Tag Archives: love

Table for One

She sits with a large sigh, relieved to set down her Christmas shopping. The waitress asks if she’s waiting for someone. Or is she alone? She nods at the latter.

She eats quickly, a glazed expression in her eyes. When she’s satiated the initial intensity of her hunger, she begins to slow down. Only then does she look around the bar.

There is a guy to her right. He’s on his own too. She tries not to look directly at him but he lingers in the outskirts of her vision. He could be cute… He plays self-consciously with his phone, taking occasional sips of his latte. She pushes the plate away and opens a book.

If this was a movie, he would spot the title of the novel she was holding and realise that he found this woman intriguing. He would pluck up the courage to approach her and their story would begin…

The potentially attractive man smiles as his date walks towards him. The lone female diner looks up to appraise the pretty new arrival, then bows her head to read about somebody else’s romance.

Image: http://fuckyeahtumblraddict.tumblr.com/page/2

Men are from Mars, Women are Crazy

Who knew I’d be inspired by watching Knocked Up? Please desist from turning up thy noses. Because it takes a certain sort of genius to make people laugh. And you can’t beat a good Apatow flick. And Seth Rogen’s laugh is priceless. But none of the above reasons are what got me writing this post. It was the thought-provoking scene, where married couple, Pete and Debbie, played by Paul Rudd (I so would) and Leslie Mann, have a huge argument.

Debbie is furious because she’s just found out that Pete has been sneaking around and lying to her. But he’s not cheating. He’s playing fantasy baseball league with his friends. Which is worse than infidelity to Debbie because it means that he would rather hang out with his nerdy mates than be with his family. He can’t understand why she can’t understand that he just needs space. He simply cannot fathom how his wife loves him so much that she wants him around all the time. And that is their biggest problem.

Basically, he just misses his male camaraderie and she’s being controlling. Sound familiar? So many married men would do anything to get away from the old “ball and chain” as often as possible. But what about the women? Don’t they want to get out and party with their gal pals too? Or is it presumed that just because they’re female, they’re clingy?

I was in a relationship once where I could never quite figure out whether I was being needy or he was just a commitment-phobe. I wanted to spend time with him. He wanted to play sport.

Admittedly, there are a lot of women out there who drop their friends, their hobbies, and their nights out the moment a half-decent dude shows up. They throw their everything into making the relationship work. Can you blame the overwhelmed partner for itching to get away from this co-dependent woman, who’s rapidly gone from being passionate and smart to whining and insecure?

It’s funny how, when describing matters of the heart, you can’t avoid terms of violence… I love you to death. All’s fair in love and war. She loves me to bits.

Just because you’re in a relationship, doesn’t mean you have to give up who you are and what you enjoy. If you don’t believe in relationships, don’t join one. But if you do want a partner, you’ve got to realise that compromise is a necessary part of a partnership. The trick is to find someone you’re compatible with. Because that is half the battle.

Images: http://www.graphicshunt.com/wallpapers/images/lots_of_hearts-7088.htm; http://break–my–heart.skyrock.com/1.html

Pass the passion, please.

We all have something that causes the passion to bubble up within us. Be it writing or photography, health or healing, art or literature, dance or travel, nature or sport, film or fashion, justice or love.

When someone takes that passion and uses it for the higher good, it can be translated into something beautiful. And if it fills just one heart with joy; if it resonates with at least one other human being and makes them feel that they are not alone; if it helps even one person live a better life, then that is a passion worth sharing.

“There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” Nelson Mandela

If you have something that awakens some little bit of a sparkle within you, don’t be afraid to blow on its embers. Set the world alight with your passion. Not only will you be doing a service to all those who witness what you have to offer, but it will make you feel alive.

Images: http://ellenzee.tumblr.com/post/13470021301http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=182031355225303&set=a.152032604891845.34642.152012388227200&type=1&permPage=1;; http://barfotabarn.blogg.se/

Tracing memories…

A few weeks ago, my aunt gave me her unused copy of Cheryl Richardson’s Turning Inward, a lovely journal of self-discovery. I’m loving this unexpected hand-me-down as it’s forced me to really reflect upon what’s important in my life, what I fear most, and what’s blocking me from unleashing my potential.

