“Why did no one tell me that breakups were this hard?” This was the question that I kept asking all of my friends after my first heartbreak. Even though I knew and have always known that love can be fleeting, my knowledge did not save me from the feelings of overwhelming sense of loss and grief that followed. The relationship, though short-lived, was intense. I had only read about heartbreak and seen my friends go through all the motions when they broke up with their partners. I had never really imagined it to hurt so damn bad. Most of my friends are straight, so I did not really have representation for the heartbreak that I was about to go through. In cis-het relationships, the very general and simple reason that cis-women give is that “men are not good”. I remember my friends being really excited to see me happy and in love. However, unknowingly, they also put a lot of pressure because according to just about everyone, I was lucky to not be dating a man and so there was nothing that could go wrong. Boy, were they wrong!

I am not going into the details about what happened because that is boring and not important; what is important is the fact that queer people, and especially queer women, do not really see relationships like theirs around them. We see happy and successful queer women in love but only on the internet, and those examples are also quite scarce. We do not have a concrete reference, so every little thing and every feeling seems so unique, but also quite isolating for that very reason. Fortunately, I had some queer friends, but I still felt very alone because the feeling of loss in itself is very isolating. And when you couple it with the fact that most of the people would not understand your feelings or dismiss it by saying that your ex was in the wrong, heartbreak for a queer person becomes almost like a burden that one has to carry all alone in this big cis-het world.

People cope very differently while going through heartbreak. I, like every other rational person, booked a hotel room for myself because I did not want to be at home with my parents. When I told my friend about this, like all reasonable people, she left everything and came over with whiskey for a “breakup party”. in her own words. Looking back, it hurt a lot and I did not know how to deal with it, but I am glad that I got to experience it because it made me realise that my friends care about me and will do everything in their power to make me feel better. Heartbreak also puts a lot of things in perspective because even though you feel just so horrible and alone, you see your friends actively choose you over everything just because you are sad. And even though they do not understand, they just want to be there for you. At the end of the day, breakups suck for everyone but just like queer love, queer heartbreak is vastly different from that of cis-het people.

I remember that I used to constantly remind myself that a big heartbreak meant a big love. But while we’re on the topic of heartbreak, I won’t dwell too much in cynicism, because love is truly remarkable. It’s a profound feeling that has the power to overshadow everything and everyone else in your life. It’s warm, homely, and almost magical when you have someone who wants to know every little detail about you and your life. You actively make space for another person in your life, not because you have to, but because it feels like the next logical step, especially when you’re deeply in love. However, in queer relationships, the act of making space becomes a task in itself. Unlike our heterosexual counterparts, we’re not always readily accepted, and we constantly have to pick and choose who we can share this happiness with. Despite this, self-preservation and safety remain the primary concerns of every queer person. Witnessing others talk freely and without considering these factors can evoke feelings of resentment and helplessness.

The helplessness and resentment felt by queer individuals when only cis-het love and heartbreak are accepted in society, runs deep. It’s a constant reminder of systemic biases and societal norms that marginalise the queer experience. Seeing predominantly cis-het relationships celebrated without question reinforces feelings of isolation and invisibility. Queer individuals often feel pressure to hide their love to avoid judgement or discrimination, amplifying their sense of helplessness and resentment. Constantly navigating spaces where queer love may not be welcomed is emotionally exhausting. Despite these challenges, it persists, defying societal norms and finding strength in shared experiences. It’s a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

I can only hope that younger queer individuals get to experience queer love and even heartbreak in their lives, not just through the lens of the internet. Experiencing these emotions firsthand, navigating the complexities of relationships, and overcoming heartbreaks contribute to our growth and understanding of ourselves. It’s through these experiences that we learn resilience, empathy, and the true depth of our capacity to love.

Moreover, by witnessing real-life examples of queer love and heartbreak, younger generations can find solace and validation in their own experiences. They can see that their feelings are not isolated or abnormal, but rather part of a rich tapestry of human emotion shared by many within the community. So, as we navigate through the highs and lows of love and heartbreak, let us remember that our experiences are valid, our stories are worth sharing, and our capacity to love knows no bounds.