I talked to his sister and asked why he wasn’t at work.

She said, “Oh, didn’t he tell you? He moved out of town. Three hours away.”

Huh? My boyfriend moved? The person I was crazy about and who said, time and again, that he was crazy about me? The person I spent most of my hours with was just … gone.

No note. No warning. No signs of unhappiness that I could tell.

Just me — confused, gutted, angry, and mostly, heartbroken.

When I finally reached him, it was brief. His responses were short, vague, distant. He said it wasn’t about me. He just needed space. He didn’t know if or when he’d return.

“It’s best we just pause things for now,” he said.

Uhh… I don’t think so.

He might have wanted to pause, but I do not give up so easily. I was going to fight for us. I sent letters. Made calls. Even showed up for a surprise visit. I tried everything to rekindle what once was. But nothing changed.

Eventually, I had to face it: the pause wasn’t temporary. It was the end.

And I was in the alchemy of change.

A process that felt awful, but that would eventually become one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Are You in the Alchemy of Career Heartbreak?

Alchemy, by its nature, is like the story of the phoenix rising from ashes — something must be destroyed for something new to emerge.

What’s left behind is what’s no longer needed … the dross.

In my case, that meant releasing a relationship that had already run its course though I just couldn’t see it until I had some distance.

I’ve seen the same thing happen in people’s careers.

When I worked as a recruiter, people often came to me in real pain. They had been laid off, fired, or blindsided by a change in their organizations or lives that they never saw coming. They felt betrayed, confused, and deeply hurt.

No surprise that the first response is not, “This is wonderful news. I can’t wait to see what’s next!”.

No. They fight for the dross.

• They hold on tighter.
• They send emails.
• They talk with former colleagues to “get the inside scoop.”
• They create positioning statements hoping leadership might rehire them.
• They meet anyone who will grab coffee.
• They complain about how unfair it all is.
• And they turn the anger inward — replaying what they should or shouldn’t have done.

Does any of this resonate?

When you’re in the alchemical fire of destruction, it’s brutal. No mantra or pep talk can make it easier. You may know transformation is happening, but that doesn’t mean it feels good.

Still, that’s the fire that forges strength, wisdom, and clarity.

In my case, the relationship heartbreak became the catalyst.

• I went to therapy.
• I learned to trust my instincts and ask more questions.
• I stopped waiting for things to fix themselves.
• I did not ignore the signs that, in hindsight, were there.

And I became stronger, wiser, and far more grounded in what I would and wouldn’t accept.

That’s the gift of the alchemical fire … it purifies.

If you’re standing in the alchemical fire of your career, I have some ideas. Try these:

🔥 The Burning Bowl – Name the dross. Then let it go. Write down all the beliefs, habits, or attachments you need to release: “I should have known,” “They were my only chance,” “I’m not enough.” Safely burn the paper and say:

“You have served me well, but I am being called to something new.”

✍️ The Clarity List – On one side, list what you’re done with (micromanagers, overwork, scarcity). On the other, what you’re ready for (freedom, respect, creativity). Seeing it on paper shifts your energy from loss to possibility.

🕊️ Spirit Check-In – Sit quietly. Place a hand on your heart and ask:

“What am I being invited to learn here?” Listen not for words, but for a subtle peace, a warmth, or a quiet knowing. That’s your next breadcrumb.

📞 If you’re standing in that fire right now, you don’t have to walk through it alone. Let’s talk. Click here to schedule a call and together, we’ll name what’s burning away and what’s waiting to be reborn.

The alchemy of heartbreak — in love or in work — always leaves you stronger, clearer, and more yourself. You may not see it yet, but transformation is already happening beneath the surface.

And when the ashes settle, you’ll rise — lighter, wiser, and ready for what’s next.