In my last relationship, I learned a whole lot about what love isn’t. I’m not bitter but I’m still angry. I’m angry but I am ultimately grateful for the lesson. I am grateful for the lesson but am pissed I had to go through any pain at all to discover what I already knew to be true to myself. I am not president of the Wounded Deer Foundation and do not have the time to tend to someone who is bleeding all over the place without alarm, recourse, or apology. I lost 15 pounds that I am anxiously trying to get back. I stopped writing. I thought my stomach pain was adjusting to being in a relationship in general without assessing whether or not that relationship was serving me. I haven’t thrown up since the relationship ended. I poured solely into my caregiver cup and mistook that for pouring into my own. My birthday was ruined because of their inability to let me be bright and shiny in other people’s gazes. I left my own party to call my mom to ask how to calmly disarm emotional instability so that I didn’t contribute to the scene that was being created. I have never seen my friends so angry. I am still regaining my footing. I am not sad. My life is bursting with love and color. I couldn’t avoid joy if I wanted to. I am trying my hardest to move on and hold steadfast in my belief that real love should be easy. And I know this because I feel that with my friends every day. Ease. Not butterflies, which I think can be seen as a good thing while in reality, your body is maybe telling you you cannot settle in here. But just because I am not sad does not mean I am not hurt, and I am allowed to be hurt. I can dwell a little, even. I can survey the pieces of my life without rushing to smash them together. I have time. And my community reminds me again and again and again that I have time. Time to fuck up and hold myself accountable for the harm I have caused. Time to define love in a way that transcends language. And I communicate what I need and I do not have to beg. I don’t even have to raise my voice.
I’ve been collecting questions and answers about breakup survival over this week on my instagram. I have been provided with some of the most thoughtful and helpful responses and exercises as we collectively work to mend our broken hearts and I am so excited to share them. I think we should talk more openly about our hearts being broken- I don’t think it’s embarrassing to admit that something didn’t work out and to talk about the aftermath. I think we should be doing that more, actually- if only to remind one another that we are never isolated in our experiences.
On reimagining yourself in the wake of a breakup, when you feel like your identity is irreparably shattered because the tether has been cut: it may take you a minute to get back to yourself and that is okay! You are allowed to grieve who you thought you were and what your life was going to be. Make a list of all of the parts of yourself that you love and are proud of that your ex didn’t honor or approve of. Celebrate them louder. Take yourself out- go to the movies, bring a book to a bar, take art classes, rediscover a childlike joy (swings, legos, coloring, puzzles), do something that scares you a little (perform at an open mic, take a figure drawing class, try an intricate recipe). Don’t text them. Get really into buzzfeed quizzes, reinstate your tumblr, quiz yourself on how many countries you can name on sporcle, take a walk, see a movie, and if you get the urge text your friend something you love about them instead. Trust your friends when they say they are here for you and TAKE THEM UP ON IT.