Holes in the Whole: A Personal History of Breakups
I was 18 and thirsty for relationship experience. Like something more than the intimate passing of notes in middle school or the overeager smiles and easy giggles in high school. I met a guy who ran and was good at ultimate frisbee (which were basically the only things I cared about at age 18) so I tried to flirt by leaving things at his doorstep and contrary to sound logic, this worked and we started dating on Mole Day. I quickly realized that in my mind, this was "practice" for me and "reality" for him. I broke up with him right before finals in December.
How did I feel?
I didn't cry. I mostly just felt sweet relief. And a little guilt after finding out he hadn't done super well on his finals.
What did I learn?
I didn't know squat about relationships.
Breakup #2
I was 19 and looking for something real. I met someone who fit every image I'd ever had growing up of what my husband was supposed to be. We wrote each other for two years on our missions and at age 21 when we were both home decided to date. I'm not sure if I can actually really count this because it lasted a weekend and then I didn't hear from him for a couple of weeks. When I finally got a hold of him, he told me he actually wasn't ready to date anyone seriously, but to check back in 6-8 months. We somehow stayed friends.
How did I feel?
I cried on my porch for a few hours and was confused and upset for weeks, which included randomly showing up at his apartment one night with my razor scooter and some tea bags because I needed to tell him I still loved him. It didn’t change anything.
What did I learn?
Sometimes love is hard.
Breakup #3
I was 22 and hurting from Breakup #2. A friend from my mission offered the promise of relationship stability and it was comfortable. Until he told me that he wanted a stay-at-home-wife and if I wanted to work, that wasn't going to work. And by the way, if I supported gay marriage then there was something wrong with my religiosity because didn't prophets tell us it was wrong and so why wasn't I listening. It was a mutual breakup.
How did I feel?
I cried that night and told my roommates that I was an old maid and no Mormon guy was going to want to date a liberal and if I hadn't met anyone by 22 I wouldn't ever. I felt better after a couple days and realized it was good we'd ended things.
What did I learn?
You can get along with someone and not want to marry them.
Breakup #4
I was 23 and still believed the cultural lie that I was an old maid and worth less without a romantic partner. A friend of a friend took a keen interest in me and gave me two months of feeling giddy and admired and also finally taught me how to really kiss (#latebloomer) and then accorded me a month of feeling frustrated and conflicted and neglected. I broke up with him and he moved away a couple months afterwards.
How did I feel?
Like I'd made the dumbest decision. I cried for weeks at random times of every day, I couldn't sleep past 5:30am because I was anxious, I worked out for 3-4 hours a day because I had all of this excess energy and angst and also in case you were wondering the guy didn't want me back.
What did I learn?
I hadn't made the dumbest decision. It is in our weaknesses that our character is shown and tested and it's okay to make decisions to see how they feel and then try to change those decisions but ultimately accept the choices of others.
Breakup #5
I was 24 and had just graduated from BYU, single. I wanted to pass the time without the same emotional trauma of the last relationship ending so I started dating someone I didn't want to marry, just have fun with. After three months, I got fed up with feeling that I was being treated like garbage from someone who claimed to love me and broke up with him.
How did I feel?
Sad but relieved. Until I realized the break hadn't been clean because he still wanted to spend time with me and cuddle and kiss and then all of the sudden he was informally proposing and I was hella freaked out because what if this was my only chance to get married? I said no after crying in pessimistic agony for a few days (or was it weeks? I can’t even remember now).
What did I learn?
I deserve to be treated like someone worthy of love and respect because I am worthy of love and respect. I can be happy and single just as easily as I could be married and sad.
Breakup #6
I was 25 and in Indiana. I dated someone I knew had liked me from our first meeting and seemed nice though naive and unwilling to engage in uncomfortable discussions (which are my favorite). I didn't think I wanted to marry him and after three months of liking being with him but then not thinking about him or missing him when I wasn't with him, I broke things off.
How did I feel?
