I recently experienced the end of a romantic relationship. We hadn't dated for all that long, but I had grown quite attached and wasn't ready for it to end when it did. He was the first real contender I'd come across in a long while, and I wanted to see where it could go. But you don't always get to choose. Luckily, I remembered a few old standard break-up rules to get me started on the healing process:
1. Go shopping
2. Get a haircut.
3. Eat whatever the hell you want. But, then...
4. Join a gym.
I hate to say it, but the retail therapy actually really can help make you feel better. And I ate a whole cheesecake without remorse. I had already joined a gym for the dark and rainy winter months, and it felt fantastic to run hard. It took me quite a while for the haircut. I needed some time before I was ready for a fresh start.
Unfortunately, the real process beyond my simple rules was a little messier. After some quality bawling, then sniffling my way through a good week, I got good and mad. I completely forgot any reason that I ever liked him, and every annoying thing he ever did ran through my mind. Convenient and effective subconscious coping mechanism.
And I may have "acted out" a little. At least that's how I'm explaining reviving a few youthful bad habits, dressing up in a Catholic school girl uniform and making out with a 26 year old, and engaging in flirtatious correspondence with a (cute but) Republican football coach who insisted that relationships "weren't his thing" and instead argued the merits of more casual encounters.
And then I got sad. Not sad for the loss of this man in particular any more, but missing having my life intertwined with someone intelligent and caring again. My life was richer in relationship. Not easier or necessarily happier. (Have I explained that I have some issues, and nothing is easy?!) But as hard and scary as it was at times, it was alive.
Then one day out of the blue I was a little less angry and sad, and I felt the urge to finally make contact (I had been punishing him with my silence, you see). I gently explained my silence and conceded that I had made some assumptions along the way. And I threw in a reference to the fact that other men still found me attractive. (I'm not that mature.) But a weight lifted. I have done a very good job of finding peace with the end of relationships in the past, and I don't want that to change now. When I run into an old flame, I want to be able to give them a hug and feel genuine regard for them and what my time with them taught me.
Luckily, I never dove into the self doubting pit. It wasn't because I wasn't good enough. Itjust wasn't a match for whatever reason(s). Timing. Unresolved family issues. Whatever. I genuinely felt like it was His Loss. Which was very different than the monumental sinking of self esteem I experienced when a boy in high school broke up with me then parked his little black BMW outside my friend's house all summer. Glad to see we're making a little progress here and there.
The key this time? Unleash the anger. Not at anyone directly (that rarely helps). But let the confusion and disappointment and loss wash over you whenever it needs to. However you need to. And it seems to eventually wash out. I am grateful for this little bit of wisdom. And yet I still ask: I really need to learn more about ending relationships?! How about more lessons on being on the inside...
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