Dear Heartbreak Page 9

  So we’re used to the hazing ritual that is childhood by the time we get to be teenagers. And then the hazing gets worse. Adults join in (if they weren’t already there) and we land in a shit sandwich. Our own peers are still telling us how unworthy/weird/unlikable/into goats we are, maybe our families, too, or teachers, and then we get to be teenagers and the entire world hates us. Let’s be really clear here—this is not in your imagination. A majority of adult society completely disrespects teenagers. Toddlers are damn cute—even when they make mistakes. Add ten years and you’re suddenly an asshole for every mistake you make. The eye-rolling is audible. The sheer exhaustion teenagers seem to cause adults is ridiculous. And they think your heartbreak is stupid.

  Seriously. Hey, adults: YOU ALREADY LIVED THIS SHIT. How come you don’t remember how hard it is?

  Maybe we block it out. In fact, I’m pretty sure we do. I remember having my heart broken when I was a teenager. But I don’t remember the pain. It’s a bit like childbirth, I guess. Our brains forget. We say dumb things to our teenagers. Here’s one I’ve said recently to my teenager: “Why don’t you just try to do this year only thinking about school and not date anyone?”

  Yeah. I’ve said that. And I meant it. But I forget how this is nearly impossible. In our teens, we are forming ourselves. We are exploring the world. We are exploring other people. And we fall in love. Even if we’re not ready. What’s ready, anyway? Seriously. Who is really ready for love? None of us.

  So do me a favor and think on where your self-esteem sits right now. Check yourself out. Take a weekend to write down all the things you like and don’t like about yourself. And then figure out which things are in the wrong columns. Example: I used to think that being smart (as a girl) was a thing I didn’t like about myself. That’s some bullshit, right? But that idea was formed by the boys who’d say mean stuff to me because I was smart. And look at me now. I make money off the shit I make up in my smart brain.

  So, ingredient number one: self-esteem. Do you have it? Has it been whittled down by years of social interaction with callous peers? Figure this out. It won’t just help you with heartbreak, it’ll help you with everything else in life. And it will probably lead you to the next thing I’m going to talk about.

  Heartbreak will be on the menu if you didn’t have love in your life growing up. I’m just going to put this out there. If you had a childhood that was weak on love (no matter how new your sneakers were, no matter how much food you did or didn’t have in the fridge—it’s not the stuff, it’s the LOVE), then you’re going to have some heartbreak if you don’t get some things straight first.

  Find a way to love yourself. Don’t argue with me on this because it sounds like I’m a weirdo cosmic hippie. You need to be okay with you before someone else is. Their love for you can’t stand in for your own. Period.

  This relates to: Choose, when you can, to be happy ALL BY YOURSELF. Because if you’re thinking someone else can make you happy, you’re in for a long, painful ride.

  I’m not dishing this out of superiority. This is real. It’s important. More important than algebra and your Spanish homework. You have to realize that the world has it wrong. Our culture doesn’t really ever talk about this stuff. And yet it’s the most important stuff you could ever learn. So hear me out. Yes, Fuck you, heartbreak, but hey, since I’m already sitting down at the bottom of a well of sadness, I should probably look around and figure out what the hell got me here because it wasn’t the fault of just one person. (Not even me.)

  It’s time to get healthy.

  Have you had some bad shit happen to you? I mean as a kid? As a teenager? Look at it. Figure out how it’s affecting you NOW. Because if you don’t, it will affect you forever. Trust me on this. The sooner you can start sifting through the dirt at the bottom of your well, the sooner you will be able to be happy all by yourself, and then eventually be happy with another person.

  Ingredient number two: expectations. So, about those two words you wrote to me—the anger and frustration they express—I need to ask you a question. Have you ever heard of the friend zone? Are you aware that it’s a myth that’s used to blame others for anger and frustration in love? Let me explain.

