Catalysts in Life and Love

A rocket requires immense energy to launch into space. Once the initial boosters are depleted, they detach and sink into the ocean, no longer needed. These components serve solely as catalysts, providing the necessary lift before they are left behind.

In world record running attempts, pacemakers—often called "rabbits"—are employed. These skilled runners set the pace for the race but never aim to finish first. After fulfilling their role, they step back, having served their purpose as catalysts, only to be sidelined afterward.

I have often felt like a catalyst in the relationships of others.

My journey began with my own long-term partnerships. Throughout my adult life, I’ve had two significant relationships that spanned a total of ten years—five years in my early twenties (ages 19-24) and another five years as I transitioned into my thirties (ages 26-31). I’ve always held high expectations for myself, and this ambition naturally extended to my romantic life. I sought partners who were equally driven and who aspired for more from life. The reasons for our breakups are irrelevant; I even attempted to maintain friendships with these men after we drifted apart.

I was the one who chose to end these relationships. I felt unfulfilled and yearned for something beyond what they could offer. There was nothing inherently wrong with either man; I simply couldn’t envision a lifelong future with them. In hindsight, I might have handled things differently, but such realizations only come with time.

The reality is that my decisions affected them deeply. I found myself blaming myself for the distress I caused these kind and gentle men. I felt remorse for the mental health struggles they faced afterward, as if I had unearthed buried traumas. While they seemed okay during our time together, they faltered in my absence. I perceived myself as a negative catalyst, causing chaos instead of growth.

Despite being the initiator, I experienced my own pain. I healed more swiftly than they did, as I didn’t grapple with severe mental health challenges. Yes, I cried and processed my emotions, but I always managed to pick myself back up quickly. I’ve always been resilient, optimistic about the future even in the face of hurt.

However, I didn’t move on instantly. After my divorce, finding a meaningful relationship proved to be a significant challenge. It was incredibly difficult.

I found myself in several situationships, believing each time that I had discovered my forever partner. What I truly desire is a deep bond and commitment; casual dating feels tedious to me. I yearn for the excitement of building a shared life with someone.

Over the past four years of being single, I have transformed into a different kind of catalyst, and it has been painful.

I have loved men who proclaimed they weren’t ready for a relationship. They often were—just not with me. After a few months, they would leave, taking their affections elsewhere. I felt like a mere stepping stone.

One particularly promising relationship led me to believe I had found my soulmate. Yet, he returned to his ex, a relationship that had spanned nearly a decade. Although I felt heartbroken, we eventually became gym buddies, and while our connection is now platonic, I cherish the friendship we’ve formed. I was the catalyst that reunited him with his ex, and despite the pain, I still want him in my life. I’ve cried over him, written letters filled with frustration, and practiced forgiveness through meditation, enabling me to accept our current friendship.

At one point, I mourned my capacity to love. I have so much to offer, yet I often find myself cast aside as a catalyst once my role is fulfilled.

Being the one left behind can be excruciating. It was painful then, and it still is.

But what if I embrace the idea that I possess the ability to inspire change in others? What if I choose to harness this power positively?

Two years ago, I met a bodybuilder on Tinder. We enjoyed a few coffee dates and walks, but I didn’t feel a strong connection, so I didn’t pursue it further. I did invite him to be a guest on my health-related podcast.

Unexpectedly, my best friend became intrigued by his story and they began chatting on Instagram. She eventually asked if she could date him, and I encouraged her. They are now happily married with a one-year-old daughter.

They have completely transformed their lives and are the most inspiring couple I know. They proactively seek marriage counseling to strengthen their relationship, believing wholeheartedly in self-improvement and open communication. My sister often finds them endearingly annoying for their commitment to growth.

Just today, I attended an event where everyday individuals share their personal stories. I have lifetime access since I’ve spoken on that stage twice. One man shared his struggles with mental health and how he created a loving family despite his diagnosis. He even credited me for introducing him to the right partner. I realized I had facilitated something beautiful, bringing two remarkable people together. Tears filled my eyes as I reflected on this.

I am a catalyst.

Even though it sometimes feels like I’m left with nothing, that isn’t entirely true. I trust that life will reward me in time. There is love and hope ahead for me. If two of my dear friends are thriving, that is not emptiness.

I have contributed positively. The man on stage—my influence. A brave friend shared her vulnerable stories regarding eating disorders and motherhood—she followed my lead. A former colleague left a job she despised to start anew—thanks to my encouragement. A friend completed her manuscript and published a book—she did it through my online course, where she was a beta tester.

I am a catalyst, and I can endure the fall from the rocket because I excel at picking up the pieces and reshaping them into something stronger, more resilient, and more beautiful.