I’m sorry readers, I totally fooled you. You thought I was deep. But, I recently had the same philosophical discovery as Kylie Jenner:
One of the things I realized is that I am not great at expressing emotional vulnerability with romantic partners. I’m much more open with my friends, and I started that journey in the fall of my senior year of college when I had to explain to the people who loved me that I was getting my anxiety under control. But I haven’t done a great job of letting my romantic partners see my anxious side, mostly because I wanted to ignore my own issues and act as if I was perfect so that everything would just get better on its own.*
*I do not recommend this strategy.
Until recently, I hadn’t really explain my post-breakup feelings to any of my romantic partners. Instead, I decided to tell the internet. But that’s kind of a cop out. Although the things I wanted to say were getting out there, they weren’t reaching the people who actually needed to hear them.
So, a couple of weeks ago, I had a couple of glasses of red wine and had an honest conversation with one of my exes. And you know what? It was GREAT!
Like many great ideas, it started in a bar. On a sultry evening in July, I gathered with three of my friends from college at a dive bar in the East Village. As we traded work experiences, campus gossip, and various cheap cocktails, my friend Allie breathlessly sang the praises of an astrologer she had visited earlier in the month.
“I walked in to Deborah’s apartment, and she looked me up and down and said, ‘Well, aren’t you in need of guidance!'” she reported. “And I said, ‘You’re right, I am! Her session changed my life. My sister even visits her weekly.”
It was all the persuasion I needed to book a session with Deborah the astrologer. In that moment of a long and underwhelming summer, I too was in need of guidance. I had left Boston with a year of teaching experience, a job offer, and a clean slate awaiting me in August. I had also experienced a short relationship that left me pondering about what I really needed and wanted in a partner. All I desired was some reassurance: was I going the right way? And why did I insist on falling in love with men who already had girlfriends?
Anything tagged “Para Mí y Para Tí” is exactly that: for me as well as for you. These are my personal essays that I think have something of value to others – strategies you can copy, thinking you can try, a challenge to better your life.
I’ve often found that my post-grad life with my female friends resembles a less glamorous version of Sex and the City. Although we talk about many other wonderful things, such as our fledgling careers, great books we’ve read, friendship, and our pets’ escapades, the situation often morphs into a bunch of women discussing our sex lives in public places. All we need are the Mahnolo Blahniks.
This is not a love story. It might have started out that way, but what began as meet cute turned into a tale of mutual haunting. I’m not writing this piece to prove the fact that I once had a lover who tried to ghost me and instead became my ghost. I don’t care if you believe me. Instead, I want you to know how I gave up my ghost, so that you can think about how you will achieve liberation from yours.
I totally forget where I read this, but I believe it to be true: You’re truly over an ex when seeing them is not an event. You run into them, and you do not feel the need to text your best friend “SPOTTED: DOUCHENUGGET* IN FRONT OF THE LIBRARY” or having an internal monologue that sounds like “SHIT SHIT FUCK NOT PREPARED FOR THIS AVOID EYE CONTACT OK I THINK SHE’S GONE NOW PHEW.” They’re just a person with a face. That you saw.
*This is an actual nickname that I have used for a person. I’m quite proud of it. Continue reading →