A letter to my ex/The Star Illustration
Every heartbreak has a story. “Letter to My Ex” invites you into the reflective hearts of people who’ve loved, lost, and grown—offering gentle truths, bold lessons, and encouragement for anyone navigating the aftermath of a relationship. These weekly letters are full of grace and grit, showing how endings shape wisdom and how the past still holds power to teach. From understanding closure to embracing self-love, each piece is a tribute to growth through love, loss, and lived experience.
Michael*, a Nairobi journalist, pens this week’s heartfelt Letter to My Ex.
Dear Ex Sonie*
I hope this finds you well.
Since our breakup, life has been a storm I never saw coming. The separation was heavy, like a stone pressed against my chest. It shocked my heart and left me wandering through nights where even sleep abandoned me. Tears became my nightly companions, and mornings felt like unfinished battles.
The hardest part, though, was our daughter. She was my anchor, my little ray of light. Knowing she’s been introduced to another man still pierces me like a thorn that refuses to let go. It felt as though my world had caved in, and even heaven had closed its doors.
But let me take you back, to where it all began.
You walked into my life as an intern at my workplace, fresh, eager, full of promise. I was your supervisor, but in time, titles faded and something deeper bloomed. What began as mentorship grew into friendship, and friendship blossomed into love.
Those early days were golden. Laughter stitched our hearts together, and shared dreams painted our future bright. We imagined a life built on partnership, conquering challenges side by side, being the best parents our children could ever wish for, and growing old together with our inside jokes as our secret language.
I believed you were the one. You were the woman I wanted to build eternity with, the mother of my children, the love of my life. My heart adored you, blind to the cracks that slowly crept in.
But cracks have a way of widening. What began as whispers of misunderstanding grew into walls of silence. The warmth in your eyes turned cold, your voice sharper, your respect fading. And then, as if destiny were cruel, another man stepped into the place I once held.
My dreams collapsed. My choice, to love you and only you, seemed like a cruel joke. I had imagined my last breath beside you. Instead, I watched you walk away.
The aftermath nearly swallowed me whole. I felt drained, abandoned, and broken. Spiritually, I questioned God; emotionally, I was drowning. Yet even in the darkness, hands reached out. My family held me close. My spiritual father prayed with me. My bosses showed kindness. Counsellors reminded me that love had not failed me; it had simply taken a different turn.
Slowly, painfully, healing began. Church became my refuge, work my distraction, and friends my lifeline. Step by step, the weight lifted.
And then came grace. God blessed me with a woman who embodies love, respect, and peace. She has shown me what patient love feels like. With her, I rediscovered joy, not the fiery rush of passion, but the calm, steady warmth of true companionship. For that, I am grateful.
I do not write this to wound you, nor to parade my newfound happiness. I write this because it is my truth, the story of how heartbreak nearly crushed me, yet became the very hammer that shaped me stronger.
I have learned that love is fragile, but the human spirit is unbreakable. That leaning on others is not weakness but wisdom. That God, in His time, sends light to scatter even the deepest shadows.
Today, I stand whole. No longer broken, but grateful for the lessons, for the healing, for the peace that found me.
And so, with all honesty, I wish you peace, joy, and love on your own path. For if my story proves anything, it is this: when life ends one chapter, it begins another — often gentler, often better.
With honesty,
Michael.*
(Names have been changed to protect privacy.)
Everyone has a story about love, loss, or heartbreak worth sharing. If you’ve ever wanted to say the things you couldn’t—apologies, closure, gratitude, or truths—to someone from your past, we invite you to write to us. Your real, heartfelt letter might offer healing or understanding to someone else who has been through something similar. You may remain anonymous if you prefer, but your words matter. We don’t pay contributors, but we believe in the power of shared experiences and emotional honesty. Join us in creating a collection of letters that explore love, lessons, and letting go. Be part of this movement.
