Ladies: This might go without saying, but here’s a reminder: you are part of an ageless sisterhood, where for eons women have dealt with the pain of lovesickness.
Studies show that women are twice as likely as men to experience depression when abandoned by a lover. We tend to cry more often, sleep too much or too little, or lose a considerable amount of weight as we become disinterested in daily activities.
(Fitting into your skinny jeans is really the only perk.)
We’ll spend countless hours on the phone with girlfriends or family members, venting the particulars of the situation, which is an unfortunate form of re-traumatization.
Although the talking can initially feel cathartic, a tipping point is soon reached and the repeated revisiting of the resigned relationship is toxic a kind of self-inflicted torture.
Can you recall a time after a breakup when you had reached your “tipping point,” yet kept engaging in needless rehashing of the dead relationships details?
Why did you keep rehashing the relationship?
I really mean WHY. Scribble down a thought or two.
How did the rehashing serve you?
Perhaps because keeping the pain of it alive was better than not having it at all?
It sure as hell didn’t feel good, but it was something – a kernel of your former self. And with every fiber of your being you hope this kernel– consisting of mediocrity cynicism–will be life-sustaining. Because you’re scared to death of what will happen if you are really alone.
Who would you get to be if the insidious, twisted comfort of the pain was released?
What essential ingredients would you need to break through the wall of self-doubt and emptiness? Perhaps, deep, divine, glimmering faith?
The kind of faith that anchors you to the potency, the importance of your
An intuitive trust in the unknown and yourself that will burn a bright path
to transformative self-sustaining clarity.
Scary yes, but the willingness to believe that what is waiting for you on
the other side of the transition is better, is more—is the first crucial step.
The second is to stop talking about him, already.
You did that.
We listened, now you we need you to choose a new course of action.
This is an excerpt from my book The Chemistry of Love, a hip, digital guide to logic gaps, lustful longing why we (temporarily) lose control.
Scoop up a copy quick like because at the end of February I’m retiring it to make space for bigger and better things. You can get another sneak peek here.