Tonight, I turn to page 22, where I’m asked about a favourite memory. I struggle against the memory that immediately pops into my head as it involves an ex, with whom things ended badly. Despite this, I start to write…

"Recalling days of sadness, memories haunt me. Recalling days of happiness, I haunt my memories.' Robert Brault

Last summer, my ex-boyfriend bundled me into his van and brought me to Ballyferriter, a small Irish-speaking town in County Kerry on the west coast of Ireland. This was where I had spent my childhood vacations. I hadn’t been there in 16 years so I was extremely excited to revisit this special place.

This impromptu trip has elbowed its way into my patchwork quilt of favourite memories because it was beautiful in its own right and because it awakened a whole landscape of wonderful older memories…

We peered into the boarded-up caravan where I’d spent summers playing heated games of cards and Scrabble, where I’d listened to the tap-dancing rain when I wasn’t warbling along to Mariah Carey on the Walkman, where my cousins and I had huddled together as we whispered ghost stories and feasted on apple drops and Dip Dabs, where my grandma had taught me how to knit a tea-cosy while my granddad completed the Irish Times’ crossword, where we’d dipped bread soldiers into runny eggs with RTÉ Radio One  playing in the background…

We visited the beach where my family and I had picnicked and ridden waves, built sand castles and squelched across seaweed, savouring the sounds and smells of the ocean. This was where I’d drunk my first can of cider and chatted up boys in my native tongue.

We pitched a tent (which was an experience in itself) and drove into the village. I pictured myself, as a child, walking into town, stopping to pick black currants and suck on fuchsias. I remembered dangling from monkey-bars in the hotel playground as I gazed out at An Fear Marbh

An Fear Marbh (the dead man)

We wandered around the village as I regaled my beau with stories of my brother, cousins and I going to the pub to drink  Coke “in a bottle, with a straw”, playing pool against the locals, then buying lollipops and turnover bread with our winnings of punts and pennies, and investing in my first pair of dangly earrings…

Having showed him all the sights, we munched on fish and chips, washed down with a pint of the black stuff. That night, we cosied up on the beach while the crashing waves serenaded us…

The following morning, we woke ourselves up with an excruciatingly refreshing swim. We warmed up by running the length of the beach, then executing a number of yoga moves while still in our bathing suits (much to the astonishment of the well-wrapped-up passers-by). Afterwards, we used a small camping stove to make the most delicious breakfast I have ever had (no exaggeration) of poached eggs and tea…

Writing about this bittersweet memory has taught me three things:

  1. The most wonderful memories are made up of the simplest scenarios.
  2. Even though life hasn’t turned out the way you expected, what happened before still counts.
  3. Just because someone is no longer in your life, doesn’t mean the memories you shared with them should be tinged with sorrow.

Last summer, I was happy and in love. Last summer, I delighted in spooning and holding hands. Last summer, the man I loved made it possible for me to rediscover some of the best moments of my life and, in the process, gave me a wonderful new memory that will stay with me forever. And for that, I will always be grateful.

Images: http://mydeardiamond.tumblr.com/; http://crunchy-little-human.deviantart.com/art/Childhood-198323794; http://inphotos.org/2006/12/21/an-fear-marbh/; neon-stories.tumblr.com; http://www.bigonbuds.com/category/uncategorized/

Single and all loved-up

Being single does not translate as “looking for a partner”. In the words of The Pussycat Dolls (this blog really is high-brow stuff), “I don’t need a man to make me feel good.”

Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m available. I want to be sure of myself and my own self-worth before exchanging digits (or body fluids) with some randomer. I want to love and accept myself completely instead of inviting someone else in to do it for me. I’ve got to really know myself and be who I am (and proud of it) before I can meet the right man for me.

If I put myself out there prematurely, I run the risk of getting into the wrong type of relationship. One that will bring me soaring up in the honeymoon stage before crash landing back to reality. Somebody’s bound to get hurt. Been there, done that, bought the self-help book.

We only attract in what we’re projecting out. So, if you’re feeling needy or unattractive or if you’re beating yourself up over anything and everything, you will surely manifest a relationship with someone controlling or critical or angry (or how about all of the above?)

“If you aren’t happy being single, you will never be happy in a relationship. Get your own life and love it first, then share it.” Unknown author

So for now, I’m tentatively entering into a healthy relationship with myself. A romance that’s guaranteed to last a life-time. It’s uncharted territory, folks. But it’s so worthwhile.

So, be grateful for this time you now have to work on yourself and what makes you happy. Giggle with friends over enormous frothy cappuccinos. Take long walks by the coast. Read. Focus on your passion. Start classes in yoga or art or drama. Dance the night away. Go on a skiing or writers’ holiday. Drive somewhere you’ve never been before, with the windows down and your favourite tunes banging. Just because you’re still single doesn’t mean you’re destined to suffer a long, lonely existence with only your cats and knitting needles for company.

