The 7 Steps AA Doesn't Tell You About...

If the heart is merely a fist covered in blood, why does heartbreak feel like your internal organs have been pulled through your a** and left you stranded with rattling bones and a shell of your former self?

Are there rules to being heartbroken? More accurately, could we be bothered when even breathing is too demanding a task?
“I am doing this for my sisters”, I say. I propel myself forward, pick myself off the floor and swear this will not be in vain.

My boyfriend of 2 years, the husband-to-be, the former twinkle in my eye and spring in my step has unceremoniously dumped me. I’m blindsided, floored, gasping for air. When I wake up tomorrow and face a new reality, Doctor, what can I expect?

1) Anger
2) Denial
3) Pain, Trauma, Shock
4) Grief
5) Regret, Remorse
6) Acceptance
7) A new “normal”

This is just my humble, albeit very fresh and raw opinion. Please feel free to omit/add as necessary.

1) Anger
This is the beginning of our journey, my intrepid travellers. This is where you are allowed to vent: to him, to the nearest male, or your pillow for God’s sakes. Preferably him, since he did the damage. Don’t don a kitchen knife. Think before you speak. Have no regrets. Ask questions, get answers. Try to listen.
Take time off work if you need to. Don’t necessarily tell people what you are going through- you’re still letting it sink in. Enlist the help of trusted friends, rescue remedy, very loud and very angry music, chocolate, St Johns Wort, Valium, your treadmill, whatever. Get help if you need it. You will learn to carry Kleenex wherever you go. Your eyes and nose will no longer look like your own. Refrain from childish antics like keying his BMW or sending him a flaming bag of dog poo. Just don’t. Revenge is tempting, I’ll be honest. But it’s empty. Would I lie to you?!

2) Denial
“What, me worry?”… This is a cringe-worthy part of the process- you think that perhaps, if you sweep this under the carpet for a day, it will disappear. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, it’ll be next to him, not your 9 year old teddy bear, he’ll miraculously want you again, and your world will be perfect again. Ouch. Refrain from harassment, stalking, and worse, pretending you’re still a couple. Double ouch.

3) Pain, Trauma, Shock
This is where you want to steer clear from people who say “Oh no! You guys were the perfect couple!”, “But, weren’t you engaged?”, “Isn’t he the one with the huuuuge penis?” and “Shit! How old are you again?”.
He.doesn’t.want.you.anymore. That is all. What else is there to say? Distract yourself. Throw yourself into work, not oncoming traffic. Whether you like it or not, this is happening. To you.
I needed pharmaceutical assistance throughout this step, I’m not too proud to say. I told my friends and family (I needed to explain the consistent crying whilst serving customers, the weight loss and dark circles under my eyes). I partook in retail therapy. I spoke to anyone who had ears (and even some without). I enjoyed my selfishness. I called into a chat show (More about that on another blog update).

4) Grief
This is the part where every part of you, tangible or not, is writhing in pain. For me, it coloured every part of the ‘7 Steps’. The loss of what you dreamed could be. (Later, we will learn that ‘dreamed’ is the operative word). The admission that your reality was very clearly far from that. The concession that you are not as good a judge of character that you boasted you were. You want to punish yourself for being in this situation. If taking a pill would make the pain go away, you’d take 12.
I felt like the only person who’d ever been rejected in the history of the Universe. Fun was like some in-utterable dirty word. I hated him; I loved him, simultaneously Goddamn it all.
Start learning to say goodbye and let go. Yes, my friend, it’s happening, that day has come. Cry.
The most painful fact for me was the realisation that the dreams would never materialise. The honeymoon in Nevada, the ‘picket fence’, the pre-ordained baby boy with a mop of black hair and smiling brown eyes, the mutual joined-at-the-hip-ness, the everyday routine, the life we conjured up together over 5 hour inter-continental conversations month after month.
As our friends Frou Frou say: “there’s beauty in a breakdown”.
This stain will be there for some time, for me- forever. Just give me a moment……


5) Regret, Remorse
This is where you are able to face up to any responsibility you had in contributing to the factors that caused The Break-Up. Some people choose to forego this step, but I think it’s the most valuable of them all. You don’t want to ever go through this again, do you? Be kind to yourself. Bubble baths, long chats to loved ones, chocolate, spiritual revelations, The Notebook/Amelie/Single White Female, not doing the dishes, letting the world around you stay on pause. Reading psycho-pop chick lit. Write, write, write.
Incidentally, my Heartbreaker and I had to live together for a month before I left, so it was relatively unavoidable to hear where I went wrong. (Gratitude comes later). Take it on the chin.
Therapy, anyone?

6) Acceptance
Where you find some semblance of sanity through the madness of it all. Through some inexplicable act of God, you wake up one morning, and the fog is lifting. You can breathe without concentrating. You regain your joie de vivre. Ok, maybe just a little bit.
You start pondering the fact that maybe you dodged a bullet, maybe he wasn’t Superman after all, that maybe, just maybe, you will love again.
Start fantasising about singledom again. The joys of not being a domestic goddess. That today, you got another chance.