I cried until 3am the night of the breakup and woke up at 6am to cry some more. I cried on a bus and felt like I hadn't really tried. But then after 24 hours I was fine and glad I'd pulled the bandaid off because I needed to get out of the relationship.
What did I learn?
I need someone who matches me, someone I can be equally yoked with towards common goals; I crave intellectual and emotional closeness that physical closeness fails to satisfy.
Breakup #7
I was (and am) 26. Guy from Breakup #2 texted me on Christmas and spent the next several months telling me how much he had missed me over the past four years, how no one compared to me, how he was going to move to Indiana to continue to try to woo me so we could get married because the timing was finally right. He was still everything I'd wanted, but I'd tasted a little more passion from other relationships and he sensed I always wanted more of something. He took me ring shopping, discussed what we wanted to name our future children, when would work best for our wedding. And then six months later told me that he didn't actually feel a spark with me, that he didn't desire me in the way he thought he would, that no, he wasn't gay, he just wasn't "viscerally" attracted to me.
How did I feel? How do I feel?
Like my world was ending. Like I'd been duped. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Confused, hurt, rejected, and ashamed. Because I can't seem to keep a guy around longer than a few months and if someone as fully functional as this guy didn't want me and I didn't want anything less than him, who was left? It felt like the thing that was supposed to be, the thing that started at eight years that was supposed to make a perfect whole, just left me with a hole in my heart.
What am I learning?
Never trust anyone. Also definitely look a gift horse in the mouth.
Just kidding. Well only a little. I think I’m learning life keeps moving, no matter how shattered your dreams of love may be. I'm sure I'll have a better perspective in a few months (years?).
We don't talk about breakups very often. They're painful and awkward. There's a lot of silent suffering going on as you feel like your heart is being shredded up inside of you and all of your expectations for the future are being turned into anti-matter as you hold yourself in the fetal position thinking pessimistic thoughts at an alarmingly quick frequency. You feel like other people are disappointed in you, you question your ability to be romantically loved or to be able to give that kind of love. You want everyone to know the relationship is over but you don't want to be the one to tell people. You cry in grocery stores or on walks and feel obligated to explain to strangers that it's not the tomatoes or the trees that are causing you to weep but rather your life just is an emotional heap of tears right now so please just carry on. Your friends and family assure you that you will find someone eventually, that the right person just hasn't come along, but you know that marriage is not a meritocracy and that being beautiful, smart, kind, funny, and financially stable does not guarantee you a partner and statistically speaking not everyone who wants to get married will. It's hard to convince yourself there's a point in doing anything anymore.
I wanted to think that this last relationship was the one that would show me the beautiful whole. I believed in its certainty. But it left me in the same place; sobbing on multiple friends' couches while they scratched my back and told me it wasn't okay right now but it would be okay at some point and while we wait for that let's make petty yet cathartic lists of why this guy wasn't good for you anyways and offer to egg his house. I don’t know if we get to see the whole in this life. I think we might just get glimpses of the whole that can seem more like a series of random holes. But holes are how the light gets in.
I am remarkably blessed in my friendships. I have felt so overwhelmed with the quality and quantity of love that people have shown for me every time I come out of a relationship. You'd think I'd be a pro at breakups by this point, but they still hurt like hell. Emotional pain feels just as real as physical pain. I’ve had so many people offer to listen to me just be sad, my mom has patiently picked up the phone to listen to me even when I’ve called multiple times a day still crying, a dozen people even sent me artless haikus and pictures of mountains when I asked for them on Instagram last week.
So while everything hurts and there are holes everywhere, I'm trying to be resilient and let the light and love come through those holes.
I'm doing Zumba because it makes me feel sexy.
I'm signing up for more races because running makes me feel strong.
I'm doing a lot of journal writing because it makes me feel philosophical and reflective.
I'm hiking with friends because mountains make me feel part of the whole and my friends show a consistency that is rare among humankind.
I’m teaching German as a visiting adjunct at BYU because I love universities and teaching and especially BYU.
There are lots of holes, but maybe those are just glimpses of the whole.
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