Know that you owe it to yourself to experience self-love first.

Featured image: http://www.kriyayoga.com/wallpapers/widescreen_wallpapers/rose/beautiful_roses.html

Images: http://weheartit.com/entry/16568451; http://www.ilovephotoblogs.com/freelance-photographer-salih-guler-ankara-turkey; http://pulpfactor.com/photography/6840/photography-by-luis-beltran/

Disappointment: the cold shower you didn’t want to take

Disappointment can strike you like a ferocious tidal wave on a calm summer’s day. It takes you by surprise, plunges you into an icy, suffocating darkness, washes away your energy, erodes some of your hope, and snaps off a little piece of your heart. I’ve experienced a few disappointments in recent times and it’s hard not to let them trip you up.

wallpaperstock.net

According to Ardictionary.com, disappointment is “a feeling of dissatisfaction that results when your expectations are not realised”. The only reason we get disappointed is because something happens outside of our control. Our expectations are shattered. We want to control how someone behaves towards us or how we expect a situation to turn out. When life rails against our wishes, we experience an extraordinary sense of disappointment.

By dissecting the word, it can be broken down into “dis-” and “appointment”. The prefix “dis-” has a negative or reversing force on what comes after it. An appointment is “a fixed mutual agreement for a meeting or engagement.” (Dictionary.com) You had a plan and this plan was obliterated. You feel as though you’ve just been knocked down by the tsunami created by the aftershock of this disappointment. The trick is not to allow yourself be swept away by the current of negative emotions that arises.

When you suffer a disappointment, be it having been rejected or dumped, when a friend lets you down or a family member behaves in a way that hurts you, or your holiday/business/career plans are dashed, you need to do two things.

1. Realise that this person’s behaviour has nothing to do with you. It’s all about them and what’s going on in their world. Also, everything happens for a reason. Trust that all will work out in the end. Focus on the bigger picture. Perhaps this partner/friend/trip/business idea was not the one for you. Or the timing wasn’t right. Ultimately, you will be thankful for this disappointment as you will be open to something better coming your way.

“Disenchantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or a major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition in our lives.” William Throsby Bridges

2. Recognise that how you feel and react as a result of this disappointment is all about you. Delve into the emotions that are overwhelming you and get into the bodily sensations you are experiencing. Ask yourself why you’re upset/angry/hurt. Are you placing too much of yourself into the hands of one person or plan?

I spent a large part of my life feeling that I had to do it all on my own. I believed that people were inherently selfish and would let you down. I needed to be independent and self-sufficient. As a result, I found it hard to get too close to people. However, in recent times, my experience of people and the world has altered. I’ve come into contact with good people, who go out of their way to help others. I started to see things differently. It was like a rainbow had exploded across the charcoal canvas of my world.

clubfresco.webs.com

I didn’t want to see the blacks and greys any more. I focussed on the bright and vibrant colours. But that was not being real either. Life is made up of darkness and light, happiness and sadness, grief and excitement, faith and loss, hope and disappointment.

It is important to be independent. To be okay on your own. To do your own thing and follow your calling in life. And if someone wants to help/befriend/date you, accept that as an added bonus. And if they take their altruism/friendship/affection away, it will not devastate you because you are still a whole person.

We all go through difficulties and disappointments. This is a requirement for growth. These times offer us a lot of learning if we are willing to look inwards. They enable us to greater appreciate the beauty and possibilities that arise. It may feel like it will never stop raining and that you’ll drown in the mud. Just know that, after the fright and fury of the storm, a rainbow flashes her colours…

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Fear of rejection: being burned by the fire of desire

Have you ever wanted something so bad but been too afraid to go for it? Have you allowed opportunities pass you by as you looked on helplessly? I’ve cried tears of sadness, confusion and frustration over things I haven’t had the courage or the confidence to pursue.

For me, a fear of rejection has always paralysed me. I would grieve someone before confessing my feelings for them. I ‘ve struggled with a lifelong delusion of not being wanted or loved. I doubted my right to happiness, fulfilment and even a space on this planet.

In my early twenties, if I was in a busy café and there were people waiting to be seated, I would become agitated and hurry my coffee because I clearly thought that I didn’t deserve a place as much as these strangers did.

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." Anaïs Nin

I assumed that I’d never be lucky enough to experience true love or enter into a functional relationship. I had obviously come to the conclusion that I wasn’t worthy.

