The Heartbreaker’s Reality

The Heartbreaker’s Reality

Written by: Chereen


When I was 15, I had a shirt that read “heartbreaker.” I wore it all the time, often wiping stains off it with a wet towel in order to wear it again. The truth is, I was far from being a heartbreaker. With my lack of confidence and the constant bullying I received for being a hijabi and different, my heart was always breaking. Worst of all, I broke my own heart repeatedly by not loving myself. It would take years until I lifted the hammer off my own heart and picked up all the shattered pieces that belonged to me.

I can bet you anything that I was made fun of behind my back for wearing that shirt. That shirt, the one I was so proud of for being my first purchase from American Eagle because it was on sale, was an inaccurate description of who I was and what the status of my heart truly was. But now that I look back on it, it reminds me of who I was in that moment. It also reminds me that I have come a long way from days of being bullied and allowing others to stomp all over my heart. The symphony of my heart was once one of sadness and depressed emotions. If there is anything I can advise you upon from my own experiences, it is that it gets better. And it’s important to measure your growth over time. Few to none know this, but the first client I ever had as a therapist was myself. And the first person I ever life coached was me. I woke up one morning years ago and realized that self-love and self-appreciation are important. And if I don’t stand up for myself, nobody ever well. And if I ever want to help anyone and see change in a person’s valuable world, the change must start with me.

The truth is, I have days I need to fight just like everyone else. But the truth also is, when I conquer those days, I remember that those days are blessings from my Creator. Because even the success of getting through hard days is a test. And verily, with hardship comes ease. I will never be a heartbreaker, but I am a heartmender. That is a shirt I would happily wear. The stitches of that shirt I would embrace and caress. Those stains I would happily wipe with a wet towel, over and over again.

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