7) A new “normal”
This is quite the groovy place to find yourself. You have a new and improved heart (still functional! Wow!), and a whole host of lessons learnt that you never had before.
I’m still navigating this step, floating around it’s unchartered waters. I’m still figuring out where we went wrong, what I want from life/a man/a relationship. All I know for sure is that the appreciation is breathtaking. For my Heartbreaker, my amazing tribe of friends and family, my job, my mental constitution!, my Blackberry, music and Woolworths convenience food.

You’re whole again, something you can’t honestly say you are towards the end of a disintegrating relationship.

A dear, dear friend said he worried that after this, my second notable heartbreak, that I’d never give 200% in a relationship again. I wanted to prove him wrong.

Because in order to open your heart to real love, you run the risk of real pain, and as long I’m human, it’s the chance I’m willing to take!

HOW TO PREVENT YOURSELF BEING PULVERISED BY THE MAN YOU LOVE, ADORE, ARE WILLING TO DROP 17 DRESS SIZES FOR.

RULE ONE: NEVER DATE A MAN HOTTER THAN YOU. Except that very rare breed, you know, the Very-Good-Looking-Boy-Who-Was-Raised-On-A-Farm-Without-Mirrors and you are girlfriend #1. (It won’t last, and the sex is likely to be atrocious.)

TWO: Understand that he is not responsible for your happiness, financial security, cellulite, PMT and his friends. (And when you’ve fully understood this, share it with me.)

THREE: See relationships as a delightful bonus in your life, not the sole reason you wake up in the morning… This concept is tantamount to shaving your head; renouncing caffeine, chocolate and alcohol; wearing a saffron curtain of fabric and trying to be a Zen Buddhist within the society we live in. It’s gonna be hard.

FOUR: Be hot for yourself, not for someone else. Wear that lingerie, your ridiculously red lipstick and your “Stripperella” heels. I know a woman who had implants, a facelift, lipo and changed her hair from black to blonde in order to please her husband. HELLO?! They got divorced (*shock*) and she has no idea who she is. And it’s turning out to be expensive to remove the silicone and find out…

FIVE: Know this- men have affairs not because of sex, but because of the emotional connection she gives that you aren’t. Ouch. In fact, women cheat for that reason too. Men don’t talk and communicate as easily as we do, and sometimes we talk and communicate excessively enough to make him feel unheard and henceforth turn to someone else. Also, as long as there are women without standards, there will be affairs. Aaaargh. My head hurts.

SIX: Don’t promise the World and deliver an Atlas. Are you the witty, gorgeous, vivacious, football-watching, lawn-mowing, ambitious, delicious person he fell for? Um, and is he?

PPPardonez Moi?

Profess. Provide. Protect.

My, if only we all realised it was this easy. This is how you know a boy loves you, easy as pie, no ifs and buts.

1) Profess.
This is the _declaration_, the description of you loaded with intent. "Hey fellow colleagues at my work Christmas party, this is my baby-mama." Mmm. Feels good, doesn't it? Or at least it should... or else, you might want to get onto that.... Come on girls, you know if the man introduces you as "my friend Sarah Jane from stamp-collecting group" after you've been doing the wild monkey dance for 3 months... nah-uh, that's not what you want.

2) Provide.
Let's just get this out the way. You are not a gold-digger. (Are you?) You're a Noughtie's woman, confident in your splendourous ability to self-provide, self-spoil and pay for your own goddamn flowers on the 1st of spring. But we have kind of obliterated the male ego in the process. (Yes we have.) Suck it up and let him pay if he wants to. Money is a hot tin roof and sometimes you need to put on your tap shoes and dance.... He needs to know a certain level of providing is necessary, especially if a ring and a uterus are to be exchanged in this relationship...

3) Protect.
There's a reason why the concept that Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars (not Hell, silly!) is a multi-million dollar concept. We are inherently different. Men used to protect us and our offspring from sabre-toothed critters out the the sticks, 2 fazillion BC. You know a man has your back when the mole at the shoe store starts getting up in your grill for returning your most recent purchase and he steps forward with his chest puffed out to your defence. Yes, you want to feel like he's prepared to don the armour have it out with attackers on your behalf. (Shut up when he tells you what you should've said to your boss when you had a confrontation... he's Mr Fix It, and hot-darn, it looks sexy.)

This _didn't_ just take a moment...

THINGS ALL WOMEN SHOULD KNOW BY THE
AGE OF 28.*
* over and above the normal crap we’ve come to expect.

(As regaled by a woman with a self-proclaimed
black belt in relationships.)

I have learned that you want to be friends with your boyfriends’ friends. And if your efforts don’t work, that’s not good. (It’s strangely comforting to know that when you might break up, they’ll tell him what a knob he was to lose you.)