  The friend zone by definition is really the disappointment another person feels when their own (often unrealistic) expectations are not met. It’s a way of manipulating you into thinking that their expectations are your responsibility. Read that again. It’s a way of manipulating you into thinking that their expectations are your responsibility. That’s what it is. The friend zone didn’t exist when I was in school. I am grateful, because I was a smart girl who took shop and most of my friends were guys and yeah, some of them fell for me but usually I was too busy hating myself to notice. But holy hell, at least those guys didn’t have some messed-up idea that because I was breathing, or dancing next to them, or sneaking out for a cigarette with them, I was supposed to be their girlfriend. That’s nuts. Like—psycho nuts. To put it simply: Just because someone wants to be with you doesn’t mean you have to be with them. You haven’t put them into a zone. They put themselves there. And if you feel as if you’ve been put into a “zone” by another person, it’s time to have a good look at where your expectations came from and ask yourself if you’re being fair. Are we clear? Good.

  While we’re on the subject, I want to talk about loneliness. Loneliness is a human experience and everyone has it. Coupling up with someone doesn’t cure it. I like to look at that feeling—at its desperate worst—and see something good in it. Because if I don’t find something good in it, I end up pointing my finger outward. And that’s not cool, Done With You. If I’m lonely, it’s my job to figure out how to be alone and happy and not blame someone else for making me feel lonely. See also: the myth of the friend zone. Blaming others for our loneliness is really an expectation problem. Sadly, no one tells you in life that you will be lonely. I’m glad I can be the one to say it if you haven’t already heard it. Loneliness is a human experience. It’s normal. In relationships and not in relationships. Ride it out like you ride out a head cold. It’ll get better.

  And I should add this, because it’s super important: No one should yell at you, make you feel small, make you do things you don’t want to do, or make you feel like shit for being yourself and doing whatever you want to do. Ever. As humans, we lose it sometimes and that’s okay. But unless there’s a heartfelt apology and understanding conversation after experiencing another person’s anger, it’s time for you to really think about what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.

  To summarize: Anger, frustration, and loneliness are all going to come at you during times of love and heartbreak. Make sure that you regulate your expectations of other people and of yourself. Stay emotionally healthy. Stay away from people who aren’t.

  Ingredient number three: Bake your own damn cake. My sister has a friend who, during a time in her own heartbreak, said to her, “Who is chasing you?” which is a quote from an old movie. This isn’t meant to sound creepy. It’s a legit question. If you’re chasing (i.e., showing attention to) people you’re romantically interested in but they aren’t chasing back, there’s a good chance you’re looking for someone to complete you, and there is no such thing.

  None of us is born half-finished. We are born whole. You need to be whole before you love another person. We all have gaps inside of us. Love gaps. And no one can really fill those gaps for you. That’s not anyone’s job but yours. Worse yet, if you find someone who wants to make you happy all the time, then you’ve found someone who is probably filling their own gaps with you—not with themselves … and that’s going to be a problem. We are not puzzle pieces looking around for our match. We are whole people looking for other whole people with whom we’d like to spend time.

  Here’s where our education has it wrong. No one talks to us about being truly healthy. Oh, sure, here’s the food pyramid and some advice about exercise and maybe a little half-assed, unbalanced, hetero Sex Ed if you’re lucky, but
no one talks about dependency and codependency and how chasing other people might mean we’re desperate for love we never got when we were kids. They roll their eyes and call drama if teenagers dare look into themselves. Do you want to know why? Because, like me, many adults are living lives of heartbreak and pain while pretending we have our shit together.

  No one has their shit totally together. Ever. Anyone who says they do is lying.

  But the closer we get to knowing what healthy means, and to being healthy ourselves, the less susceptible we’ll be to heartbreak. We don’t pick the people who are trying too hard to impress us. We don’t keep a partner if they’ve tried to hurt us or make us doubt ourselves. Healthy people don’t do that. And yeah, it hurts when we realize that a person isn’t who we thought they were, but if we’re healthy about staying healthy, then we know what’s truly best for us.

