaches your bones.
That weekend, I allowed myself to sit with my pain. Not to distract myself. Not numb it. Just feel it.
🌧 What I Realized in the Sadness
Many people around me tried to cheer me up. They meant well, but their kindness felt rushed. Their advice didn’t land because I wasn’t ready to “get over it.” I didn’t want to slap on a smile or distract myself with a bar of chocolate or some noisy social event. (Honestly, has chocolate ever fixed a broken heart? Well… maybe temporarily. 😅)
I grew up hearing that I should “just be happy,” especially from my dad. But what I’ve learned — both in life and through coaching others — is that we aren’t meant to be happy all the time. And that’s okay.
Sadness is part of being human. And sometimes, it’s exactly what our soul needs to rest, reflect, and reset.
💛 My Personal “Sit in the Shit”
I call it sitting in the shit. Others might call it something more poetic like “sitting in the mess.” But let’s be honest — when you’re heartbroken, it doesn’t feel poetic. It feels raw and real. And that’s sacred.
That weekend, I chose not to push past the pain. I didn’t force healing. I permitted myself just to be sad. I needed to feel the sting of rejection, the disappointment of unmet hopes.
But I also trusted that it wouldn’t last forever. And it didn’t.
🌱 How I Gently Moved Through It
Healing didn’t happen in a day — but when it came, it was soft and simple.
- I cleaned my apartment.
- I picked out beautiful flowers.
- I bought sushi takeout for my mom and me — just because
- I treated myself to a new pair of earrings.
I finally replaced my ancient computer with one that didn’t sound like it was gasping for air.
These weren’t grand gestures. They were small ways of reminding myself: you matter, you’re worth care, and this moment is temporary.
🎵 Music, Movies, and the Comfort of God
One night, standing alone in the shower, I found myself belting out “Let It Go” from the animated Disney movie Frozen — and I mean really belting it. It was silly, dramatic, a little off-key… and honestly, perfect. Something about that moment cracked something open in me — not in a painful way, but in a releasing way. It was cathartic. Unapologetic. Needed.
Later, I curled up on the couch and rewatched Legally Blonde. Watching Elle Woods transform heartbreak into fierce determination felt like looking in a mirror. It reminded me that pain doesn’t have to break us — sometimes, it builds something brand new. Something bold.
But most of all, I turned to something eternal: Scripture.
I’ve saved a quiet little library of verses on Pinterest — promises and reminders that God is near to the brokenhearted. On the days when the tears came back, I’d read them slowly. And in those quiet moments, it felt like Heaven itself was whispering: You are not alone.
Healing doesn’t always look like a breakthrough moment.
Sometimes, it looks like singing Disney songs in the shower, watching pink-clad heroines rise, and finding comfort in ancient, sacred words.
☁️ The Sun Always Comes Back
Eventually, the sadness softened. My heart felt a little lighter. I started smiling again — not because someone told me to, but because I was ready.
And then… someone new came into the picture. A gentle surprise, a reminder that love can arrive when you least expect it.
But honestly? The real healing wasn’t in meeting someone new. It was in meeting myself again — tender, tear-streaked, but whole.
✨ If You’re in That Place Now…
You don’t need to rush out of the dark. Stay as long as you need. Feel it all. And when you’re ready — not a moment sooner — here are a few gentle ways to ease forward:
- 🌿 Buy yourself flowers or a little treat
- 🎶 Sing (loudly), or watch a favorite feel-good movie
- 📖 Read a verse that brings peace
- 🪜 Clean something small — even just a drawer
- ☕ Call a friend, but don’t feel pressure to “perform”
- 🌿 Step outside and notice something beautiful
🙏 You Can’t Have the Light Without the Darkness
That weekend after Labor Day reminded me: it’s okay to fall apart.
And when the sadness lifts, when the tears dry, you’ll feel the light again. Brighter. Truer. Because you didn’t rush through the dark — you honored it.
So, if you’re hurting, let yourself hurt. Sit in the shit. Sing in the shower. Cry into your pillow. Pray. And then, slowly, come back to life.
God is with you — even in the mess. Especially there. 💛
With compassion and truth,
Nayerie
Phoenix Coaching
Clarity Cookies 
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