How God Led Me Through A Breakup

The Beginning Of The Healing Journey

In my last blog, “My Celibacy Journey: Setting Boundaries and Trusting God” , I opened up about celibacy and the journey that comes with choosing that path, especially when you’re doing it while healing from heartbreak. I briefly discussed how my relationship ended. He was unfaithful, and that kind of heartbreak cuts deep.

Trying to stay celibate while also trying to keep sane after everything, it wasn’t easy at all. There were days I felt completely lost, like I was trying to hold onto God with one hand while patching up a broken heart with the other. But through it all, I kept holding on to God.

I made a decision. I was going to pour myself into God. That meant giving Him my attention, my time, my heart, even when it hurt. And honestly, that’s what helped me to keep going. I won’t lie, though. There were moments I got distracted. Moments when I drifted and found myself busy with things that, deep down, weren’t helping me heal.

Busyness vs. Brokenness: When Productivity Masks Grief

I mentioned in my last blog that I started going out to clubs and got involved with a guy from the club. That was one way I tried to escape the pain. But there were other things too, things that on the surface looked like “self-care” or “glow-up culture”: doing my hair, my makeup, dressing up, trying to feel good about myself again. And sure, some of that is harmless. But I know now that I was doing all of it to distract myself from the ache I was carrying inside.

I also threw myself into finishing my master’s. I had two months to write my dissertation, I had to write a 25,000-word dissertation. I’d left it to the last minute, and to make things worse, I had COVID while writing it. No time to cry. No space to fall apart. Just deadlines and word counts.

And then right after submitting it in November, I started a new job. Back-to-back busyness. I told myself I was being productive, but deep down, I was just avoiding the grief. Everyone loves to say, “Just focus on your career, work on your goals, keep it moving.” And I tried. But if I’m being honest, I was running from the pain.

And one lie we all believe is that time heals. It doesn’t. God heals.

It wasn’t until I started writing these blogs that I stopped feeling it all. And let me tell you, writing these words has brought so many tears. But it’s also brought healing. I should have rested and healed back then, but I didn’t. 

Grieving the Good: Honouring the Beauty in a Broken Relationship

Now, about him.

The connection we had was genuinely beautiful. No matter how it ended, I can’t pretend it was all bad. He was the one who invited me to the church I now call home. That one invitation changed everything for me.

Looking back, I can see how God used him to pull me closer. He introduced me to preachers and worship leaders I still love today. He encouraged me to get into the Word. We’d pray together, watch sermons, and talk about Jesus. He nurtured my faith in a way no one else ever had.

And because I’d lost so many friends when we started dating, especially since he had previously been with someone I was close to, he became my person, read my blog “How God Restored a Broken Friendship After Betrayal”.   He was the one I leaned on the most. 

So when it all fell apart, it wasn’t just a breakup. It was the loss of someone who had become such a big part of my spiritual life, my daily life, my healing journey.

Heartbreak is messy. It’s never straightforward, no matter how much you prepare yourself. And honestly, figuring out when our relationship was truly over wasn’t some big, dramatic moment. It was quiet, confusing, and filled with a lot of inner conflict.

Looking back, I realise God was gently showing me signs all along. Even in the thick of it, when my heart was heavy and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening, He remained faithful. I started having these dreams. Dreams of him in situations that didn’t sit right with me. Some of them were connected to my fears, like my mind trying to process all the anxiety I was carrying. But some dreams felt different, like they weren’t coming from me at all. Like God was revealing what I wasn’t ready to see in real life.

At the same time, other things were happening in the relationship that just didn’t feel right. And then there were the prophecies and words people shared with me. People I trusted. People who didn’t even know the full story. It was like piece by piece, God was gently guiding me toward a decision I didn’t want to make, but needed to.

Letting Go Without All the Answers: Choosing Peace Over Closure

And when I finally decided to end it, it wasn’t this big, dramatic event. It was a short phone call. Five minutes, if that. No arguments, no deep breakdowns, just the end. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t dig for details about who or what, or how. I just knew that knowing everything wouldn’t help me heal. I wasn’t about to let insecurity take root. I didn’t want to carry images or stories in my head that would break me even more. I think it was easier because I was ready. 

Even though I did not ask him about who the woman was or anything, I still had my imagination. Sleepless nights spent replaying how it might have happened in my head, even though I didn’t know. My mind filled in the gaps with painful details that may not have even been real, but the pain felt real enough.

Since giving my life to Christ, I’ve been intentional about not conforming to the patterns of the world. I’ve learned that closure isn’t always about getting answers. It’s about getting peace. And sometimes, protecting your peace means walking away without needing all the details. Just trusting that God sees what you don’t, and that He’ll carry you through the letting go.

