After my recent breakup, 95 percent of the comments that people have made to me have been loving, supportive and wonderful.
And then there were the ones that were not. Well-meaning? Sure. But not helpful.
One person, for instance, called my Asian ex-boyfriend a “fortune cookie-roller.” Racism? Not helpful. One of my girl friends read his Facebook page and proceeded to tell me all the books and movies he likes that signify he’s a loser. Dissing the man I (still) love? Not helpful.
After the jump, 11 more things you should think twice, and then three times, about saying to a woman who has just been dumped. Keep reading »
Of all the aspects that were difficult about my recent breakup from my boyfriend of two years, the hardest was moving out of the apartment that we shared together. You can verbally say all kinds of things: we’re broken up, we’re on a break, we’re seeing other people, whatever. Those words might change from day to day. But pulling your sundresses off the closet hangers feels final. Same goes for taking your face wash out of the shower. I built a life, a relationship, with someone and then all of a sudden, it was just my things in an apartment that was now his. Keep reading »
In the weeks since my breakup, I have tried to be gentle with myself and practice self-care. I’m not always so good at self-care; normally I’m the type of person who says “should” a lot. I should watch this intellectual documentary. I should watch the news instead of a “Jersey Shore” marathon. It’s hard for me to just let loose and have fun. But I’m trying to give myself permission to do whatever it is I feel like doing that feels good! I’ve slept 10 hours a night and taken naps in the afternoon. I’ve baked chocolate chip cookies — twice. I’ve watched God-knows-how-many movies and episodes of “Skins,” season two, on Netflix Instant. I’ve squashed that little voice in my head that says, “You’re annoying them!” and called my best girl friends when I’ve needed to talk. I’ve even gone to a yoga class. I have to say that even though I don’t feel 100 percent better, I’m doing a decent job of distracting myself. But I know I’m not the only one who needs distracting: tons of Frisky commentors have told me they are going through breakups right now, too. So, in the spirit of self-care, I hereby give you permission to do any of the following things. If you’ve just gone through a breakup, it’s totally OK to … Keep reading »
For nearly two years I was with the man I thought I was going to marry, have children with and spend the rest of my life with. I loved him so all-consumingly that I worried about his death. Driving on highways or flying on airplanes, it didn’t matter; I just thought of what risks it posed to him and how terribly in pain I would feel if he were ever to be gone from my life. Even though I felt a bit silly worrying about him, I couldn’t help myself. We used to say we were half of each other. He would say to me that he couldn’t wait to grow old with me. We were intimately close and open with each other in a way I’ve never been before and in a way I know I won’t find easily again.
He broke up with me after New Year’s suddenly and without warning. Now, I marvel at how quickly it’s taken me to fall out of love with him. How very, very odd it is to look inside myself to see if there’s any little bit that still loves him after what he’s done to me. Keep reading »
In the past three days, I have been suddenly and unexpectedly broken up with by my boyfriend of almost two years and asked to move out of the apartment that we have shared for a year and a half. The past few days have been horrible and sad, but mostly filled with dread about the uncertainty of the future. It feels like a nightmare that I am going to wake up from; a few times I’ve asked myself if I lost my mind a la “Black Swan” and this reality isn’t real. This morning I stood in line at Starbucks and pulled back the pinky finger on my hand, bent it so far until it hurt. Okay, I thought, I must be awake and alive. This must actually be my life. I don’t know how it is that I have put on pants every day, brushed my teeth, written emails, written blogs posts, done my laundry, and eaten food. My heart feels so bad I can’t believe I’m not glued to my bedsheets. Maybe I’m just in so much disbelief that I am numb. Keep reading »
At some point, most of us reach a point where we’ve been dumped and dumped someone. Generally, I think people tend to fall into one camp or the other. Personally, I tend to prefer to let the other person do the dumping — color me passive-aggressive! — but in a few cases I’ve done the dumping. There is only one thing to be said about getting dumped: It sucks. Doing the dumping, on the other hand, I’ve found, is a bit more of a grab bag. In a way, it’s better, because you’re the one calling the shots, and I think dumping someone tends to leave the dumper feeling less, well, victimized. On the other hand, if you’re going to end a relationship, you better be damn sure you’re sure about that. Being the dumper entails greater responsibility. So, are you more often a dumper or a dumpee? Do you think one is easier than the other? What do you think is the best way to dump someone and to get dumped — or is that like asking what’s the best way to fall on your head? Tell us, Frisky readers, in the comments. Keep reading »