Quick to Turn the Corner: The Art of Moving Forward

There's something deeply personal about how we process endings. Some of us linger in the aftermath, while others—like myself—seem to turn the corner with surprising speed. This ability to move forward decisively after relationships end has been both a strength and a source of quiet self-doubt.

I often wonder about this aspect of my personality. In many ways, it's a valuable trait—not spending excessive time grieving, wallowing, or lamenting past relationships. I acknowledge the pain, feel the loss, and then continue walking my path. But sometimes, in moments of late-night reflection, I can't help but question: "Am I just a stone cold bitch?"

This can't be the whole truth. I'm extremely sentimental—I cry during movies and quite often find myself touched by life's small, simple moments. The contradiction lies in how, once I've decided a relationship needs to end, I rarely look back. I experience sadness and loss, certainly, but I become incredibly stoic. The juxtaposition is striking: how can someone so emotional and tender-hearted be so resolute when moving forward without someone they once loved deeply?

The Psychology Behind Quick Recovery

Attachment style plays a significant role here. Mine is relatively secure—not avoidant at all. When in love, I completely give myself over to the feeling. But my ability to process endings efficiently makes me question the depth of my connections.

When I watch friends struggle intensely with breakups—unable to function, consumed by grief for months—I start to wonder: if I can move on so quickly, was it ever true love? The fairy tales and media narratives we consume teach us that losing "the one" must come with terrible heartbreak and extended mourning.

I felt that devastating heartbreak with my first serious boyfriend in high school. I was torn apart—but in hindsight, I was also a teenager with hormones in chaos (it was the first and last time I ever took the Depo-Provera birth control shot). Perhaps what I interpreted as earth-shattering heartbreak was partially biochemical.

The Astrological Perspective

Those who find meaning in astrology might recognize this pattern. My Scorpio moon struggles with letting go, especially when there are unresolved issues. Yet my Aquarius influence prioritizes independence and intellectualizes emotion, always maintaining a sense of individuality. Meanwhile, the Taurus bull in me is programmed to steadily move forward, eyes on the path ahead rather than the ground already covered.

The Dark Feminine

Sometimes this characteristic reminds me that I possess a dark, shadowy energy that contrasts with my outwardly light and optimistic personality.  There's something almost primal about the ability to sever connections cleanly—a manifestation of the dark feminine that stands in stark contrast to the societal expectation that women should fall apart when relationships end.

Finding Peace with Our Process

Perhaps the truth is that there's no single "right way" to process an ending. My ability to move forward doesn't negate the depth of my love while in the relationship. It's simply my particular emotional metabolism—I process grief efficiently, integrate the lessons, and continue my journey.

True emotional maturity might not be measured by how long we grieve, but by how honestly we face our feelings and how completely we integrate the experience before moving on.

A Moment for Introspection

I invite you to reflect on your own pattern of processing endings. How do you navigate the aftermath of relationships that have run their course? Do you linger in the emotional residue, or do you turn the corner quickly? What judgments do you hold about your own process?

Consider what your pattern might reveal about your emotional intelligence, attachment style, and personal resilience. What if there's no correct timeline for moving on? What if your natural recovery rhythm—whether extended or brief—is precisely what serves your growth?

What matters most isn't how quickly or slowly we move beyond past relationships, but that we honor our authentic emotional process while continuing to open ourselves to the possibility of connection, even after disappointment.

How do you turn your corners?