I’m grateful he broke my heart.
It saved me. Saved me from a life where I would be completely stuck.
I already felt stuck. I had weekly anxiety attacks for almost a year, but I still could have left. I loved them dearly, but those weren’t my kids. We didn’t own the house we lived in. I helped him financially, but he still would have been okay without me paying for groceries. I loved him, but I wasn’t happy. I should have left. Part of me will always be mad at myself for not leaving first. Was I just that love-blind? I kept telling myself that the things making me angry and resentful were just temporary.
…When we make more money, I won’t have to always pay for dinner and he’ll buy a car so we won’t have to constantly share mine.
…Time will heal his relationship with his mom, who doesn’t want anything to do me, because I know it tears him apart and pushes him away from me.
I just had to hold on. I just had to keep waiting. But I now know that “waiting” would have never fixed us.
It wasn’t losing him that broke me. It wasn’t losing the family that we had “puzzle pieced” together. I can listen to our song without crying and even bought his old fragrance last week as my own. Don’t get me wrong, of course there are things I do miss. In terms of a partner, he raised the bar on so many levels. I know I will have a hard time finding another person who understood me like he did. But he also lowered the bar so much that I began to question whether I had any self-respect left for staying. I was better than he was ready for and he’ll even admit that now.
But this isn’t about him.
It wasn’t losing him that broke me, it was the break up that broke me. The feeling of being broken is what I can’t seem to move on from.
I’ve lost all self-confidence. I can’t shake the feeling of not being enough. I’m weird now. So insecure. I say awkward things. I’ve lost all of my sassy and witty one-liners. I barely laugh. I feel worse at my job. Most days I want to hide in my apartment. Life just feels foggy and heavy, and if I can make it to dinner time without crying, it’s a win. I don’t fucking trust myself anymore.
I’m utterly terrified to date again. Scared to put myself out there and have someone see that I’m actually just a boring girl that works a lot, drinks too much coffee and has to watch “The Office” every night in order to fall asleep. A girl that now spends too much time scrolling through Instagram on a Friday night in an attempt to feel connected to the outside world instead of being out there and enjoying it herself. I used to think I was something special. I was proud of who I was. But somehow I’ve sunken down to a place of feeling ordinary and unworthy, no matter what I do.
I’ve been on one date in the four months since we separated and I didn’t even recognize the insecure girl that I became as I was sitting there. “What the hell did I just say?” No wonder he didn’t call me back — I wouldn’t have either.
The girl I was before this relationship wouldn’t even recognize me now. I was so free and empowered. I loved my alone time; I would fight for it and cancel plans to have it. I would just drive around and listen to music for hours, feeling myself recharge. Now Friday afternoons loom over my head because I know that there is a full weekend ahead of me and I have nothing to look forward to. No one to pull me off the couch. No partner in crime to go adventure with. It’s just me and I don’t even want to spend time with me.
Instead of enjoying the eight people (ironically, four couples and me) I was with on New Year’s Eve, I was sulking and sliding into the DMs of ex-flames and seeking the attention of people that I thought could change how I felt, desperate. Instead of celebrating a new year, I started it off with tears in my eyes and feeling rock-bottom pathetic.
But this is it.
This is my stake in the ground. I’m done. I’m done letting the mind fuck of a break up get to me anymore. 2019 will be my year. I’m turning 30, and feeling this powerless is the last thing I thought I would feel at this age. I don’t know if I’ll find love in someone else in 2019, but I have to find it in myself. I’m going to stop being sad when going to dinner alone or feeling sorry for myself if I spend the entire weekend solo. Being the third wheel to my favorite couples is something I actually look forward to, but I need to shake these feelings.
There is nothing wrong with me. I did everything right. The problem was his. Being broken up with doesn’t mean I’m broken (so cliche). And now being alone doesn’t make me any less deserving of a great life.
I’m ready. Ready to feel whole.