The Year Everything Fell Apart (And How I Put It Back Together)

It started with a bang—or maybe more of a slow, muffled implosion. You know that moment in Jenga where it’s clear the tower’s about to topple, but you keep pulling out pieces anyway, pretending things will somehow stay intact? That was my 12 months of 2022. By the time January 2023 rolled around, I was standing in the ruins of my carefully constructed life, holding my metaphorical game piece, thinking, “Well. That escalated quickly.”

The end of a long-term relationship. An existential career crisis. A health scare that left me Googling herbal remedies at 3 a.m. while eating Nutella out of the jar like some post-apocalyptic Bridget Jones. My life was the rom-com montage without the promise of a happy ending. But here’s the thing about rock bottom: The only way out is up. And, as it turns out, rebuilding—messy and humbling as it is—is where all the magic happens.

1. The Breakup That Broke (and Saved) Me

They say every breakup teaches you something about yourself. My lesson? I’d spent years trying to be "the perfect partner"—supportive, agreeable, never too needy, and always willing to compromise. So when my five-year relationship ended abruptly (over text, no less), I didn’t just lose a person; I lost the identity I’d carefully crafted around being "his person."

If my life were a dramatized Netflix series, this would’ve been the point where I slumped into a tear-soaked couch while a soulful ballad swelled in the background. But in reality, what came after were little, raw moments of clarity. Like realizing I hadn’t liked rom-coms in years—or that I’d stopped cooking koshari, my favorite dish from back home, because my ex didn’t like the smell of fried onions. I had erased small, Zahra-shaped pieces of myself to make the relationship “work.” The breakup didn’t just break me; it broke me open.

Rebuilding Tip: Take stock of your life post-breakup, and ask yourself, "What have I been pretending to love? What have I been neglecting that feels me?" Then unapologetically reclaim it. For me, that meant weekly koshari nights and playing Umm Kulthum at full volume, even if my neighbors thought I was hosting a 1960s Egyptian karaoke contest.

2. Burnout, Parisian Style (or, Why Running Away Is an Underrated Life Strategy)

When my relationship fizzled out, my career was already circling the drain. Working in women’s advocacy had always been my calling, but somewhere between back-to-back conferences and emotional burnout, the passion had turned into pressure. My boss called it “falling short on targets”; my therapist called it “an impending nervous breakdown.” I called it “Googling remote cabins in Iceland while sitting through another Zoom call.”

Instead of Iceland, I booked a solo trip to Paris—a city I knew and loved but hadn’t visited in years. I ate croissants on the Seine, sipped overpriced wine while pretending to read Sartre, and wandered little streets that felt like forgotten corners of an old life. Did it fix everything? Not at all. But it reminded me that there’s life outside the hustle, that clarity sometimes comes in moments of stillness, and that it’s absolutely okay to press pause when the pressure becomes too much.

Rebuilding Tip: When life feels unmanageable, take a break—even a micro one. You don’t need to escape to Paris (though I highly recommend it). Go for a weekend road trip, spend an afternoon hiking, or even just sit in a coffee shop with your phone on airplane mode and pretend you don’t exist for an hour. Clarity doesn’t come when you force it. Let it sneak up on you.

3. When Health Scares Happen: The Art of Freaking Out Productively

There’s nothing like a doctor furrowing their brow mid-consultation to make you reevaluate your priorities. Without going into the nitty-gritty, let’s just say that after months of ignoring symptoms (because who has time for self-care when you’re busy imploding?), I found myself in a medical whirlwind, learning words like “biopsy” and “lifestyle overhaul” faster than I could pronounce them.

I’ll admit it: My first reaction was full-on panic mode. Cue exhaustive WebMD rabbit holes, Googling “natural cures” like I was auditioning for the role of a mystic healer, and calling my mother every 15 minutes for “just one more prayer.” But after the initial shock, I realized something: My body wasn’t betraying me; it was begging for attention. And honestly, I’d been ignoring its red flags even before the chaos of 2022.

Rebuilding Tip: Health isn’t just an emergency priority. Build it into your everyday rhythm. I invested in non-negotiables: regular health checkups, meal prepping my mother’s soup recipes, and yoga classes that made me feel like human origami. And when life gets messy again (because it will), I’ll know to put my well-being near the top of my to-do list.

4. Building a Life in Fragments

Here’s the thing no one tells you about falling apart: You don’t just rebuild all at once. You do it piece by piece, decision by decision, learning to enjoy the weird mosaic that starts to form.

For me, rebuilding looked like this: - In Love: I stopped treating myself like some fixer-upper version of a perfect partner. I stopped looking for quick solutions and started enjoying my own company in ways I’d never tried before. (Solo movie nights! Painting classes! An embarrassing number of bad rom-coms.) - In Work: I didn’t quit outright. Instead, I started writing fiction again—the kind that reminded me why I fell in love with storytelling long before my career ate me alive. - In Life: I had to relearn who I was outside of roles I’d outgrown. I gave myself permission to be curious—to try new hobbies, make new friends, and embrace the awkwardness of finding footing again.

What I’ve Learned About Falling Apart (And Why It’s a Gift in Disguise)

Looking back, the hardest part of my year—the heartbreaks, the burnout, the googling “best hospital samosas near me” from a waiting room—wasn’t the pain; it was sitting with myself and accepting life as it was: messy, imperfect, and entirely mine to rebuild.

If you’re in your own version of a “Falling Apart Year,” here’s your reminder: Growth doesn’t come from pretending you’re fine or waiting for the perfect time to craft “the new you.” It comes from facing the mess head-on, showing up for yourself in tiny, meaningful ways, and daring to believe that this isn’t the end of your story—just a plot twist.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pot of koshari simmering on my stove and Umm Kulthum serenading me in the background. I may not have all the pieces back in place, but that’s okay. Some of the best things in life come from starting over.