The Black Hole Within: Filling the Void and Finding True Love

In this deeply personal and reflective episode, I share my journey of how childhood wounds shaped my adult relationships—and how I learned to break free from painful patterns.

I revisit the book Women Who Love Too Much by Robin Norwood, which first opened my eyes over 20 years ago to the impact of childhood dysfunction on love and relationships. That discovery led me to ACA (Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families) groups, therapy, and an initial sense of healing. But marriage and the challenges of family life reawakened old traumas, plunging me into over a decade of chaos, fear, and emotional pain.

I describe how my inner world was split between two selves: one desperately longing for love and safety, and another terrified of the pain that love brought. This painful push-and-pull cycle left me dependent on my partner’s moods for a sense of security and worth.

What changed everything was an awakening—through spirituality, self-development, and meditation—that shifted both my relationship and my understanding of love. I realized that the emptiness inside, the “black hole” of unmet childhood needs, cannot be filled by someone else. Instead, healing comes from giving ourselves what we lacked: love, compassion, acceptance, and forgiveness. As we do this, the walls built from past beliefs begin to dissolve, and relationships naturally transform.

The episode also connects back to my earlier discussion on “addiction to chemical patterns in relationships” but expands with new insights on how childhood traumas create both a longing and a block to receiving love. I encourage listeners to explore their earliest relationships with parents, to identify their own “black hole,” and to begin the inner work of healing from within.

Finally, I share the importance of awareness, stillness, and self-love, and I invite listeners to join me in an upcoming conversation with coach Bryan Power, who will guide us deeper into understanding attachment styles and how they influence our connections.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to UR a CURE: Inner Power podcast. 

Our adult life is often a reflection of our childhood. Whatever we experience as children, whatever we grow accustomed to, we tend to duplicate in adulthood. The book that changed my life and set me on a path of healing and working through past traumas was Women Who Love Too Much by Robin Norwood. I read this book over 20 years ago, in my early twenties. It was my wake-up call. In the women’s stories, I saw myself. I said to myself, I have to go to an ACA group to stop repeating the same patterns and carrying the same beliefs and pain into my future family and children. I didn’t have children then, but I hoped to one day.

And I did it. I went to an ACA counsellor, who then suggested I join an ACA group. I attended for nine months. At the time, I thought I was cured. I felt amazing—my self-confidence returned, and I noticed people starting to like me. While attending the group, I also began postgraduate studies in journalism, which I absolutely loved. I felt on top of the world. I got engaged, and I was studying something that brought me pride and joy. I loved writing, interviewing fascinating people, and producing radio shows. For those nine months, my life felt like a fairytale. I was genuinely happy, and I even made wonderful friends from the group—kind and open-hearted people I will never forget.

I shared the insights and knowledge I gained from ACA with my fiancé. I even gave him a few of my books, thinking he, too, came from a dysfunctional home. But he shrugged it off, saying that his family was perfectly normal.

We got married and moved to Ireland a month after the wedding. And then…the reality hit. All the traumas resurfaced. All the pain, a hundred times over, came flooding back.

The chaos, the constant feeling of uncertainty, the sense of powerlessness, and the confusion of not understanding why my partner treated me with no respect, no love, and no support whatsoever—this was the reality of my life for more than ten years. My children were forced to grow up in the same hell that both my husband and I had once endured in our own childhoods: a home filled with fights, control, and fear.

This was never the life I dreamed of, nor the future I wanted for my family. I had promised myself long ago that I would never pass down these painful traumas to my children. Yet, despite my determination, they were pulled into the very darkness I had hoped to shield them from. Unfortunately, they endured difficult, painful times that no child should ever have to face.

Only five years ago, something changed. I had an awakening. The tension between my partner and me lifted. Everything became quieter and softer; the world was slowing down, and so were we. I opened up to the spiritual world, and he did too. We were working on ourselves. I worked on my traumas, and he did on his.

Now, our conversations revolved around self-development, patterns from the past, and lessons we need to learn in the present that began long ago. We discussed symbols from dreams. Meditation was a game changer for both of us. I remember, after the first meditation, feeling a happiness and lightness settle in my chest. I was changing, and so was my partner. Respect and love became frequent guests in our relationship.

What I want to discuss in this episode is connected to ‘Love Wasn’t What I Thought It Was’

 one of my previous episode on relationships that I recorded a few weeks ago. I’d like to add more context and details because since then, I’ve gained deeper insights and learned new things. Hopefully, this will help you too.

If you haven’t heard that episode, it was about addiction to chemical reactions—substances in our bodies that originate from our childhood dysfunctions and that we now duplicate in adult life because we are addicted to them. That’s how I saw it a few weeks ago. Since then, my understanding of the whole problem has shifted somewhat. 

We all have wounds from the past. There was a lack of something—something so important that now we have a huge hole, a vacuum that has formed. To fill this void, we look for someone to make that emptiness disappears. We want to find that one solid person who can make us feel whole.

For instance, maybe we lived in constant fear. That fear might have come from a parent who was unpredictable, or even aggressive—verbally or physically. It might have come from a lack of love or acceptance—perhaps we were never truly accepted, or only parts of us were accepted while other aspects were categorically dismissed and rejected. Those energetic holes, which you can imagine as black holes in space, keep pulling and attracting whatever is missing. In this case, it could be safety or love.

