Last Friday, as I was walking down the office corridor, my colleague caught me off guard with a simple but powerful statement: “You are great, Suzette, you should know that.” I smiled at her, but the words that escaped my mouth were laced with years of pain and confusion: “Tell it to my X.”

Her compliment, though genuine and heartfelt, brought back a flood of emotions I’ve been carrying for years. It took me right back to the time when my world fell apart—when I felt like I had lost everything, including my sense of self.

I remember going to work in tears, unable to keep it together. My colleagues, who knew me as someone strong and composed, saw me unravel before their eyes. They did their best to comfort me, but nothing could touch the depth of the sorrow I was feeling. It wasn’t just emotional pain; it was physical. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Every moment felt like an unbearable weight pressing down on me, reminding me of the loss.

The pain followed me everywhere, even in the most mundane moments. I remember crying while walking through the grocery store, trying to pick out basic necessities, but the grief was overwhelming. Strangers would approach me, asking if I needed help, but how could I explain that the only help I wanted was for the person I loved to come back? I felt so hopeless, so empty. It’s strange to be surrounded by people yet feel so completely alone.

The worst part was the rejection. I kept hoping he would come back, that he would realize the mistake he made, but every attempt I made to reach out was met with silence. Each time he ignored me or turned me away, it felt like another wound being carved into my heart. I was desperate for answers, desperate for the person I thought I’d spend my life with to return, but all I received was rejection after rejection.

Hitting Rock Bottom

I hit rock bottom, or at least what felt like it. There was no escaping the pain, no moment where I could find relief. I even flew back to the Philippines, seeking the comfort of my family, thinking that distance and being surrounded by love would somehow heal the ache inside me. But even there, the sadness followed me.

At night, I’d lie awake, replaying every moment of our relationship, wondering where it all went wrong. During the day, I’d walk by the shore, watching the waves, hoping they could wash away the weight in my heart. But no matter how far I went or how many loved ones surrounded me, the healing had to come from within—and I wasn’t ready for it yet. I still clung to the hope that he would come back, that somehow, he’d see my worth.

Finding My Way Back

And then, slowly, after what felt like an eternity of tears and heartbreak, I began to find my way back. The pain didn’t disappear overnight, and even today, I still carry pieces of it with me. But I’ve learned that I’m more than the person who was left behind. I am more than the heartbreak that once defined me.

When my colleague told me I was great, it wasn’t just a compliment—it was a reminder. A reminder of everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve survived, and everything I’ve become. Through the sleepless nights, the public tears, the rejection, I had lost sight of my own greatness. But her words brought me back to myself.

I am great. And I don’t need my ex to tell me that. I don’t need his validation, his approval, or his return to know my worth. I’ve spent too long trying to make someone else see what I already possess inside.

Moving Forward

Now, he’s trying to come back, acting as though the years of heartache and rejection were nothing more than a passing storm. But I’m not the same person who was left behind. I’m not the same person who cried in the grocery store, hoping for his return. I’m not the same person who couldn’t eat or sleep because of the overwhelming pain.

Yes, I still carry some of the scars, and yes, the hurt doesn’t just disappear. But I’m stronger now. I’m more self-aware, more protective of my heart. I’m no longer waiting for his validation. I’m no longer holding my breath for someone else’s recognition.

My colleague‘S words reminded me that I’ve always been enough, even when I couldn’t see it myself. And that’s the version of me I’m holding onto as I move forward, stronger and more resilient than ever before. I’ve learned that my worth doesn’t depend on anyone else’s perception of me, and I don’t need someone else to come back into my life to tell me that I’m great.

So when people tell me I’m great, I’ll smile, and I’ll believe it. And I Will keep responding with this “Tell it to my X!”.