Breaking Up

Thursday, March 18, 2010

No doubt, breakups are the worst. I’ve had my heart broken, and I’ve been the heart breaker. You feel like you’re a “witch” if you’re ending the relationship, and on the other hand wonder where you went wrong if you’ve been given the boot. No matter which role you play, it is never easy.

While attending aerobics class last week in South Arlington, my instructor mentioned that she began running after a bad break up in college. She’s now going through a divorce and calls training for a triathlon her “divorce therapy.”

This brought me back to a break up which occurred the summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school. I couldn’t understand why he broke up with me, but I needed to stop dwelling on the “whys,” so I got a job working nine-hour shifts at McDonalds, five days a week at $5.10 an hour. Between cleaning the bathrooms and working the drive thru and frontline, I comforted myself with Chicken McNuggets, fries and chocolates milkshakes. In retrospect, it was “food therapy.” By the end of August, I had gained an assistant manager position, as well as 10 pounds.

We all have our own “break-up therapies.” Some of us eat while others lose their appetites (I envy you), and some jump into casual relationships. A few of you swear off dating completely. Some people focus their attention on work or use exercise as therapy as did my aerobics instructor. Maybe you seek out the sales rack at Macy’s. Or perhaps you seek professional help.

At the beginning of my junior year, I gave my two weeks’ notice at McDonald’s and immediately joined my high school’s cross-country team. I needed a healthy diversion that had nothing to do with food. I’ve never enjoyed running, but it was a new challenge. That semester proved to be cathartic for me since I found a good friend on the team and began moving away from my past relationship.

So the question is how have you handled a break up (whether you were dumped or the one who did the breaking up)? Which “break up therapy” works the best for you? Which does not?

Share your story. Email me at littleredbook@northernvirginiamag.com.