
I. You’re Not Crazy, You’re Just Heartbroken
You’re lying in bed, scrolling through their old texts, and—ugh—why does it still hurt? Why do I miss someone who hurt me? Like, they ghosted you after months of hot-and-cold vibes, or maybe they breadcrumbed you with just enough attention to keep you hooked. And yet, here you are, heart aching like it’s auditioning for a sad rom-com. You hate them. But you miss them. And yeah, it’s confusing as hell.
Let’s be real: you’re not weak for feeling this. You’re wired for attachment, and your brain is doing some wild gymnastics trying to make sense of it all. Missing someone who hurt you isn’t a character flaw—it’s biology, psychology, and a sprinkle of that messy thing called love. This blog isn’t here to feed you “just move on” clichés. Nah, we’re sitting on the bathroom floor with you, tissues in hand, ready to unpack why your heart’s stuck on someone who didn’t deserve it. Promise: you’ll feel less alone by the end.
II. Why Does Your Heart Keep Playing the Wrong Song?
Why Do I Still Crave Their Attention?
Your phone buzzes, and for a split second, you hope it’s them. Spoiler: it’s just a spam email. But that little jolt? That’s your brain chasing a dopamine hit. When you were with them, every text, every late-night call, every “you’re mine” moment lit up your brain’s reward center like a slot machine. Now? You’re in withdrawal, like a caffeine addict who quit cold turkey. Breakup brain chemistry is brutal—dopamine levels crash, leaving you jittery and craving something to feel good again. Even if that something is the person who hurt you.
Takeaway: You’re not obsessed. Your brain’s just fiending for a fix that isn’t coming.
Is It Love… or Is It Trauma?
Okay, let’s talk trauma bonding. It’s like your heart got suckered into a toxic loyalty program. You know when they’d hurt you—say, by ignoring you for days—then swoop back with sweet apologies or a random “I miss you”? That push-pull messes with you. Your brain starts associating their inconsistency with love, because the highs feel so good after the lows. It’s why trauma bond symptoms like obsessively checking their socials or replaying their “good” moments hit so hard. You’re not craving them. You’re craving the rollercoaster they put you on.
Takeaway: Love doesn’t hurt like this. Trauma tricks you into thinking it does.
Why Am I Addicted to Their Validation?
They’d toss you a compliment, and suddenly you’re glowing. Then they’d pull back, and you’re questioning your entire existence. Sound familiar? That’s cognitive dissonance—your brain wrestling with who they were (charming, sometimes) versus who they turned out to be (uh, not great). You keep chasing their approval because it feels like proof you’re enough. Spoiler: their silence isn’t about your worth. It’s about their inability to show up.
Takeaway: Their validation was never the prize. You’re already enough.

Why Does My Brain Keep Rewinding to the Good Times?
Your ex wasn’t all bad, right? There were movie nights, inside jokes, that one time they looked at you like you were their whole world. Your brain’s stuck in a limbic loop, replaying those highlights on repeat while conveniently skipping the part where they ghosted you for a week. It’s not you being delusional—it’s your nervous system trying to soothe itself by clinging to what felt safe. Effects of heartbreak on the brain are sneaky like that.
Takeaway: Those good memories? They’re real. But they don’t erase the bad ones.
Why Am I So Scared to Let Go?
If you’re freaking out about being alone, it might not just be about them. Attachment wounds from way back—like feeling abandoned as a kid—can make breakups feel like the end of the world. If you lean anxious or preoccupied (hi, fellow overthinkers!), your brain’s screaming, “If I lose them, I lose everything.” That fear of abandonment isn’t about your ex’s greatness. It’s about old scars getting poked.
Takeaway: You’re not doomed to feel this way forever. Healing starts with noticing the pattern.
Why Does It Feel Like I’m Quitting Something?
Emotional withdrawal after breakup is no joke. It’s like trying to quit nicotine, but instead of cigarettes, it’s their laugh, their smell, their dumb memes. Your body’s physically reacting—cortisol spikes, heart racing, that hollow chest ache. That’s your nervous system in freefall, trying to recalibrate without the person it thought was “home.” Even if home was, like, a dumpster fire.
Takeaway: Your body’s detoxing. It’s temporary, even if it feels like forever.

