You know what they say, “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
I don’t know exactly who “they” is, but this sounds like absolutely terrible advice. When you break up with someone you cared about, it’s probably not the smartest idea to throw your broken spirit and body at a stranger in the hopes that they can fix you, emotionally.
They can’t fix you. They’ll probably just give you a mediocre experience in bed that will later inevitably turn to regret, as you realize that sex without intimacy or love isn’t as fulfilling as you thought.
After a former significant other has gone scorched earth, blocked you on every form of social media, and effectively stripped you from their existence, it may seem tempting to try and find someone else to resolve the crippling, yet understandable emotional baggage you may have left over from the experience.
But don’t do that.
It’s time to treat yo’self. I say this constantly at both appropriate and inappropriate times. It just seems to fit most situations. Take some time for yourself! It may have been months, years, even, that your main focus has just been on YOU.
Have you been wanting to commit to a full spa day? Maybe spend a few Benjamins with reckless abandon on a eucalyptus steam room and a full-body Swedish deep-tissue massage by a woman named Hilda? Go for it. You’re not having to save up for that anniversary present anymore.
Have you been trying to figure out how to pull off a Vegas weekend with the boys, but your ex-girlfriend just “wasn’t comfortable” with you going to Sin City with your degenerate friends? Maybe it’s time you roll the dice (pun intended) and book a flight.
Maybe this newfound freedom means that you can watch all the Kardashian trash-TV you want. Maybe it means eating Velveeta mac ‘n cheese shells for dinner three times a week because now Lauren isn’t here to tell you “that’s disgusting,” or “Seriously, Bryan? Grow up.”
Is your new existence lonely? Absolutely. Will there be some nights where Netflix asks you if you are still watching Friends multiple times because all you’ve done is lay in bed and imagine that you’re a fun-loving 25-year-old in 1990’s New York City? Yes, there will be those nights.
Personally, I deal with breakups through retail therapy. No, this is neither the safest nor smartest route to recovery, but it does help ease the pain. When I come home to boxes piled up outside my door, emblazoned with words like “Nordstrom,” and “lululemon,” it’s almost as if I can smile again. I don’t need a Bumble match or a random hook-up to make me happy! The Gucci slides delivered yesterday afternoon will probably be able to do the trick.
In all seriousness, guys and gals, breakups suck. Take a little time to do some self-care.
I’m gonna go drink champagne in my bathtub, now. .