“Is the universe fucking with me right now?”
That was my first thought when I found myself face-to-face with my ex-boyfriend for the first time in 15 months, right in the middle of bustling St. Pancras train station in late July.
I had just arrived back in London from a long weekend in Paris, where I spent time with my sister-in-law and some friends who also just happened to be in town. Originally, I was meant to return on Sunday, but at the last minute, I decided to extend my trip and stay an extra night, which was unusual for me because I famously hate Paris. A very unpopular opinion, but to be fair, I only ever go there for work. This time, I was going into the weekend with an open mind and open to having a different experience.
The morning I was leaving for Paris, I couldn’t help but wonder if I might bump into my ex. He lives outside London but is a regular on the Eurostar, so this would be the only place our paths would ever cross unintentionally. After getting through security, I found myself scanning the crowd for him, but how often do you actually run into someone when you think you might run into them? Of course, he was nowhere to be found.
While I was in Paris, I had dinner with a girlfriend one night who was recently out of a relationship, so naturally, we spent most of the dinner talking about our respective exes. She was still in her healing phase, and so much time had passed on my end that I felt really locked in on my future. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told her, “I’m not sleeping with another man until I’ve met my person.” Still, I missed my ex, especially in the summer, because the beginning of our relationship was filled with visits to botanical gardens, hikes, swimming in reservoirs, and his home-cooked meals with ingredients from his garden.
However, I held firmly to the belief: there is someone else out there for me.
Admittedly, he and I had been in touch a few times since our breakup in April 2024. Each time he expressed wanting to see me, he missed me, and he wanted to get back together. I had to have enough willpower for both of us. “We want different things,” I reminded him earlier this year — and he agreed, albeit reluctantly. So, I offered a small concession— when I returned in the summer, if it felt right, I would reach out so we could meet for a drink on neutral territory.
When I returned to London this summer, I really had no intention of following through on that offer. What’s the point? I have to stay focused on my future. I have to prove to the universe that I’m ready for my person. I’m not sleeping with anyone. I’m not getting caught up. I know what I want. I’m staying committed to that.
Which is why it felt almost like divine intervention that the universe put him directly in my path inside St. Pancras station that Monday evening. I had just gotten off the train and was heading to the Underground trains. My mind was focused on how early I could order takeout so I could get it as soon as I arrived home—the thought of running into him again had not crossed my mind. But when I looked up to make sure I was walking in the right direction, there he was walking towards me. I wish I could’ve seen the shock on my face, but I assume it matched his. But his shock transformed into a big grin—the kind I remembered from the day we first met. I could never forget that big smile.
Was the universe testing me—or placing my future directly in my path?
/
We immediately hugged and laughed at this seemingly wild coincidence. He told me he wasn’t even supposed to be at the station that day, yet somehow everything aligned in that very moment for us to be standing face-to-face for the first time in over a year.
So when he asked if we could meet for breakfast the next morning, I said yes.
I went into it with no intention, no agenda. In truth, I felt closed off. I could feel a noticeable rigidity within my body as we sat across from each other at my favorite cafe, which I was certain was visible in my body language. But maybe it wasn’t as apparent as I thought because he asked if he could kiss me after breakfast.
It wasn’t that I felt unsafe, maybe more so that I wanted to protect myself from the pain I was still holding on to from our breakup. Yes, we had an amicable split, and we even honored it with a closing ceremony, but I have a hard time letting go of painful moments. I also carry a lot of judgment around what it means to go back to an ex — as if it would be a step backwards, or somehow undo the progress I’ve made. So, even as I sat there with him, listening to him tell me things I wish he could’ve said before we broke up, I was aware of that rigidity and actively questioning it.
Not because I was hoping for something to happen, but it felt like an important insight for me to sit with. I often find myself caught between my own arbitrary notions of what is “right” or “wrong” and the worry that taking the wrong step will lead to punishment or set me on a “doomed” path. And maybe the only way to challenge that fear was to throw a little caution to the wind—to remind myself that I can make a choice, and still be okay.
So, that’s how I ended up in bed with my ex-boyfriend on a rainy Tuesday morning.
I made it clear I wasn’t ready to get back together or pick up where we left off, but I was open to spending time together in the last few weeks I had left in England. So what exactly changed my mind? He had been in therapy. He recognized the ways he had held the relationship back from progressing. What could things look like if those roadblocks were removed? I admire anyone willing to do the work and be introspective about the patterns that keep them stuck—it feels like a pretty rare quality, especially amongst men. But I also won’t deny that our serendipitous run-in made me feel like I had to just give this another try.