If I weren’t walking with God, if I were still living by the world’s standards, I probably would’ve wanted the full download of the who, what, where, and when. I would’ve gone digging, questioning, and obsessing over every detail. The world teaches us to fight dirty, to get revenge, to make someone pay for hurting us. To turn pain into anger, and that person into an enemy.

Honestly, it would’ve been easy to hate him. To block him, shame him, and talk about him behind his back. Maybe even try to ruin his peace because mine was ruined. But that’s not what God taught me. That’s not what my walk with Him is about.

Romans 12:2 says,

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”

That verse sits deep in my heart. When you’re walking with God, you can’t just react the way the world does. You start to ask, “What’s good in God’s eyes? What’s acceptable to Him?” He renews your mind, and with that renewal comes this shift: you stop living for approval from people and start caring about what Jesus would do, what He expects of you, not what society expects.

You want to be different. You want to be set apart. And that comes with renewing your mind. I didn’t want to be a crazy ex-girlfriend. I didn’t want to be bitter, or the type to blow up his phone or drag his name. I wanted peace, even if it hurt.

Society tells us to lash out, to scream, to post cryptic stories, to make people feel small. But I’ve learned that that kind of behaviour can destroy someone. It can lead to shame, guilt, and even self-harm. We live in a world where people are already fighting battles we don’t see. And I didn’t want to become another reason someone else felt worthless.

So I tried to be careful with my words, my actions, and the way I carried myself through the breakup. I can’t say I was perfect. I sent a few passive-aggressive messages (because hey, I’m human). But even through that, we found a way to move forward. We didn’t let bitterness win.

Recognizing the Signs: How God Gently Revealed the Truth

What’s wild is that even when I wasn’t fully ready to let go, God kept sending people to speak into my situation. People I trusted. People I barely knew. People who showed up with dreams, prophecies, and warnings, all confirming what I was already sensing deep down.

A whole year before we broke up, I went to this random conference, and a minister I didn’t even know pulled me aside. He said, “I need to speak with your boyfriend. A storm is coming.” He told me to end the relationship. Said something major needed to shift. He prayed for me, and I remember feeling so seen and so scared at the same time.

About five months before the breakup, someone close to me came forward out of the blue and shared a dream she had. She didn’t know the details of what was going on between us, but the dream showed my boyfriend going through something serious. It felt like another nudge from God.

And then, after it was all over, a friend told me she had a dream of me crying on the floor of her house, praying, while she asked him to leave. In real life, we’d often visit her and her husband together, so it hit deep. She hadn’t even shared the dream until after we’d broken up, but it felt like confirmation.

Like I mentioned, a lot happened in that relationship. Things that left me confused and questioning everything. Looking back now, I think the unfaithfulness had to happen. It had to be something big enough to wake me up and finally push me to leave. Because honestly, I’ve always been someone who stays longer than I should. In places. With people. Even when I know it’s not good for me.

My mum used to say, “I worry about you. If something bad was happening in your life, I feel like you’d stay quiet and just carry it on your own.” And she wasn’t wrong. When the unfaithfulness happened, I didn’t tell my family. I told a few close friends, but that was it. I knew it would have crushed them, and at the time, I didn’t have the strength to carry their pain on top of mine.

I remember one dream from that time so clearly. It happened about four weeks before the breakup. In the dream, I was in a building with my church family. Some from my church, some from other churches. Suddenly, my top just fell off. I was standing there completely naked in front of everyone. I was shocked and panicked, like, why would this happen? Why would I be exposed like that? I had no control over it.

After that dream, I kept asking my friends, “Why would something like that happen? What could it mean?” I didn’t know at the time what was coming, what would soon be knocking at my door.

Then the dream shifted. I was in a separate room, and my ex was sitting with my pastors. He was explaining my nakedness to them, like he was the only one who could. It felt like all the things I had been trying so hard to hide were laid bare. Even the nakedness felt like it was time for someone to intervene after hiding away for so long. Like God was saying, “No more covering it up. It's time to be seen so you can be healed.”

What I will say is that he respected me enough to be honest. He told me the very next day. He also spoke to my pastor that same day. I had always told him, “If anything ever happens, please just be honest with me,” and he honoured that. As painful as it was, I respected that. He was close to my brother and still is, and he told him too. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, but he gave one anyway. And people around me found their ways to support me, and I’m so grateful for that.

Looking back, it’s even more surreal because what I saw in the dream is exactly how it happened.

