
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
“Sometimes it takes a heartbreak to shake us awake and help us see we are worth so much more than we’re settling for.“
Mandy Hale
Don’t cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won’t let you see the stars.
This article was written and contributed by Jolade
Have you ever been in love? The squishy, warm, sweet, yummy bubble you live in that makes you float literally on top of the world? You see stars when you look at them and they can simply do no wrong! You swear by all you feel, so damn sure it is for real.
The sun shines brighter, the flowers in full bloom, putting a wide smile you cannot seem to get rid of on your face, this is exactly what dreams are made of as told in the movies. Finally, you have met your person, absolute bliss, dreamy!
Flip the script…..
Have you ever had your heart broken? So much you can feel the ache in the depth of your soul? That gut wrenching feeling at the centre of your being that won’t go ease, eating away at your being. Crushing despair enveloping you as you realize your sweet little bubble of love that swore to protect you has left you exposed to the harsh elements.
It feels like your heart has been ripped out, a slap on your face. The betrayal, pain and hollowness are better imagined. You could get it really bad, losing your bearing for a while or maybe even longer.
Heartbreak is an unfortunately common part of the human experience, and it sucks, very much so. We’ve all been there, and it’s safe to say we all want to avoid experiencing heartbreak ever again.
I had my first real taste when I was 19, I couldn’t believe it. We were supposed to be the perfect couple, very much into each other, lots of PDA, what you would call relationship goals these days. But what do you do months down the line when they deny you to your face in the presence of another lady? I suddenly realized I had believed a lie all along and it was all a sham.
The sad thing about heartbreak is that if you do not heal completely, it will mess you up emotionally for a long time. It will keep manifesting in various dimensions under different guises. Heartbreaks can cause a large amount of stress, especially when it happens suddenly. This stress can affect how we feel emotionally and physically, and may take weeks, months or even years to recover from.
Love can be addictive, like a drug, because of the hormones our brain releases when we become really attached to someone or something. Dopamine and oxytocin in particular are hormones which make us feel good and want to repeat behaviors, and are released at elevated levels when we’re in love.
Then, when heartbreak happens, these hormone levels drop and are replaced with the stress hormone cortisol which is designed to support our body’s fight-or-flight response, too much cortisol over a period of time can contribute to anxiety, nausea, acne and weight gain – all those unpleasant mental and physical symptoms associated with heartbreak.
It can simply turn your life upside down, I know this for a fact because I flunked my tests and missed my classes just because!
The psychological effects may leave us feeling unworthy, unloved, despondent which can cause a decline in your general wellbeing, alienate us and alter our outlook on life. Now, we cannot and shouldn’t let that happen, should we?
So how do we mend? Where do broken hearts go?
Come out from where you have been, tell your heart to beat again!!
I wish you a love that is beautiful, memorable, and warm. Should the stars align, I wish you forever!
![]()
Cheers,
Jolade

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.

You are somewhere between forty and fifty-five. You looked in the mirror recently and had a thought you immediately dismissed. Maybe you googled something at 2am that you would never say out loud. Maybe you bought something expensive and impractical and told everyone it was an investment. Or maybe you just feel — quietly, persistently — like the life you built was supposed to feel better than this by now.

Anton Chekhov was a Russian physician and playwright — a man trained in the discipline of diagnosis before he became one of the most precise storytellers in the history of world literature. That combination of sensibilities matters, because the principle he articulated in the late nineteenth century was not merely a rule of dramatic craft. It was an observation about the nature of significance itself. About what it means for something to be present. About the relationship between introduction and consequence.

There is a prison that has no concrete walls, no iron bars, no guards posted at the gate. Nobody built it for you. Nobody sentenced you to it. And yet, for many people, it is the place they spend the better part of their lives — circling its perimeter, brushing their fingers against its invisible boundaries, and quietly retreating each time they feel the edge of something that might require more of them than they believe they can give.

Picture a hand holding sand. The tighter the grip, the faster the grains escape between the fingers. Ease the grip — open the palm, allow the hand to become a vessel rather than a vice — and the sand stays. This is one of the oldest paradoxes of leadership, and one of the least learned: that control, pursued too aggressively, produces the very loss of control it was designed to prevent.

There is a version of ambition that builds. And there is a version of ambition that consumes. From a distance — and especially from inside it — they look almost identical. Both are energetic. Both are forward-moving. Both speak the language of vision and possibility. The difference only becomes visible later, usually at the point of fracture, when what was built begins to come apart under the weight of what was promised.

There is a particular kind of organisational absurdity that most people who have ever worked in a company will recognise immediately. It is the policy that was clearly designed by someone who has never had to implement it. The restructuring that looked elegant on a slide deck and chaotic on the ground. The customer-facing process that was overhauled by a committee that has not spoken to a customer in years. The directive that arrives from above, fully formed and non-negotiable, that causes the people closest to the work to exchange a look — the kind of look that says, without words: they have no idea what we actually do here.

We have built an entire mythology around exhaustion. In boardrooms and business culture — perhaps nowhere more so than in the high-pressure, always-on professional culture many of us inhabit — busyness has become a currency. To be tired is to be serious. To be overwhelmed is to be important. To be burning out, quietly, is somehow proof that you are fully committed.

There is a particular kind of failure that never makes the headlines. It does not arrive with a scandal, a public collapse, or a dramatic resignation. It builds slowly, almost imperceptibly, in the space between what a leader sees and what they choose to say. It lives in the meetings that end without the real conversation ever starting. It grows in the silence after a poor decision goes unchallenged, not because nobody noticed, but because everyone agreed — unspokenly — that it was simply easier not to say anything.

The boardroom at Crescent Capital Partners on Victoria Island smelled of leather and ambition — the kind that had been earned, aged, and perhaps left out a little too long. Emeka Osei-Bello, Managing Director and Group CEO, sat at the head of a long mahogany table, his charcoal suit immaculate, his posture the kind that says, I built this. He had, in many ways, done exactly that.

When you stay loyal to a version of yourself that no longer exists—the one who was hurt, the one who failed, the one who was overlooked—you are still choosing. You are choosing to let one moment in time define the whole arc of your life. And that choice costs more than it keeps.
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.
Just write down some details about you and we will get back to you in a jiffy!
2 thoughts on “Dealing with a broken heart?”
Brings back fresh memories as I read through the article. Miss those memorable days but not my ex anymore. Great for curing heartbreak.
This is really helpful. God bless you for this piece ❤️