I threw away the only man who ever loved me, who I was in love with. I realize that this statement must elicit a bunch of questions. Ten years later, I still can't process, make sense of, or come to peace with this loss. I am alone and lonely, so much that it is slowly but surely eating me alive, day in and day out, from the inside out.
Being a good partner sometimes means renegotiating communication strategies so that the question "What's wrong?" isn't perpetually sloughed off. It sometimes means breathing through a bad few months and saying, "I accept this, I can do this, I don't have to fight it," even as you keep fighting for the relationship itself.
Fourteen months. Fourteen months is the time I have in my head for how long I would try to save my marriage if things started to go south (hopefully it will never come to that). But once we limp past the one year mark, I think I would rationally assess whether something has shifted so irrevocably in our relationship that it was time to take it off life support.
As a men's image consultant, it is my job to transform men into their genuine selves, not the men society demands. When I first met Ted, he talked about his failed marriage and his imminent divorce. He said he numbed out and lost 20 pounds of muscle after his wife told him about her affair. Ted was a wounded man but he was ready to change. He just didn't know how.
A smart girl knows that getting dumped by your boyfriend is rarely a pleasant experience. It leaves some women angry, jaded and bitter. But that shouldn't justify committing these five breakup no-noes. Instead here are five alternatives to express how you really feel after getting dumped. After all, there's only one way for a smart girl to handle a breakup: with dignity, style and class.
In the weeks after my first real heartbreak, I made an effort to spend time with my ex in a misguided attempt to prove that, despite being brutally dumped, I was still awesome. He couldn't care less; he had already started dating someone else. But being around the source of my rage was eating me alive.
The zen master in me wants to put on a soothing voice and say that everything happens for a reason, that we learn from our pasts, and that pain can be a teacher. But let's talk instead about the ways of doing it with class; ways that make it hurt less and leave the door open to friendship. Maybe not right away, but eventually.