I was broken, but these 10 habits helped me move forward again

by Lachlan Brown | May 13, 2026, 10:55 am

There was a time in my life when I felt completely broken. The details don’t matter as much as the experience itself—the sense of loss, the weight of failure, the quiet moments when I questioned whether I could ever put myself back together again. If you’ve ever felt shattered by life, you know what I mean.

When you’re broken, even getting out of bed can feel like climbing a mountain. The future looks uncertain. The past feels heavy. And the present? It feels unbearable.

But here’s what I’ve learned: being broken isn’t the end of your story. It can be the beginning of something new. Not an instant transformation, but a slow, deliberate process of rebuilding. I didn’t bounce back overnight. I stumbled, fell, and got up again. And slowly, I found habits that helped me move forward—not perfectly, but steadily.

In this article, I want to share 10 of those habits. They aren’t quick fixes. They won’t erase pain. But they can help you breathe again, stand again, and eventually move forward with strength you didn’t know you had.

1. Allowing myself to actually feel the pain

For a long time, I tried to outrun my suffering. I filled my days with distractions—work, social media, even exercise—but at night the pain always came back stronger. What changed everything was the simple (but terrifying) act of sitting with it. Letting myself cry. Letting the grief wash over me. Accepting that being broken is part of being human.

The first step forward isn’t avoidance—it’s acknowledgment.

2. Reconnecting with my body

When life fell apart, I lived in my head. Thoughts spun endlessly, replaying past mistakes and obsessing about the future. I started small: walks outside, stretching in the morning, mindful breathing.

Gradually, I worked up to running again. Moving my body grounded me. It reminded me that no matter how heavy my mind felt, I could still put one foot in front of the other.

3. Turning to mindfulness and Buddhist principles

Mindfulness became my anchor. Instead of being consumed by thoughts of “what if” and “why me,” I learned to gently bring myself back to the present moment. Breath by breath. Step by step.

This practice not only calmed my nervous system but gave me the perspective to see that pain is part of the bigger picture of life. The Buddhist principle of impermanence—that nothing lasts forever—reminded me that even my darkest moments would eventually pass.

4. Writing things down instead of holding them in

Journaling became my therapy. Some days I wrote angry words. Other days I wrote about gratitude. Many times I just scribbled nonsense. But the act of putting pen to paper kept me from drowning in unspoken emotions. It gave my pain somewhere to go.

5. Saying no to toxic people

When I was broken, I realized how much my environment mattered. Some people drained me further with gossip, judgment, or subtle criticism. I had to make hard choices to distance myself. It wasn’t about cutting people out in anger—it was about protecting what little energy I had left.

If you’re in a fragile place, pay attention to who leaves you feeling lighter and who leaves you feeling heavier.

6. Practicing the art of small wins

When you feel shattered, big goals can seem impossible. So I stopped aiming for perfection. Instead, I focused on one small win a day. Cleaning my apartment. Cooking a healthy meal. Replying to an email I’d been avoiding. These weren’t life-changing, but they built momentum. Over time, small wins stacked up into real progress.

7. Rebuilding my mornings

I used to wake up and immediately check my phone. Bad habit. It primed me for stress before I even had coffee. When I rebuilt my mornings, I chose three simple rituals: drink water, stretch, and write one line in my journal. These habits didn’t magically solve my problems, but they gave me a foundation of calm to face each day.

8. Asking for help (and actually receiving it)

For someone who prides himself on independence, this was the hardest. But when I finally opened up to friends, family, and mentors, I discovered people actually wanted to help. Not everyone knew the “right thing” to say, but their presence mattered. Asking for help isn’t weakness—it’s how we stay connected to our humanity.

9. Creating space for joy, even when it felt undeserved

When I was broken, I felt guilty for smiling or laughing. Like enjoying life meant I wasn’t taking my pain seriously enough. Over time, I realized joy is not a betrayal of your suffering—it’s a lifeline. Watching a funny show, playing music, or cooking a meal I loved gave me moments of light in the darkness. Those moments were enough to keep me going.

10. Trusting that brokenness is not the end of the story

Perhaps the most important habit wasn’t anything I did, but what I believed: that being broken didn’t mean being finished. My cracks became my strength. They reminded me that life isn’t about staying polished—it’s about learning to grow through what we go through.

Final thoughts

If you feel broken right now, know this: it’s not permanent. You are not your worst moment. The habits that helped me heal—feeling, moving, writing, connecting, protecting, and trusting—are not extraordinary. They’re simple, human acts.

And sometimes, simple is enough.

Lachlan Brown

Lachlan Brown is an entrepreneur and co-founder of Brown Brothers Media, a digital publishing network reaching tens of millions of readers monthly. He holds a Graduate Diploma of Psychological Studies from Deakin University, though his real education came afterward: a warehouse job shifting TVs, a stretch of anxiety in his mid-twenties, and the slow discovery that studying the mind is not the same as learning how to live well. He started experimenting with Buddhist principles during breaks at the warehouse and eventually began writing about what he was learning. That writing became Hack Spirit, a widely read personal development site, and his book Hidden Secrets of Buddhism became a bestseller. His work breaks down complex ideas into frameworks people can apply immediately, whether they are navigating a career change, a difficult relationship, or the gap between knowing what to do and actually doing it. Lachlan splits his time between Singapore and Saigon. He writes about high-performance routines, decision-making under pressure, digital innovation, and the intersection of Eastern philosophy with modern life. His perspective comes from having built things from scratch, failed at some of them, and learned that clarity comes from practice, not theory.