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Let’s not beat around the bush. This is going to hurt.
It’s the moment you dread. You fear it and then it’s suddenly there. All up in your face.
Well, looking back there were a few moments. Only one of those moments will stand out for you. It will stab you in the stomach and twists the knife around a few times just to make sure you feel it.
But it’s good to feel this pain as you now know you are alive and still have humanity in you left, even when you don’t feel like being humane towards your “one true love”.
Your first instinct will be to ignore it because well ignorance is bliss, correct? Then the real pain is to follow, and maybe you let it go unnoticed or try to ignore it even harder.
With a hard shock you realize that it’s not all in your head and it’s not your insecurities playing little mind games with you. The inevitable is at your doorstep and you can no longer ignore it or play the “ignorance is bliss” card.
But you don’t ignore it. You sit up. You listen. Like, really listen!
Make a plan.
It doesn’t have to be ideal and it doesn’t have to be a permanent, just a have plan. Don’t over think the small details. It’s all about the bigger picture.
And no, “he loves me” is not reason enough to stay, although you’ll try to tell yourself that it is.
Guess what, honey, you have been telling yourself that for a while now, and have things changed?
Your pro’s and con’s lists has been made over and over again in your diary. Small scraps of paper.
For crying out loud, there is even a pro’s and con’s list on your laptop, phone and scribbled in your favourite magazine cover.
The con’s out-way the pro’s by far. A new revised list won’t change it sweetheart.
Your best interest to designate a method of break-up, a timeline, and a place for you and all of your shit.
The actual conversation, if you're going that route, is extremely personal and entirely based on what’s best for you.
So prepare for the worst and hope for the best because there is no right or wrong way to rip someone’s heart out and stomp on it. You'll have to just do it.
Dragging yourself and the “poor fellow” through your indecisiveness is only going to make it worse for all parties involved.
Depending on the circumstances, this is, without question, the worst part of this whole soap opera you call your love life.
Only apologize for the things you’re truly sorry for. You’re most likely both to blame in some way so make sure both voices are acknowledged.
Even when the sound of his voice irritates the living life out of you, say your piece, hear him out, be firm, be loving and, if he deserves it, a good piece of your mind - depending on circumstance off course.
However it ends, make sure it ends in you leaving.
Commit. Commit. Com-fucking-mit.
Garbage bags. Clothes go in garbage bags. It seems desperate but it’s quick, cathartic and easy to commit to.
Don’t take what isn’t yours. Even when you’re tempted to just piss your dear love off. You’re the one leaving. Don’t be that person, be a dignified lady.
Allow yourself a moment to breakdown.
It might be in a photo you find buried under all your books and magazines you completely forgot about. Or that fucking stupid smokeless braai they insisted on buying, but never once used so it’s just cluttering up the cupboard under the sink, and all you want is to eat is grilled steak with him and for all of this to be over.
Feel what you need to feel. Don’t get too distracted. Stay focused.
And, for fucks sake, eat something. You can pig out today on junk food. It’s your damn right to comfort eat today. You’ll never make it through the day if you don’t.
Even though you’re a sadist at times, now is not one of those times, because feeling this way is punishment enough.
What you can’t take, leave behind. There’s plenty more life to life, which means more things to own, grow tired of and re-buy, so do what you can and don’t stress too much about the rest (even if it is your beloved 1960’s Rollfast bike that you accidentally bought on OLX).
You’ll struggle with getting a bin of books down the stairs and into the trunk of your car (jesus christ, books are really heavy) and aforementioned garbage bags will break/snag open when full, causing you to lose all remaining composure. But the world isn’t out to get you in that moment. You are.
And you’ll re-bag your clothes and take a mental note that books should not be stored in twenty gallon plastic storage bins, because now you’re convinced you’ve given yourself some sort of hernia.
Don’t neglect the dirty laundry because knowing your luck, your favourite pair of jeans is in the bottom and, if you don’t grab them, you’ll have to resort to your second favourite pair of jeans, and that is completely unacceptable.
Once your car is filled and you have all that you can possibly take, take note of the silence; the still.
This is a crucial moment for you whether you’re aware or not. It’s over.
Well, not over over. You still have to face the days of dramatic and upsetting texts, emails and voicemails begging you back, making grandiose promises for a better life.
But it’s over. You did it. You actually fucking did it.
You just reevaluated your self-worth, left a relationship that did not serve you, packed up your entire life and guess what?
It’ll be ok. All of it. You just have to let it.
But then again, what do I know?
