The Story Behind The Truth About Heartbreak
- Daisy Wren River

- Oct 12
- 2 min read

For years, I’ve worked in a space where people come to untangle what they feel.
Often men who have carried their emotions quietly, folded beneath layers of strength and survival.
In my work, I’ve sat across from stories of heartbreak, anger, confusion, and loss that rarely found words before. I’ve seen how pain hides in the smallest gestures; the way someone holds their breath, looks away, or clenches a fist mid-sentence.
And somewhere in the middle of all that listening, something in me started to speak.
For a long time, I didn’t. In my own life, I’d become so good at helping others explore their emotions that I’d forgotten how to sit with my own.
It wasn’t until I started personal therapy that I realised how much of my own pain had been quietly waiting, stored deep in my body, in words I hadn’t allowed to surface.
I’d been holding my breath too.
When I began to write again, it wasn’t planned. It was survival.
Each poem started as a whisper from somewhere I’d been avoiding, a place between heartbreak and healing, silence and self-understanding.
The Truth About Heartbreak grew out of those moments.
Not from the polished, well-processed parts of life, but from the messy, raw, unedited places that therapy gently uncovered.
It became both a reflection and a release. A way of saying, “This is what it feels like when you start to feel again.”
Working with men who are learning to process their emotions has shown me something powerful:
Pain doesn’t care about gender, and neither does healing.
We all build walls around our hearts when the world teaches us to be strong, but sometimes strength is learning to open up. To speak. To write. To cry.
Through poetry, I found my own way to do that. And my hope is that The Truth About Heartbreak helps others, men and women alike, find language for what’s been unsaid.
When I write now, it isn’t only about heartbreak. It’s about connection. It’s about permission to feel, and the quiet bravery it takes to face the parts of ourselves we’ve avoided.
If my words reach even one person sitting in that space, not sure how to move through their pain, then every line has been worth it.
Because that’s what this book really is. A bridge between my healing and yours.


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