By the second time we hung out, two weeks later, he took me to the beach in Seaford, and I quickly realized that it actually felt like we had never broken up. It was as if no time had passed—and we always have fun together. My defenses seemed to dissolve in the cold, salty waters of the English Channel as we swam on one of the hottest days of the summer.
From there, we slipped back into our old rhythm with ease. He brought me tea and the ginger biscuits he’d once gotten me hooked on in the mornings. I helped him harvest vegetables from the garden. And yet, the same questions that haunted me when we first dated began to resurface. Is this my person? How can I know for sure? What if this is just another test from the universe?
We had frank conversations about what it would be like to get back together. We live wildly different lives. He worries about how to blend our different lifestyles, given my transient routine compared to his very rooted life. And my fears boil down to… I’m afraid he can’t love me in the way that I need.
“Do you think anyone can love you in the way that you need?” My therapist asked me during an emergency session as I was trying to make sense of everything.
It was a question I had never considered. So much of my life, it’s been easier to long for a romance that arrives like a cure—sweeping me off my feet, healing every insecurity, making me feel whole in ways I’d never known before. I know we can’t rely on others for happiness, but there was still that part of me that longed for someone I could depend on for it. The thing that finally gives life meaning and makes me feel like, “this is what I was waiting for.” At least, that’s what I learned from all my favorite romantic comedies and love songs.
So when I was forced to get honest with myself, I could see there’s a part of me that’s looking for a romantic partner to heal—or at least help me forget—the pain of my earliest childhood wounds and the love, care, and attention I felt I didn’t receive from my parents. I feel a pressure to right their wrongs and create the relationship I never saw modeled. So, I tell myself I have to choose the “right” person. Because if I don’t, if I get it wrong, I risk repeating their unhappiness.
My therapist assured me that romantic love cannot fix the wounds of parental love.
By the end of August, some of our old issues had already begun to resurface, and it was clear we were triggering each other again.
I spent a whole afternoon uncontrollably sobbing when I didn’t like how he responded to a vulnerable text I sent him, even after he apologized. My reaction was so disproportionate to the actual situation that I eventually realized it wasn’t about his response— it was that he had rubbed up against this very young wound, and only I could tend to it and give myself the love I needed. I practiced my inner child work, and I looked at a young photo of myself, imagining myself holding and comforting her.
That same day, I came across notes in my journal I had taken during an astrology reading with Colin Bedell of Queer Cosmos, in which he said to me, “Consider the ways the universe assigns you to people (and vice versa) who have the capacity for maximum soul growth.”
It immediately made me think of my ex. Being with him has stretched me in ways I never imagined, both during our first chapter and in the last few weeks of our reunion. For years, I believed that I’d do my best healing in solitude, but it’s the mirror of a relationship that has accelerated my deepest growth. I’m actually in awe of how he reflects back where I am still stuck, where I’ve placed impossible expectations on a partner, and where I must continue to learn to love myself. I’m in awe of our emotional maturity during difficult conversations and how we stay connected through it all. We have a level of emotional and physical intimacy that I’ve never experienced before. Being in relationship reminds me again and again: I must tend to my own wounds before expecting anyone else to.
So, regardless of whether this relationship actually works out or not, I trust that reuniting with him wasn’t a “bad” decision because of what I learn about being in partnership and how it offers me a deeper look into myself. In the spirit of yesterday’s eclipse in Pisces, and with the upcoming eclipse in Virgo later this month, I’m just choosing to surrender. To trust that there is no “right” or “wrong” or “good” or “bad” here—only the path that reveals itself. If my life has taught me anything, it’s that things always work out the way they’re meant to.
What I’m Eyeing for Fall 2025
I skipped the suede jacket trend last year, but I’m ready to get on board now. DISSH Hendrix jacket, $622, dissh.com
The perfect summer-to-fall dress if I do say so myself, because I’ve already worn it. Proenza Schouler, $1,490, net-a-porter.com
I own these ME + EM jeans in ivory, and I just know I’m going to live in this brown version. ME + EM Extreme Seam jeans, $325, meandem.com.
Every bag from this brand is a standout in my collection. Liffner Belted Bucket Bag, $550, net-a-porter.com or liffner.com.
The bolero is back! The pistachio color is divine and will pair perfectly with brown. Aligne Angelina Bolero jacket, $210, aligne.co.
I never met a pleated skirt I didn’t like! J.Crew Prep Skirt, $268, jcrew.com.
Anytime I throw on a Realisation dress, I know I’m going to feel and look good. Realisation Par Ellery dress, $290, realisationpar.com.
A cashmere cableknit cardigan is a must for adding texture to a look. Polo Ralph Lauren cardigan, $285, mytheresa.com.
The only way I’ll do a ballet flat is with a little heel—I also love this square toe. Margaux Ada flats, $325, margauxny.com
