Breakups are often uneven in their emotional toll. One person seems to move on effortlessly while the other is left to navigate a hurricane of grief, confusion, and heartbreak. In my case, I was the one drowning in pain while Mark seemed to detach and move forward without looking back. The unfairness of it all was suffocating.  

But something shifted recently. For the first time since our breakup, I saw him as he truly is—not as the pedestal version I had created in my mind, but as an ordinary man with flaws, insecurities, and limitations. And for the first time, I didn’t feel longing or intense grief over our family life together. Instead, I felt relief, peace, and—dare I say—a bit of satisfaction that the emotional weight had shifted.  

Why Does It Feel Good to See an Ex Struggle?

I know it sounds terrible, but a part of me feels glad that Mark is finally feeling pain. I endured so much agony while he seemed completely unaffected. While I was shattered, he went on as if nothing had changed. It was agonizing to watch. Now, seeing him acknowledge what he lost, to hear him say he misses our family life, makes me feel like the universe finally balanced the scales. 

It’s not about wanting him to suffer, but rather about validation—proof that what we had mattered, that it wasn’t just me who carried the emotional weight of it all. There’s a deep injustice in grieving alone while the other person walks away untouched. Now, that injustice feels corrected.  

Seeing the Truth Clearly: When the Illusion Shatters  

For the longest time, I idolized Mark. I saw him as something greater than he truly was—a man I had placed on a pedestal, someone I desperately wanted to work things out with. But yesterday, I didn’t see that version of him.  

I just saw a regular person. A man with no particularly remarkable qualities.  

Not someone special. Not someone irreplaceable. Just a man.  

That shift in perspective is powerful. It’s the final piece of the healing process— the moment when the love-drunk illusion wears off and you see them for exactly who they are. Not as the idealized version you had held onto for so long, but as the flawed, imperfect, and ultimately ordinary person they always were.  

The Absence of Grief: What It Means to Finally Let Go

For so long, my grief was tied to our family life together. The pain wasn’t just about losing him—it was about losing the vision of our life, the home, the shared routines, the comfort of familiarity. But now, when he tells me he misses it, I don’t feel that longing anymore.  

I don’t miss it.  

Not in the way I once did.  

It’s not that I don’t cherish the good times we had, but I no longer yearn for that life. Because now, I see it clearly: It wasn’t right for me. It wasn’t what I truly needed or wanted. The love I gave wasn’t being reciprocated in the way I deserved, and that’s a reality I can no longer ignore.  

When the Emotional Scales Finally Balance  

It’s not that I wish Mark harm—I don’t. But there is something deeply freeing about knowing that he now feels even a fraction of the pain I endured. Because it means that what we had meant something. That I wasn’t the only one who lost something valuable.  

For so long, I thought I would never move on, that I would always be haunted by the grief of losing him. But now, I see that grief fading. Not because someone else has taken his place, not because I forced myself to heal, but because I finally see things for what they are.  

He was never the right person for me. He was never emotionally available enough to give me the love I deserved. And now, for the first time, I don’t want him back.  

And that is the most liberating feeling of all.