This would be true—if only we didn’t have past experiences that built our beliefs, brick by brick, experience by experience. This wall of belief is now constructed around that black hole inside us. So, there is this pull from the vacuum, from the black hole, but the wall of beliefs—the idea that we don’t deserve love, that we cannot be accepted, that the person who is supposed to love us is actually our enemy—blocks us from receiving what we lack and desire. This wall of beliefs contradicts and prevents us from receiving love or safety. It’s as if you possess a powerful magnet that draws in everything you long for—love, closeness, acceptance. Yet, at the same time, there’s an invisible shield around you, made up of deep-seated beliefs: that love is painful, or that you don’t truly deserve it. So even as you crave connection, this invisible barrier pushes love away, leaving you trapped in a cycle of yearning and disappointment.

So, we find ourselves craving love, but everything in our body says that love is pain. That’s where I was for over ten years. I lived in this chaos, torn between the pull—I love this person—and the reality of my actions, always hitting the wall of my beliefs. There were two distinct personalities within me: one acted out of lack, desperately wanting love and safety, and the other tried to escape the inevitable pain that love brought. One day, I would see my partner as the most lovable, caring, and sweet person in the world. But if I got triggered by a snappy comment or a raised voice, I would shut down emotionally. I’d stop talking, go silent—but inside, I felt pain, horror, a storm of mixed emotions: anger, fear, betrayal, hurt. I kept distancing myself, but deep down, that first personality was screaming for help. This hole burned inside me, crying out for love. I longed for him to notice what was happening within me, to kiss me, to say he was sorry and that everything would be okay.

That was my world back then. It felt as though two conflicting personalities—two separate identities—were tearing me apart inside. I lived in a constant state of hyper-awareness, carefully studying his moods, trying to read every hidden meaning in the expression on his face. When he smiled, I immediately asked, “Why?” When he sighed, I quickly followed with, “What’s wrong?”

He had become my only source of hope—for love, for safety, for acceptance—and because of that, I felt I had to constantly monitor where I stood with him. Am I safe right now? Do I still have his love? Or has it disappeared again? 

This endless questioning consumed me, leaving me with no stable ground to stand on, always measuring my worth through his shifting emotions.

Everything that I touched upon on the previous episode on being addicted to certain patterns, certain highs and lows of relationships is still valid. Each personality (one that was longing for love, and the other one who was afraid of it) they both were used to certain feelings, certain bodily reactions. This is how I felt during the childhood so that was something that I knew, they were like traits of those two personalities. 

Awareness and stillness are the medicines. Knowledge is too. You need to ask yourself questions: What is my hole? What was missing from my childhood? What was so painful that it burned this hole in me?

You also need to look for clues in your relationships with the opposite sex. If you are a man, examine your relationship with your mother. Was she controlling? Cold and emotionally unavailable? Maybe too strict and demanding? If you are a woman was your father aggressive, maybe he wasn’t there for you, either physically or emotionally. Maybe he was only giving you some form of acceptance when you achieved something? 

You need to figure out what it is that you want so much—what your black hole is attracting—and recognize that the very thing blocking you from getting it are the pains and traumatic experiences you went through when what you craved most was taken away from you. Then don’t! Don’t look for it anywhere outside of yourself. This is your hole, and only you can fill it. When you give yourself love, acceptance, compassion, kindness, and forgiveness, those walls start to shrink. Your body and mind begin to recognize that you can receive love and safety—that nothing is wrong. You remove one block, then another, and the hole becomes smaller. Everything starts mending and healing.

Do you know that only you can truly fix this? It’s about feeling the emotions within yourself. No one else can feel them for you—you need to feel them firsthand. You need to feel love for yourself. Your partner cannot make you feel love; what truly transforms you is what you independently feel inside, not what someone else feels for you.  When you are filled with whatever was missing, this black hole transforms into a shining star. You begin to shine brightly, and you no longer need the personality that desperately craved love, acceptance, and safety. Nor do you need the personality that was afraid of love, because the wall is gone. You now have countless examples in your life showing you that love is kind and does not create pain.

This is where transformation becomes truly magnificent—like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, shedding its old self and spreading vibrant wings to soar freely into a new life. You heal yourself, and in doing so, your relationship also heals and evolves. The positive changes within you ripple outward, nurturing the connection you share with your partner.

We still talk about transformation and healing, but I am now prioritizing my own well-being, allowing the relationship to become something we care for together, rather than something that defines me. This balance gives each of us the space to continue growing while appreciating our shared journey.

Recently, I re-read the book that first changed my life—Women Who Love Too Much—and discovered new layers of meaning I hadn't understood before. It was as if I was meeting the book again for the first time, but with a deeper, more compassionate perspective. I am so grateful for this book, and if you recognize yourself in my story, I strongly recommend reading it. You don't have to navigate this path alone—reach out for help and support from people who have experienced what you are facing now. Seek out support groups, experienced counselors, or coaches. There is no need to remain in a state of chaos; transformation, healing, and peace are possible.

Also, observe your emotions and thoughts when you are in a relationship. Cultivating awareness is everything—it’s the key to transforming not just yourself, but the way you love and relate to others.

I will soon be joined by Bryan Power, a coach and an expert in Integrated Attachment Theory in relationships. He will guide us in exploring what the different attachment styles are, how they show up in our lives, and, most importantly, how you can begin to help yourself create healthier and more fulfilling connections.