I remember a time not so long ago when I was talking to someone I was interested in romantically. As he spoke, I just wanted to reach out and touch him. But I didn’t want to scare him away or make myself vulnerable. So I just smiled and nodded and slapped back the desire, turning it into something that had to be suppressed, a flame that had to be quenched for fear of burning myself.

I could never let a guy know that I was interested in him as the fear of rejection was too great. I couldn’t handle another confirmation that I was unlovable. And so I was left with all these feelings and nowhere to vent them. It was a lose-lose situation. I was either denying myself the pleasure of getting with a wonderful man or losing myself in a fantasy world of misinterpreted hope, where it was possible that, one day, I’d ride into the sunset with a man who had absolutely no interest in me, sunsets or riding.

I often marvelled at the courage of some of my friends who were confident enough to ask men out. One friend told me that, on a night out, she simply grabbed a guy’s face and kissed him. I delighted in her story but the thought of doing something similar caused me to shut down in terror.

I would rather wait to be asked out. However, I recently realised that this meant giving my power and freedom of choice away. I neglected the possibility of selecting whom I wanted to date. I have to admit that this is an area I still need to bring awareness to. I don’t know if I’ll be shoving my face into a man’s any time soon but I’m working on it.

This process begins by noticing the magnificent light that shines brightly within me. I’m awakening to my life’s purpose. I now appreciate my talents and quirks and I’m finally recognising that I am fun and interesting and lovable.

If you are full of desire for something but are too terrified to pursue it, ask yourself why. What is it that you want? What are you afraid of? Sit with the answers you give yourself and the emotions that this will bring up.
You may even realise that you’ve built the person/state of being/trip/job up so much that the reality of acquiring said item would be a lot different from the scenario your imagination is creating. The thing you want shimmers before your parched soul like a spectacular mirage.
 

"Without awareness of bodily feeling and attitude, a person becomes split into a disembodied spirit and a disenchanted body." Alexander Lowen

 

You may also identify that you’re feeling starved of affection, approval, success or enjoyment. Try giving yourself these things. You don’t have to wait until you’ve got a promotion/date with Mr I-think-is-Right/airline tickets for an African safari. Embrace the wondrous nature that is right on your doorstep if you would just open your eyes. Treat yourself to some self-love, understanding and compassion. Talk to yourself. Become your new best friend. Respect the inner strength that has taken you to this point in your life. You are a survivor. You don’t need to be wearing a power suit or a wedding ring before you can deem yourself worthwhile. Delight in the miracle of your very existence.

That’s not to say don’t go for what you want out of life. Set up your own business. Ask your crush out. Plan an exciting trip for your upcoming holidays, be it backpacking around Southeast Asia or rediscovering Ireland’s coastline.

And if you get knocked back, be gentle with yourself. Then congratulate yourself on your courage and determination. Recognise that this particular path is not going to take you to your desired destination and simply change direction. As you release the fear, the baggage you’re carrying on your journey will become lighter. And when you no longer have to lug that heavy weight across your shoulders, you’ll be free to look up and notice the magnificence of your surroundings.

This song resonates with me as I can’t imagine being able to vocalise these lyrics to someone I cared about. Yet…

Images: ninjabetic.com; briandunlop.com; amazingdata.com

Creating your own reality

You know this thing about how we manifest our own reality? Oftentimes, I ponder this exciting yet baffling concept. That and the philosophical riddle: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? If I fabricate my own reality, does anyone else even exist? If you shape your own reality, do I exist outside of your perception of me?


If I am the designer of my own world, why, for example, can I not tell the guy I have a crush on that I like him? If I am the one who makes it all happen, I would confess my feelings for him. And, of course, he would jump at the chance to be with me.

But maybe my thoughts about myself are limiting my possibilities for happiness. He wouldn’t be interested in me. I’ll never experience a functional relationship. I don’t deserve success, prosperity, good health. The wooden blocks I have been using to build my life with are rotten. As a result, the wonderful universe I am hoping to construct lacks a solid foundation. Sooner or later, my world will come crashing down and I am the one who’s going to be crushed.

