Nouveauté

The Break up was a Blessing: From Rock Bottom to Reinvention How I Turned Heartache into Hustle

Par : SHADDY GRACE
Offrir maintenant
Ou planifier dans votre panier
Disponible dans votre compte client Decitre ou Furet du Nord dès validation de votre commande. Le format ePub est :
  • Compatible avec une lecture sur My Vivlio (smartphone, tablette, ordinateur)
  • Compatible avec une lecture sur liseuses Vivlio
  • Pour les liseuses autres que Vivlio, vous devez utiliser le logiciel Adobe Digital Edition. Non compatible avec la lecture sur les liseuses Kindle, Remarkable et Sony
Logo Vivlio, qui est-ce ?

Notre partenaire de plateforme de lecture numérique où vous retrouverez l'ensemble de vos ebooks gratuitement

Pour en savoir plus sur nos ebooks, consultez notre aide en ligne ici
C'est si simple ! Lisez votre ebook avec l'app Vivlio sur votre tablette, mobile ou ordinateur :
Google PlayApp Store
  • FormatePub
  • ISBN8231646944
  • EAN9798231646944
  • Date de parution07/06/2025
  • Protection num.pas de protection
  • Infos supplémentairesepub
  • ÉditeurWalzone Press

Résumé

I didn't cry right away. That's what messed me up. The silence after the breakup was louder than any scream. No texts, no calls, no fake "I hope you're okay" messages. Just air. Thick, still, and cruel. I sat on the edge of my bed staring at a phone that didn't light up. My hands were clenched. My mind was racing. I checked my phone again. Nothing. No one tells you that heartbreak doesn't start with the fight or the goodbye - it starts in the stillness that comes after.
It's in the moment you realize they're not coming back. And worse, they don't care. That's when my stomach flipped. Not from sadness, but rage. The kind of rage that makes you want to burn the whole world and rebuild it from scratch with your name on every corner. Rage with direction. That's when I knew - I couldn't let this break me. Because here's the truth: breakups aren't cute. They're not poetic.
They don't come with healing crystals or playlists that fix your spine. They hit like a car crash at midnight. You feel it in your bones. It rewires how you see yourself. You look in the mirror and you don't know who the hell's staring back. Eyes too tired. Skin too pale. Confidence? Gone. That's where I started. No savings. No backup plan. No hand to hold. Just me and the echo of a love that decided I wasn't enough.
He left with no warning. Just a cold explanation and some mumbling about timing. Said I was too ambitious. Said I was too much. Imagine that - a woman wanting more was the problem. I should've seen it. The way he flinched every time I talked about building something bigger. The way his face tightened when I mentioned launching my own thing. The way he needed me to be small so he could feel tall. But I didn't shrink.
I didn't cry right away. That's what messed me up. The silence after the breakup was louder than any scream. No texts, no calls, no fake "I hope you're okay" messages. Just air. Thick, still, and cruel. I sat on the edge of my bed staring at a phone that didn't light up. My hands were clenched. My mind was racing. I checked my phone again. Nothing. No one tells you that heartbreak doesn't start with the fight or the goodbye - it starts in the stillness that comes after.
It's in the moment you realize they're not coming back. And worse, they don't care. That's when my stomach flipped. Not from sadness, but rage. The kind of rage that makes you want to burn the whole world and rebuild it from scratch with your name on every corner. Rage with direction. That's when I knew - I couldn't let this break me. Because here's the truth: breakups aren't cute. They're not poetic.
They don't come with healing crystals or playlists that fix your spine. They hit like a car crash at midnight. You feel it in your bones. It rewires how you see yourself. You look in the mirror and you don't know who the hell's staring back. Eyes too tired. Skin too pale. Confidence? Gone. That's where I started. No savings. No backup plan. No hand to hold. Just me and the echo of a love that decided I wasn't enough.
He left with no warning. Just a cold explanation and some mumbling about timing. Said I was too ambitious. Said I was too much. Imagine that - a woman wanting more was the problem. I should've seen it. The way he flinched every time I talked about building something bigger. The way his face tightened when I mentioned launching my own thing. The way he needed me to be small so he could feel tall. But I didn't shrink.