Tonight, my heart breaks for my baby girl. She’s facing her first breakup, and I’m struggling to find the right words to comfort her. This feels different now. By the time she walks into school tomorrow, everyone will know, and she’ll move through her day surrounded by her friends—who will love and support her—but she’ll still be nursing a wound that hurts deeper than she thought possible. I remember that feeling all too well. There’s nothing worse than that emptiness—the ache that starts in your chest and spreads to every part of you. It’s a pain like no other, one that can leave you confined to your bed or your darkened room, lost in sadness for days, months, or even years. You feel alone, trying to grasp the fact that not all breakups happen because someone was "bad"—sometimes it’s simply that they weren’t the right fit for you. Not because they didn’t care, but because they couldn’t love you in the way you needed. In many ways, I think these kinds of breakups—the ones wit...