Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I had a look-what-the-cat-dragged-in moment. There I was in the café, finishing a client pitch. In walked the ex, complete in his short glory with a swagger of deficits. And in that instant, it hit me: I cried over that! (Yes, before I was a baddie, I was capable of tears over a man). I walked out of that café, perched my endless legs at the bar, ordered a whiskey neat, and let out a ‘Pheeew! I would have shared a last name with that deeply unstable human being.’
Let me say it loud for the girls at the back; that breakup saved you. Listen up, your relationship ending was not a tragedy, it was an intervention. God looked at you trying to build a future with someone who eats day-old leftovers over the sink at 3am and said, ‘Absolutely not on my watch.’ That was not your soulmate. That was a walking red flag convention. He probably would have eaten your soul for breakfast while you made excuses for his shortcomings.
And let us address it. Short men. When God made them, He said, ‘I have run out of skeleton material, but let me pack all this drama into a tiny frame.’ And what did we get? A nuclear bomb with feelings. Small issue and they explode. But that’s a topic for another day. Back to breakups. You were not in love, you were in denial with a good playlist. You were out here giving unlimited chances to someone who treated loyalty like a part-time hobby. That breakup bailed you out of a lifetime subscription to disappointment.
Heartbreak feels like death at first but then you remember the breakup lines. Let us translate them real quick:
‘I think we should take a break’: ‘There is someone else, and it ain’t you. But keep the line open.’
‘Can we still be friends?’: ‘I want to keep you on standby in case I regret this.’
‘It is not what it used to be’: ‘Every day, I find you less attractive.’
‘There is a lot going on in my life right now’: ‘There are a lot of other people I am really interested in right now.’
‘It is not you, it is me’: ‘I am a liar, but I do not want to say it outright.’
‘You are the right person, it is just the wrong time’: ‘Wrong person. Wrong time.’
‘You deserve better’: ‘I’m a piece of sh*t and I plan to stay that way.’
If you’ve been fed these lines, or worse, gaslighted, realise this; that was not a heartbreak, it was a search-and-rescue mission coordinated by Mother Nature herself.
Here is the thing they do not tell you; women glow after breakups because nothing holds a woman back like the wrong man. Want to know why many 40-something women are not in a rush to date? They are still recovering from Steve who gave good head and nothing else. You gave grace because you are not perfect. You stayed because you are loyal. He stayed because you were convenient. Sis, he was not the man you prayed for, he was the man you settled for. And babe? He belongs to the streets, the avenues, and every highway in between.
Your sense of self did not die in that relationship, it waited for you to remember who you were before ‘sorry’ became a love language. Look at you now. Thriving. Healed. Drinking whiskey as the expensive problem you have become. Girlie, wear your freedom like a designer coat and your standards like stilettos, high and non-negotiable. Because being a baddie means realising what felt like the end of your world was trash taking itself out.