That he doesn’t shout at you in public, doesn't make you get a Brazilian every month, and shouts you the odd excessive gift isn’t something to be grateful for, it should be The Law.

You ALWAYS need to have your own independent support group. The kind of people you can rely on to hold your hair back whilst the consequences of drowning your sorrows take place.

Boys don’t like to feel responsible for your solitary friendship, even if that’s not the case. (And even if that’s a major perk of being in a relationship in the first place. Go figure.)

Hell may hath no fury like a woman scorned, but aforementioned fury will affect your health, your hair and your facial complexion. And your ability to smell the roses.

Impotence is not conducive to intimacy. And please don’t kid yourself that it isn’t personal. (Especially if it’s not lager-related.) After all, men think about sex every 6 seconds, right?

Never go to bed angry.

Keep a “Back Up In Reserve Guy.” Reality or fantasy, whatever works for you. (Infidelity is however never advisable.)

If it feels too good to be true, it is.

“GSOH” means Good Sense Of Humour. It’s no wonder it’s womens’ #2 Top Requirement. (#1 goes unsaid.)

Don’t try to make yourself seem weak to make him seem strong.

If your parents don’t trust him with their “precious cargo”, that warrants some looking into. (Unless of course, that was the desired effect.)

Don’t blur the lines between The Rebound and The One.

You may find angry music, exercise, red wine and flirting with harmless creatures at the deli most helpful in times of need.

A boy who smokes weed most days, has delusions of rock ‘n roll grandeur and waiter’s as his day job is not ever going to be featured in the Financial Times. Or at least, we can be 99% sure of this fact.

It’s not bullshit- if he doesn’t like his Mum or his sister, he’s weird.

If he’s hurt you and you’re crying (Miss Waterworks need not apply) and he says he’s got somewhere else he needs to be, that’s grounds for dismissal. Always.

Resist the urge to throw his guitars over the balcony and set his 1994 Levi’s alight in a drunken fit of histrionics. It’ll just make you look like the biotch his friends were saying you were.

If he’s been unfaithful, you will never entirely get over it. Truth.

If he is secretive and it hurts, run.

Boys nights and Girls nights are essential.

If you are resorting to other sources (men, tobacco, Facebook, chocolate, whiskey, work) to fill the gaping hole in your relationship, sort it out.

It might just be you, not him.

Don’t talk about your exes too much. Boys don’t seem to like this. Even if he knows and is present when if you’re friends with them all and have them around for dinner.

Avoid making more money than he does. And, if you do, deny, deny, deny.

You need to feel proud walking down the street with him on your arm.

Never invest more than you can afford to lose.

It’s a cliché, and you’re going to cringe, but you know it’s true- you can’t love anyone until you love yourself.
And keep loving yourself- it’s not selfish, it’s how all humans have to roll.

It really helps if he likes the same music as you do.

If you’re not sexually compatible, it’s going to be crap. Some would argue that getting sex out of the way as soon as possible may be necessary.

He needs to know how to say and show sorry. There’s no getting out of this in life.

Always have spare money stashed away safely for a rainy day.

Males don’t like sentences that start with “Can we chat?”. Female translation: “Up for cleaning the gutters?”.

Boys don’t like shopping- if they humour you, they’re lying, or worse, hoping for something for free.

Careful what you say when you argue. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a Court of Raw.

If he doesn’t believe in a Higher Power, it’s probably not going to go anywhere. (Especially not heaven. Haha.)

Never lie about how many people you’ve slept with.

Don’t assume. It’s how perpetual washing, cleaning and trying to be a Domestic Goddess happen, and one day you explode. He didn’t ask- but wasn’t complaining either.

If he recycles underwear, you have permission to leave at any time.

Say what you mean, and mean what you say.

Sometimes men are useless. The sooner we accept this fact, the better.

Relationships are supposed to feel good, if not awesome. Don’t look so confused- you seem to have forgotten all about this concept.

An online romance is not normal. Sorry.

Know and let it be known what your ‘dealbreakers’ are.

A dude who sometimes opens the door for you/straightens your shirt/doesn’t flirt with randoms/tells you when you look pretty is a requirement. When did this become an optional extra?

Boys need to know what they’re good at, want to do with their lives and where they want to go, in order to conduct a healthy relationship- further negotiations unnecessary.

Some jealousy is alright, a lot isn’t.

Respect the man. If you don’t anymore, just go.

If he’s just not that into you anymore, you’ll live. There are plenty of fish who can swim.

If he’s never travelled further than Botswana or Uitenhage, and you have, it’s going to be frustrating for all time.

If he’s got to 30 and never had a serious girlfriend, start worrying.

If it hasn’t worked despite your best efforts, pack your bags and leave, wearing your best Jimmy’s and your head held high. Denial is not a river in Egypt. Be grateful, some people never get to experience the sheer and utter pulverising Hell that is love.

The gut is the Guru, and the gut doesn’t lie. Period.