Well how about this, reality? If you are mine to mould, listen hard to the following instructions. I want (and finally believe I deserve) all the good things this life has stored in abundance for me. If I promise to be positive and gentle with myself, I trust that you will hold up your end of the bargain. Nice doing business with you.

thelostuniversallaws.com

Bloody Valentine

Valentine’s Day is like an extreme form of Marmite. Either you can’t get enough of it or you would rather slit your throat with a rusty nail and fling yourself into shark-infested waters than deal with this sickly sweet 24 hours. Some of us can pretend the day doesn’t exist, and ignore the large red love hearts blazing out of every shop window. Others cannot banish the day from their thoughts, because their enthusiastic other half would not let them away with it, or because they feel devastated about being alone on this loved-up day.

Recently or pathologically single folk presume that everyone else is gushing with love and romance on this spring day. They imagine couples walking hand-in-hand by the water’s edge, gazing into each others’ eyes, whispering sweet nothings, sharing plates of spaghetti, and surprising their partners with enormous crimson cards, sparkling jewels, holiday plans, and maybe even a diamond ring.

The unwilling half of a couple experiences equal amounts of dread and disdain in the run-up to this marathon of mush. They know that if they don’t have something wonderful planned for their partner they are liable to lose a limb (or another highly prized body part). For the sake of their own sanity (and physical well-being), they trudge to the gift shop, buy the first card that grabs their attention, and grudgingly “surprise” their loved one with a bunch of flowers and the piece of jewellery that they were ordered to purchase.

A number of years ago, a friend and I held a quiet protest on Valentine’s Day. Instead of sobbing at Love Actually on the box and checking the post every five minutes, we decided to replace the celebration with one of our favourites- Hallowe’en. We rented horrors, munched on treats, and sipped red wine. We were screaming so much that we didn’t have time to dwell on being single. And after watching The Ring, we were just glad to be alive.

For whatever reason, I’ve been single more often than not on Valentine’s Day. And it doesn’t bother me. It’s just another day (apart from the fact that card companies, florists, restaurants and the like are a lot richer afterwards). I don’t have to think about buying presents, writing cards, or making dinner reservations. And I have more money to spend on myself.

“To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance.” Oscar Wilde

This year, instead of moaning about my single status, bitching about the shortage of romantic Irish men, or dissing the festival for being a “money-making racket” and an “exercise in soulless commercialism”, I am learning more about love. Recently, I have come to the delightful conclusion that I am loveable. I am getting to know myself more. I am discovering what I like in life. I have started doing the things I want to do. And I am thoroughly enjoying the process.

If you don’t know or love yourself, how can you love another, let alone believe that anyone would love you? There was a time when I looked at love dubiously. But I was confusing real love with romantic love.

"In real love, you want the other person's good. In romantic love, you want the other person." Margaret Anderson

Romantic love is often based on neediness and selfishness. You desire the person as a possession, as a tool to make you feel better about yourself. However, I’m beginning to see that there is another kind of love that speaks of balance and respect and sharing.

Once you know who you are and what you want from life, if you are fulfilled in what you are doing and treat yourself with love and respect, you are ready to move onto the next phase. And this is where love for another human being becomes possible. When you enter into a healthy relationship, you bask in the best parts of yourselves, and you accept and love the other bits too.

Relationships can be challenging. As Thomas Moore writes in his book Soul Mates, a struggle occurs between the soul’s need for attachment and the spirit’s need for freedom. When our partner seems distant, the soul becomes insecure and wants to hold on. When our partner clings, the spirit feels trapped and restless.

"A healthy relationship needs to create a balance between spirit and soul, expansion and constriction, freedom and commitment." Anodea Judith

So, this Valentine’s Day, if you’re part of a happy couple, do something nice together. Laugh and embrace. Remember the excitement of the first sparks of your romance. And celebrate the growth and intimacy that has developed since then.

And if, like me, you’re single, be thankful that you have this time and space to work on your self and your individuality. Love and accept each and every aspect of your being. Learn what makes you smile. Observe what fills you with passion. Witness the many ways in which you shine.

 

Images: Google

Ex-communication: unexpected message from an ex

This blog was created out of heart-break. Things had ended badly with an ex and, though I knew deep down that it was for the best, it didn’t stop the hurt and disappointment. After a number of horrifically depressing, grief-ridden days, I couldn’t stick the pain any longer. So I took out a notepad and started to write. It was then that I decided to turn this awful experience into something positive. And so, out of hardship, and after a considerable amount of pushing, a beautiful blog was born.

And out of this blog, I’ve been granted many marvellous things. I’ve rediscovered my passion for writing. I’ve received encouragement, praise and support from friends and family, and even from wonderful strangers with whom I never would have come into contact without this blog. My life feels fuller. I’ve realised that I don’t need a man to make me whole. And I most certainly don’t need a man who’s going to use and disrespect me.