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
Let’s not beat around the bush. This is going to hurt.
It’s the moment you dread. You fear it and then it’s suddenly there. All up in your face.
Well, looking back there were a few moments. Only one of those moments will stand out for you. It will stab you in the stomach and twists the knife around a few times just to make sure you feel it.
But it’s good to feel this pain as you now know you are alive and still have humanity in you left, even when you don’t feel like being humane towards your “one true love”.
Your first instinct will be to ignore it because well ignorance is bliss, correct? Then the real pain is to follow, and maybe you let it go unnoticed or try to ignore it even harder.
With a hard shock you realize that it’s not all in your head and it’s not your insecurities playing little mind games with you. The inevitable is at your doorstep and you can no longer ignore it or play the “ignorance is bliss” card.
But you don’t ignore it. You sit up. You listen. Like, really listen!
Make a plan.
It doesn’t have to be ideal and it doesn’t have to be a permanent, just a have plan. Don’t over think the small details. It’s all about the bigger picture.
And no, “he loves me” is not reason enough to stay, although you’ll try to tell yourself that it is.
Guess what, honey, you have been telling yourself that for a while now, and have things changed?
Your pro’s and con’s lists has been made over and over again in your diary. Small scraps of paper.
For crying out loud, there is even a pro’s and con’s list on your laptop, phone and scribbled in your favourite magazine cover.
The con’s out-way the pro’s by far. A new revised list won’t change it sweetheart.
Your best interest to designate a method of break-up, a timeline, and a place for you and all of your shit.
The actual conversation, if you're going that route, is extremely personal and entirely based on what’s best for you.
So prepare for the worst and hope for the best because there is no right or wrong way to rip someone’s heart out and stomp on it. You'll have to just do it.
Dragging yourself and the “poor fellow” through your indecisiveness is only going to make it worse for all parties involved.
Depending on the circumstances, this is, without question, the worst part of this whole soap opera you call your love life.
Only apologize for the things you’re truly sorry for. You’re most likely both to blame in some way so make sure both voices are acknowledged.
Even when the sound of his voice irritates the living life out of you, say your piece, hear him out, be firm, be loving and, if he deserves it, a good piece of your mind - depending on circumstance off course.
However it ends, make sure it ends in you leaving.
Commit. Commit. Com-fucking-mit.
Garbage bags. Clothes go in garbage bags. It seems desperate but it’s quick, cathartic and easy to commit to.
Don’t take what isn’t yours. Even when you’re tempted to just piss your dear love off. You’re the one leaving. Don’t be that person, be a dignified lady.
Allow yourself a moment to breakdown.
It might be in a photo you find buried under all your books and magazines you completely forgot about. Or that fucking stupid smokeless braai they insisted on buying, but never once used so it’s just cluttering up the cupboard under the sink, and all you want is to eat is grilled steak with him and for all of this to be over.
Feel what you need to feel. Don’t get too distracted. Stay focused.
And, for fucks sake, eat something. You can pig out today on junk food. It’s your damn right to comfort eat today. You’ll never make it through the day if you don’t.
Even though you’re a sadist at times, now is not one of those times, because feeling this way is punishment enough.
What you can’t take, leave behind. There’s plenty more life to life, which means more things to own, grow tired of and re-buy, so do what you can and don’t stress too much about the rest (even if it is your beloved 1960’s Rollfast bike that you accidentally bought on OLX).
You’ll struggle with getting a bin of books down the stairs and into the trunk of your car (jesus christ, books are really heavy) and aforementioned garbage bags will break/snag open when full, causing you to lose all remaining composure. But the world isn’t out to get you in that moment. You are.
And you’ll re-bag your clothes and take a mental note that books should not be stored in twenty gallon plastic storage bins, because now you’re convinced you’ve given yourself some sort of hernia.
Don’t neglect the dirty laundry because knowing your luck, your favourite pair of jeans is in the bottom and, if you don’t grab them, you’ll have to resort to your second favourite pair of jeans, and that is completely unacceptable.
Once your car is filled and you have all that you can possibly take, take note of the silence; the still.
This is a crucial moment for you whether you’re aware or not. It’s over.
Well, not over over. You still have to face the days of dramatic and upsetting texts, emails and voicemails begging you back, making grandiose promises for a better life.
But it’s over. You did it. You actually fucking did it.
You just reevaluated your self-worth, left a relationship that did not serve you, packed up your entire life and guess what?
It’ll be ok. All of it. You just have to let it.
But then again, what do I know?
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
