After the Jar Breaks
One of my favorite poems is *Love After Love* by Derek Walcott.
“The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror…
Sit. Feast on your life.”
I was at a birthday dinner last week, catching up on college memories and joking about past relationships, when a friend said, “I feel like we never saw you while you were dating ___.” It landed heavier than I expected. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it was.
It reminded me, again, of the contrast: how full my life feels right now, and how empty it felt during a past long-term relationship. And how I didn’t fully see that emptiness while I was in it.
There’s a kind of relationship dynamic many people sadly fall into where you look up one day and realize: yes, I have a person… but I’ve lost everything else. Your hobbies disappear, interests shrink, friendships take a backseat. You become smaller without noticing. Like a lightning bug in a jar that’s still glowing, just contained.
And then, eventually the jar breaks.
This season of being single has been the most expansive, grounding, life-giving season I’ve ever had. It’s made space for growth, joy, actually getting to know myself again. For loving myself in ways I used to wait for someone else to.
Now, when I want to travel, or try a new restaurant, or do something spontaneous, I don’t have to ask for permission or hear “we’ll see” or “maybe.” I just go.
And every time I do, it feels like reclaiming something and taking love that once had nowhere to land and pouring it back where it always belonged.
Back into my jar.
The most freeing part of all of that is now I have this genuine lack of rush or desire in needing to find someone. Like many people, I would love to experience it. But, I’m not desperate for it because I have put in so much work and learned exactly what I will never repeat again.
The unlearning, the rebuilding, the boundary-setting, the choosing msyelf over and over and over again even when it was uncomfortable is a kind of growth that doesn’t happen overnight and it’s not something I’m willing to compromise just to have the comfort of a boyfriend.
I think that’s also where the idea of “getting your sparkle” back comes from.
I’ve seen so much content recently on my feed of women leaving relationships where they dimmed and then slowlty, piece by piece come back to life. Laughing louder, dressing how they want, reconnecting with friends, trying new things, moving across the country.
Not because they’ve met someone else, but because they greeted themselves arriving at their own door.
When I think about my next relationship it looks very different.
It’s two people who already have full lives… our own passions, friendships, routines, hobbies, but are also excited to build something shared, too. Where independence and togetherness can coexist without one overpowering the other.
No jars in sight.