Truthfully, I don't talk much about all this. The pain, the shame, the weight, it’s heavy. But healing does begin with honesty, even if my voice shakes when I speak.

And I remember saying to one of my closest friends, “If I ever leave this relationship, I’ll need you.” That was just two weeks before everything fell apart. It’s like my heart knew before my mind could admit it.

I guess I’m sharing all of this because it reminds me that God never left me. Even when I was confused and clinging to a love that was slowly fading, He kept sending signs. He surrounded me with people who cared enough to speak the truth, even when it hurt. And though I was still holding onto hope, still in love with who my boyfriend was in Christ, it was hard to face who he had become. Or maybe, who he always was, and I just couldn’t see it clearly through the lens of my love.

It wasn’t easy. Letting go is never easy. But now I look back and realise how deeply I was held by God through all of it. He was guiding me, even when I didn’t want to be guided.

The Power of Wise Counsel

I wanted to be right. I was convinced I knew what I was doing. And honestly, listening to wise counsel felt almost impossible at the time. I had my guard up in every direction. I was defensive, not just outwardly, but internally too. The sad part is, I was hurting. I wasn’t even happy in the relationship, but I still pushed back against the people trying to help me.

The thing is, these weren’t just random opinions. These were people who genuinely cared. People who had wisdom.

Proverbs 24:6 says,

“And in a multitude of counselors there is safety.”

And it’s true. But back then, instead of feeling safe, I felt attacked. I didn’t recognise that their advice was love in action. I fought the safety. I resisted the protection. I ran from the care, whether it was from close friends or strangers who felt led to speak into my life.

Looking back, I realise how important it is to listen. Even when it’s hard. Even when you’re convinced that no one understands. You don’t always have to agree with everything that’s said, but taking time to reflect, to genuinely sit with what someone is saying, can save you from so much unnecessary pain. And I had a multitude of counsellors around me. People, I should’ve listened the first time.

Of course, I eventually did come around. But if I’d humbled myself earlier, I probably wouldn’t have had to go through half of what I did. Still, you live and you learn. That’s the journey. We listen, we grow, and we try not to judge others who are in the thick of it, because we’ve been there too.

Why Listening to Godly Wisdom Can Save You from Heartache

2 Corinthians 13:1 reminds me of this principle:

“This will be the third time I am coming to you. By the mouth of two or three witnesses every word shall be established.”

God doesn’t just drop the same message once and hope we catch it. He’ll send confirmations. Through different people, different places. And when those messages start to echo, when you keep hearing the same thing over and over again, maybe that’s not just people talking. Maybe that’s God trying to get your attention.

And now, I try to lean into that. I try to stay soft-hearted, even when it stings. Because I know what it’s like to fight wise counsel. And I know what it’s like to finally surrender and feel peace.

Over the years, it wasn’t just one or two people who came to me. There were many. God was trying to get through to me, and He did it in all sorts of ways. He sent prophets, He used friends, people in my circle, even strangers. Looking back, I can see it now. I was surrounded by people speaking truth into my life. I just didn’t want to hear it.

And I think that’s something a lot of us do, right? We follow our hearts. We let our emotions lead, even when they’re all over the place. We cling to what we want, not necessarily what’s right. The heart wants what it wants, but it can be deceptive, too. I knew that, but at the time, I didn’t want to admit it.

Being in that relationship wasn’t easy. Honestly, it felt like everything was working against me. From the moment we got together, there were challenges. We did have good moments, sure. But the truth is, I lost friends because of it. My family struggled watching me go through it. And in the end, he broke my trust.

I kept wrestling with the prophecies I was receiving. I so badly wanted everyone else to be wrong and for me to be right. There was even a time when I resented those prophecies. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I felt exposed, like every move I made was being watched. It felt like judgment, not love.

But deep down, I knew. I knew the truth. Most of us do. We just fight it because accepting it means we have to let go of something we thought we needed.

I’m reminded of 1 Thessalonians 5:20:

“Do not despise prophecies, but test everything; hold fast what is good.”

That verse hit me differently during that season. I had to start praying for the strength not to despise the things that were meant to guide me. I had to learn that correction isn’t rejection. It’s love. And love doesn’t always feel soft and warm. Sometimes it comes as a hard truth.

Learning to Value Correction

Proverbs 3:11 to 12 says,

“My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor detest His correction. For whom the Lord loves He corrects, just as a father the son in whom he delights.”

At the time, I couldn’t see it. I felt attacked, not cared for. But now I understand that all those words, all those warnings, were God’s way of saying, “I love you too much to let you stay where you are.” And I’m grateful. Truly. For every voice, He used to reach me.