  I have to be honest. If there was one thing I could change about my years in high school and college, it would be to take away this pressure to be WITH someone before we ever are encouraged to be WITH ourselves. I wish our bodies could turn off that urge to mate until about age twenty-five. God, that would be nice, right? I mean, the culture does it to us before the urge even hits. I got married to some kid named Mike in third grade on the kickball field. I know kids who were fake-married as young as kindergarten. And y’all, that’s bullshit.

  How, in a culture that forces us to think about coupling so young, do we ever form ourselves fully? I don’t know. But I do know that it’s the key to happiness and the key to healthiness.

  I’m so done with heartbreak, too, Done With You. I’m done with feeling empty and unworthy and jaded. But I’m also done with the IDEA of heartbreak. Who ever said I had to give my heart up for breaking? Who ever said that this was supposed to start so young? Who made these rules? And why the hell are we following them?

  I am happiest when I’m alone in my office writing books. Or alone in a hotel room after a day speaking to an audience. Or alone on an airplane flying to a new country. I am happier alone as long as I’m healthy. And because I’m happy at all those times, I’m happier than happy when I come home to my family. As for my husband of twenty-five years? He got help. He realized what crazy shit was in the bottom of his well. He’s labeling it and processing it and figuring it out. He’s getting healthy. At fifty years old.

  Don’t wait that long to look around at the bottom of your well.

  Please, Done With You, if you haven’t already, seek a healthy life. You were born whole. Make sure you’re intact before you think about love again. And don’t worry—if it feels cold and impossible for now, that’s normal. If you need love, then give it to yourself. Learn how to say no for your own good. Stop believing the myth that we are born to be coupled. We aren’t. We are born to kick the world’s ass all by ourselves. Companionship is a bonus, but only if it doesn’t break your heart in the process.

  Heartbreak can go fuck itself. But let it go. Let the pain go. Let the people go. Let the whole thing move into its rightful place in your past. Free yourself. I can already tell you’re the kind of person who doesn’t take shit from heartbreak. So don’t take any shit from anywhere else, either. When people give you shit, leave it on the side of the road; don’t pack it for the journey.

  While the world told us that we were supposed to be Disney princes and princesses, they were lying to us. Maybe the movie-makers thought a single character couldn’t be a love story. But we can be. All by ourselves. Love stories.

  Now go dance to your favorite song while wearing your favorite clothes and make your favorite food, okay? Because nothing says fuck you to heartbreak more than that. Nothing.

  Love,

  I think with some people you can just tell you’re going to have a history with them. Even if that history hasn’t happened yet.

  —Here We Are Now, Jasmine Warga

  Dear Heartbreak,

  I’m dating a boy who is poisonous. In many ways we are similar. We both like the same things, we both play sports, we both have the same sense of honor, we both care about each other. I know he loves me, and I’m not sure if I’m in love with him yet, but I know I love him. When we first started dating, my best friend had feelings for him, which I was unaware of. I’d constantly ask her if she did, and she would never tell me, so I figured I had the go-ahead. I realized after a month of unspoken words and weird unknown distance, I was wrong. We tried to talk about the situation, which for me made it worse. She told me that she loved him, and from here I didn’t know what to do.

  He had feelings for me, he picked me, and he made me feel loved. I didn’t want to give up something that made me feel happy and made me feel loved, cared for. I was stuck. I knew if I broke up with him, he’d be devastated and I’d be hurt, and overall, what would that do for my friend? It wouldn’t mean she could date him, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much to see that her best friend was no longer with the boy she loved. So what do I do? Do I sacrifice my own, his, happiness so she would not be hurt? That doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t seem fair that all this time she’d say nothing about her feelings until it was too late. Until she realized what she had lost.