Time really is the greatest healer. I hadn’t had any contact from my ex for almost a month. I know they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but sometimes, luckily, it just makes it wander. Even though he still has something belonging to a cousin of mine, I’d been feeling too weak and too raw to ask him to return it. I knew if we had contact, and especially if I saw him, I wouldn’t be able to resist his charms.

This guy, despite warnings from loved ones and even from the logical part of my own mind, had a huge effect on me. I enjoyed his company. He was fun and open and vivacious. He was also dangerous and damaged and destructive. But I cared about him. I adored his eyes and his infectious sense of humour. I loved his smile, the way his lips drew back and his dimples deepened. I had started to fall for him. I was always there for him. I helped him and listened to his problems. And then, just like that, he was gone.

He still visited me in my dreams. Constantly. Like I needed to process what had happened and how I was feeling because I hadn’t had the chance to do it in person. I was slowly coming to the conclusion that he just wasn’t good for me and that I was better off without him. Once I got past his dark curls and sparkling green eyes, his immaturity, insecurity and selfishness became visible. When I looked back on how he treated me, I could very clearly see that he hadn’t cared about me as much as I had cared about him. All I’d longed for was a better life for this lost boy who hadn’t grown up. And I genuinely still want that for him. But, even though I still care, I now care more about myself. I recognise that I was putting myself in harm’s way every time I allowed him back into my life. I was too attached. And each time he cut me off, it hurt that bit more.

This heart-breaking episode has shown me so much about what love is and what it definitely isn’t. Ever since I took my first step on this remarkable new journey, I’ve been shown that the most rewarding type of love is the love you give yourself. In my experience, no sooner are you taught a lesson, than you’re tested on it. If our education system is anything to go by, why else do we learn?

So, you can probably guess what happened next. A month after this beguiling and utterly confusing man disappeared from my life, I received a message from him. I opened it with dread and an irritating remnant of hope. He told me that he had noticed that I’d removed him as a friend on Facebook, which he said was “acceptable, considering my behaviour”. He wished me all the best in my future and signed off using his full name. He had always been dramatic. This was probably the fifth time he’d bestowed me with such a final sentiment. He definitely knew his way around those heart-strings! Tears crept behind my eyes, ready to leap out at any moment. I couldn’t help this initial, very physical reaction. But something within me had shifted ever so slightly. Every other time, I’d fallen for his mind-games and engaged him in conversation until he inevitably said something much like the following: I just want to say that you’re an amazing woman. You deserve the best things in life. And bam! He was back! You’d swear we were the over-the-top leading characters in the latest Nicholas Sparks’ romance! This time, however, I simply replied: “Thanks, you too. By the way, my cousin wants his Sopranos box-set back. You can drop it over to him any time.” And that is that. I’m putting all this behind me, once and for all, and I don’t even have to see him. Why torture myself unnecessarily?

Sudden contact from this exhausting ex momentarily robbed me of the serenity I’d recently been enjoying. That familiar see-saw of emotions resurfaced all too easily. I feel sad about the loss of someone I genuinely cared for. But I know now that I was never really helping him, I was merely another of his distractions. And I most definitely wasn’t helping myself. Since we’ve ended it (for the last time, honest!), I’ve had extraordinary insights into the crisscrossed highways of my mind and how I’ve been negotiating them. I recognise that it wasn’t even the loss of him that hurt so badly, it was more the belief that my life lacked something without him. I felt empty and I had nothing to distract myself from that. A surprising sense of gratitude swept over me. I now thank my ex for forcing me to wake up. Because, without him, this blog would never have come into being.

I sat with my feelings until I had a clear picture of what was going on for me. And then I smoothed on a soothing balm prepared by my loved ones in the form of a laugh-a-minute lunch with my family and numerous indignant and reassuring text messages from my closest friends. And then, as my spirits were rising, I found myself drifting towards nature.

I left the iPod at home and walked with my stillness. There was something surreal, something magical about this quiet evening. Frost spread across the grass like icing. Sheep huddled in silence. I stopped and really looked at one of these creatures. It was big and solid and woolly, with a face that reminded me of nursery rhymes. I wondered what it would feel like to hug it. Suddenly, a large flock of birds swooped overhead, dotting the pink and navy sky with black. Dark trees stood stoically against the sunset. A sense of calm washed over me. I breathed in all this beauty and peace and breathed out the heart-break.

I have finally released him.

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Click here for or a list of tips on how to survive heart-break.