Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about breaking up.
Breakups: They’re always so uneven, one of person is out partying and sloppily “living it up” while the other is crying into an empty ice cream bowl on the couch.
Any of this sounding familiar? Perhaps not as commonly spoken about, but definitely still relatable, is wishing that other person is in the third layer of the Inferno without you in their lives. And we aren’t afraid to talk about that at all, we sit around with our girlfriends on the sofa, drowning our tears in that pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, watching Sex and the City, and listening to everyone talk about how much this person is going to regret it… one day.
“You were the best thing to ever walk into his life,” or, “one day he is going to wake up and realize he messed up,” and even, “Give him one week without you and he’ll come crawling back, just you watch.” All of this makes you think:
Wow. Damn. His whooooole life, and I was the best thing. What a life now, now that I’m not in it. He must be having an epic suckfest now that I’m gone.
And then it dawned on me – we want that other person to feel deep, anguishing pain because that is how we are measuring our self-worth. We are measuring our self-worth by how bad it must be to not have us around anymore. And I am calling BS on that. I am the one who measures how great I am, how great I see myself. Other people can walk into my life and agree or disagree, but at the end of the day, nothing they say or feel about me matters. I am worth it because I am awesome. No one’s pain or suffering can or should be measuring that. I see who I am and I know what I am worth and that’s all that matters. Now, I’m not going to advise to take the high road and forgive that jerkface. No, I’m just gonna take my road. And my road is pointing towards moving on and to stop turning around too see a part of my past that does not belong in my future.