III. How to Start Healing (No Toxic Positivity Allowed)
🪞 Mirror Talk > Texting Them
Look in the mirror and say, “I’m choosing me today.” Sounds cheesy, but it’s powerful. Your brain needs to hear you rooting for yourself, not waiting for their half-assed “wyd” text. Try this script: “I’m worth more than their silence. I’m allowed to let go.” You might cry. That’s okay. Let it out. Physical reaction: Your shoulders might relax, like you’re shedding their weight.
Takeaway: You’re your own hype squad now. Keep talking yourself up.
✂️ Cut Contact. No, Really. Block ‘em.
I know, I know—you’re thinking, “But what if they reach out?” Let’s be real: they’re not gonna say anything worth hearing. Blocking them isn’t petty; it’s self-preservation. How to stop missing someone starts with cutting the cord. Go to their profile, hit block, and breathe. Physical reaction: Your stomach might knot up at first, but then? Relief. Like you just dodged a bullet.
Takeaway: You’re not erasing them. You’re protecting your peace.
✉️ Write the Closure Letter You’ll Never Send
Grab a notebook and let it rip. Write everything—how they hurt you, what you miss, what you wish you’d said. Example: “I hate how you made me feel small, but I miss your stupid laugh. I’m mad at you, but I’m madder at myself for staying.” Don’t send it. Burn it, rip it, or tuck it away. Physical reaction: Your chest might feel lighter, like you’ve exhaled a secret.
Takeaway: Closure comes from you, not them.
🎧 Create a “Goodbye” Playlist & Actually Cry to It
Make a playlist that’s all about you—not them. Think Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish, or some classic Adele if you’re feeling extra. Let yourself ugly-cry to it. Signs you’re not over your ex include avoiding those big feelings, so lean in. Physical reaction: Your eyes will sting, your throat will tighten, but then? Catharsis. Like a storm passing.
Takeaway: Crying isn’t weak. It’s your heart hitting reset.
📓 Journal Like It’s a Detox Log
Journaling isn’t just for poets. Write messy, raw, unfiltered. Try this prompt: “What do I miss about them, and what do I not miss?” Example: “I miss their hugs. I don’t miss checking my phone 50 times a day.” Physical reaction: Your hand might cramp, but your brain will feel clearer, like you’ve decluttered.
Takeaway: Writing it down makes it real. You’re stronger than you think.
💌 Text a Friend Instead of Them
Next time you’re tempted to text your ex, text your bestie instead. Say, “Yo, I’m spiraling, help me not do something dumb.” They’ll probably reply with a meme or drag you to get tacos. Physical reaction: Your nervous system calms down when you’re not alone in the pain.
Takeaway: Your people are your lifeline. Lean on them.

IV. Quick Start Healing Guide
Too numb to read all that? Start here:
- Block them now. Like, right now.
- Text your best friend: “I need help not texting my ex.”
- Cry. Rinse face. Eat toast.
- Journal: “I miss you. But I’m still choosing me.”
V. You’re Not Broken, You’re Rebuilding
Here’s the thing: heartbreak sucks. Studies say it takes about 11 weeks to start feeling “normal” again, but let’s be real—some of us take 11 months. And that’s okay. It’s not a race. You’re not starting over; you’re starting wiser. You’ve learned what you deserve (spoiler: it’s better than breadcrumbs). Loving someone who hurt you isn’t your failure. Staying there would be. You’re not weak for missing them—you’re human. And humans rebuild. You’ve got this.
VI. Affirmations to Carry You
- I can miss you and still move on.
- Your silence doesn’t define my worth.
- I deserve peace, not punishment.
- I’m allowed to be angry and still heal.
- Missing you doesn’t mean I want you back.
- My heart’s bruised, but it’s still beating.
- I’m rebuilding, one day at a time.
- I’m enough, with or without you.
VII. FAQs
Why do I miss someone who hurt me?
Because love creates bonds—even unhealthy ones. Your brain remembers the highs, not the harm.
Is missing a toxic ex normal?
Totally. Trauma bonds are powerful. But missing them doesn’t mean you should go back.
How long does heartbreak last?
Science says about 11 weeks on average. But healing’s not linear—some wounds echo longer.
Why does it hurt even when I know they were wrong for me?
Because your heart hoped for better. Grief honors what could’ve been, not what was.
How do I stop missing them?
Cut contact, feel the feelings, and lean on your people. It’s slow, but it works.
You’re not alone in this. Keep going. You’re stronger than you know. 💪