God really does correct the ones He loves. And honestly, I didn’t fully feel that love until after I left the relationship. It was only then that all the words I’d received, the dreams, the prophecies, the warnings, started to feel like comfort instead of criticism. It was like God saying, “I see you, I’ve got you, and I’m still working this all out for your good.”

But let’s be real. Sometimes we resist those words. Not because we don’t believe them, but because we’re just not ready to let go. We cling to what we want, hoping that if we just hold on long enough, maybe things will magically fall into place. Even when deep down, we know it’s not meant for us. That was me. Holding on way past the expiry date because I didn’t want to accept the truth.

When Friends Want Revenge

One of the very first things I did after the breakup was talk to my friends. Not to bash him or stir up drama, that’s not my vibe. I just needed to set the tone. I didn’t want anyone going into battle for me or turning this into some messy situation. If you know me, you know I avoid conflict like the plague. I wasn’t looking for revenge. I was looking for peace.

From the moment it ended, I started praying. Not just those “God heal me” prayers, though I prayed those too, but deeper ones. I prayed for forgiveness. I prayed for him. Like, prayed. I asked God to bless him, to guide him, to restore whatever was broken inside both of us. And my friends? Some of them prayed with me. For him. For healing. For all of it.

But I learned something quickly: not everyone gets that. Some people, even with the best intentions, just want to defend you. They want to fight your battles, throw shade, and take sides. They think they’re helping, but really, it’s more about their anger than your healing. And I had to lovingly set boundaries and say, “Please don’t fight for me. That’s not what I need right now.” Because I had chosen forgiveness, and I needed the space to walk that out.

Loyalty is weird. I don’t ask for it, and I don’t expect it. I don’t give mine away easily either. If I’m loyal to you, it’s because you’ve earned it. And if someone’s loyal to me, I want it to come from a genuine place, not from a place of offence or outrage on my behalf.

There’s this verse in Numbers 11:29, where Moses says,

“Are you zealous for my sake?”

And that hit me. Hard. Because that’s exactly how I felt during that time. Like, I appreciate the love, but this isn’t about me. Don’t be zealous for my sake.

People around me meant well. They did. Some were ready to ride out, to defend me, to call people out. But I didn’t need that. I wasn’t trying to win some kind of moral battle. I wasn’t looking to turn people against him or prove a point. I just wanted peace. I wanted to forgive and move forward with a soft heart, not a bitter one.

Like Moses, I found myself thinking, “This isn’t about me.” It’s about God. About what He’s doing in all of this. About how He’s shaping me, correcting me, loving me through it all.

And for that, I’m grateful.

Choosing Peace Over Drama

In the world we live in, the people closest to you will often try to fight your battles for you. And while I appreciated their love and protection, I had to pause and ask myself if that was the kind of healing I wanted. I had already seen how God moved in my life, how He softened my heart and helped me forgive people I never thought I could. That changed me. I didn’t want to deal with things the way the world would. I didn’t want to be bitter. I didn’t want revenge. I wanted peace.

And honestly, choosing to forgive was the best decision I could have made.

Why? Because after everything I went through with my ex, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the disappointment, I kept praying. I prayed not just for myself, but for both of us. I prayed for healing, for forgiveness, for peace. I stayed celibate throughout the relationship, and I believe that season was one God used to protect me and draw me closer to Him.

Over time, I saw God’s hand in it all. He worked in my life, in my ex’s life, and even through our families and friends. We’re still in each other’s lives today, not in a romantic way, but as friends. He visits my home, spends time with my family and the people I love. And at some point, I found the strength to apologise for what I said, for how I handled things, for the ways I could have done better during and after the relationship.

And something powerful happened: because I forgave him, he forgave me too. That, to me, is such a God thing. That’s how I know God was working in both of our hearts. And the truth is, God forgave me, too.

I'm reminded of Matthew 6:14–15

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

And in Luke 11:4, Jesus taught us to pray,

“And forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who is indebted to us.”

Those words became real for me. Forgiveness isn't weakness. It's not forgetting or pretending the hurt didn’t happen. Forgiveness is strength. It’s choosing freedom. It’s choosing to protect your heart from bitterness. And when you forgive, God meets you in that space. He honours it. He works through it.

Forgiveness taught me that grace isn’t just something we receive. It’s something we give. And in doing so, we make room for real healing, both in us and in the people we once called home.

Heartbreak hurts, but God heals. Forgive, let go, and let Him work all things for your good. You're not alone. He sees you, loves you, and has a beautiful plan for your life. Keep trusting.

With love,

Theophilia 🖤