Kintsugi: Finding Beauty in the Broken Pieces
Sallie Haydock
6/3/20263 min read
Kintsugi: The Beauty of What we rebuild
A few years ago I gave a broken plate as a Christmas present. It wasn't really broken, of course. Its cracks had been repaired with gold using the Japanese art of Kintsugi. At the time I bought it because it seemed like the perfect gift for someone I cared about who had been through an incredibly difficult year.
The funny thing is, I didn't realise until much later that I wasn't just buying it for them. I was buying a philosophy that would eventually become part of my own story.
There is a Japanese art form called Kintsugi, which means "golden joinery". When a treasured bowl or vase breaks, it isn't thrown away. The pieces are carefully repaired using lacquer mixed with gold. Instead of disguising the cracks, they are highlighted, becoming part of the object's story.
The philosophy behind Kintsugi is beautifully simple: what has been broken doesn't lose its value. Sometimes it becomes even more precious because of what it has survived.
Today, that plate still sits proudly on display in our sitting room. It isn't hidden away in a cupboard because it isn't something to be ashamed of. If anything, it's a reminder of everything it represents.
I often think about that when I'm working with people navigating divorce.
One of the first things I hear is, "I never thought I'd be in this position."
Very few of us expect our lives to unfold this way. When a relationship ends, it can feel as though the future you imagined has shattered.. Along with it can come your confidence, your sense of identity and the certainty you once relied on.
It's no surprise that so many people feel ashamed.
We try to hide the cracks. We tell ourselves to be strong. We smile when we don't feel like smiling. We carry on because everyone expects us to. Meanwhile, underneath the surface, we're grieving the life we thought we'd have.
What people often describe as being "damaged", I see differently. I see beauty in its rawest form, emerging from the ashes.
Healing doesn't happen by pretending nothing has happened.
In my experience, it begins when we stop fighting the fact that our lives have changed and start asking a different question.
Who am I becoming now?
That isn't an easy question, but it's a hopeful one.
Because the people I meet don't need fixing.
They've already survived more than they ever imagined they could.
What they often need is someone who can hold hope for them until they're able to hold it for themselves. Someone to remind them that this chapter doesn't define their whole story, and that the qualities they're discovering now—strength, courage, wisdom and self-belief—may never have emerged had life remained comfortable.
I don't believe we're beautiful despite our scars.
I think they're part of what makes us who we are.
The cracks don't disappear, just as they don't in Kintsugi. They simply stop representing failure. Instead, they become evidence that we've rebuilt.
That's why the plate is still on display.
Not because it reminds me of what was broken, but because it reminds me of what was restored.
And perhaps that's the real lesson of Kintsugi.
The most beautiful things in our lives aren't always the ones that have never been broken.
Sometimes they're the ones we've had the courage to piece back together. Perhaps we're not defined by the moments that break us, but by what we choose to build afterwards.
If you're navigating divorce or another significant life transition, you don't have to do it alone.
I provide calm, confidential coaching for people who need space to think clearly, process what's happening and take their next steps with confidence. Together, we'll reduce the emotional overwhelm so you can make good decisions about what comes next.
If that sounds like the support you need, I'd love to invite you to book a complimentary 30-minute clarity call.
Contact
Reach out anytime for support or questions.
Phone
hello@mydivorcecoach.co
© 2025. All rights reserved.