  But what about me? I love him. He loves me. I don’t want to lose him. I want him. Like a drug, addictive, yet poisonous. I don’t want to hurt her; however, I am happy and don’t want to hurt myself or him. Either way, someone gets hurt, and it sucks. I don’t think there is a right or wrong answer. It’s simply him or her? Either way, I lose someone I didn’t want to lose. Either way, I sacrifice. Either way, I was put in a situation that is unfair, that is challenging, that is hurtful to someone.

  —Undecided Girl

  OWN YOUR HEART

  Dear Undecided Girl,

  My junior year of high school, my best friend S and I had a crush on the same boy. Though crush is probably the wrong word—we watched A as he floated down the halls. He was a year older than us. He was a mystery that we wanted to solve.

  My and S’s friendship was centered on things we both liked. We both liked to read pretentious books that we thought our other classmates probably couldn’t understand, and even if they could, they wouldn’t get it like we did. We both liked the same obscure (or at least obscure to us) indie records. Especially the angry-girl ballads. We both wanted to be seen as manic pixie dream girls, but knew enough not to say that aloud because then you automatically were not one. We both wore clothes from Urban Outfitters and Anthropologie, but lied and said we found them at thrift stores.

  But as silly as all of that was, I also felt truly bonded to S. She was someone with whom I could be completely honest about my fear of going away to college. My worries and insecurities about everything from my physical appearance to my intellect. We crafted our carefully curated personas together, but it was only with each other we were able to let go of those personas.

  And as I said, we both were fascinated by A, and so it felt like a miracle when at the end of senior year, my path crossed with A’s and he showed interest in me. The first night he instant-messaged me (a reference that is sure to give away my age), my heart jumped into my throat just like all the angsty indie rock songs I’d been listening to had said it would.

  With S, I detailed and analyzed my every interaction with A. She would come over to my house and help me craft messages back to him. When I’d get home from going out with him, I would call her and relay in excruciating detail every single thing that happened. I knew in the back of my head that S had also once been interested in A, but her crush on him didn’t seem like a big deal. We never talked about it. Not once.

  And it wasn’t a big deal until I went away to school. Right before I moved away to college, A and I broke up. Though “broke up” is probably the wrong word because we both considered ourselves too bohemian to label our relationship, but we had been together. And when I left for school, our arrangement dissolved. I was not happy about this. Being with A had made me feel cool. Confident in a way I hadn’t before. I was upset, but pretended I wa
sn’t.

  When I got to college, I was lonely. I was homesick. I pretended I wasn’t. I was a student at the fancy school I had been dreaming about going to for years, but I was lonely. I missed my Midwestern hometown. I missed its provincialness that just weeks before I’d been desperate to escape.

  Two weeks into being away, I got a call from S. She was now sleeping with A. I totally lost my shit. I couldn’t believe that she could hurt me like this. Didn’t she know about girl code? I moped for days and days, secure in my place atop the moral high ground. I felt crushed and replaced. And lonely. My god, I felt so lonely.

  I felt totally victimized by S. I told myself that I would never do something like that to someone I cared about. But yes, darling Undecided Girl, you are right—I already had. I had been rather careless with S’s feelings when I constantly flaunted my relationship with A in front of her. I had been cruel when I hadn’t even bothered to talk with her about her feelings. I had brushed them off—acted as though ignoring them would make them disappear. And if the situation had been flipped, I knew in my heart of hearts that I would be doing exactly what S had done.

  But I still tried to make S pay for the pain she had caused me. I told her that I wouldn’t be her friend if she kept seeing A. And guess what she did? She kept on seeing A. My ultimatum accomplished exactly nothing except for me losing my friend.

  You are probably trying to find the thread here, Undecided Girl. You might be wondering what my reckless and damaged eighteen-year-old heart has to do with your precious undecided one. But my dear girl, it has a great deal to do with you. Because from reading your letter, I’ve decided that your biggest problem is not figuring out what you want, but learning to accept and own what you want. You don’t have an undecided heart. You have a heart that you have not taken ownership of.