It's Not Okay: Turning Heartbreak into Happily Never After by Andi Dorfman Read Free Book Online

easy to find yourself (especially in moments of weakness) contemplating going back. But the last thing you want is for others to see that weakness in you. As much as I know how toxic my relationship became, at this moment, I miss it. I miss my ex. I miss the love we once had, the memories we made, and the security I felt. I find myself wanting to go back to those days all the time, forgetting about the bad times. But the fact that people know about the breakup makes me think twice. I can only imagine the field day the tabloids would have if I went from engaged, to single, to re-engaged.
    Okay, so maybe not everybody has to worry about the tabloids, but think of it in terms of something we can all relate to: credit card debt. You’ve got loads of it when all of a sudden you learn that the fabulous pair of shoes you’ve been eyeing for months are on sale! If nobody knows of your financial crisis, you’re obviously getting the shoes. But let’s say a friend knows about your debt. You know damn well that the minute she sees you wearing those new shoes, she’s going to have something to say about it. So, you think twice, you feel accountable, and thus you avoid making a poor decision. The same goes with your breakup. It’s bad enough that people are going to ask you about the breakup, imagine what they’ll ask about the makeup.
    It’s embarrassing.
    You feel like an idiot. How could you actually think you had found your soul mate? You feel ridiculous for having been so happy. You were the picture-perfect couple—when others fought, you kissed. While your girlfriends complained about their significant others, you felt grateful. Now that it didn’t work out, you feel shitty, stupid, and self-conscious.
    Trust me, I feel your pain. There are two things in life I hate most: delivering bad news, and embarrassment. And now, here I am doing both. I’ve never felt stupid for believing I had fallen in love on a reality show and met my soul mate in just eight weeks. Everyone predicted we would break up, and though we were hell-bent on proving the critics wrong, in the end they were right. I had been sashaying around for nine months with a giant diamond ring and a giant smile to match. I loved being able to show people how in love we were, because we actually were, and because I had never had that chance in my life. And now it’s all gone. All that’s left is the single girl, with no home, no fiancé, no future, and a dream ring that producers are going to ask me to return any day now. I’m ashamed it didn’t work out and now that shame is out there for everyone to know, laugh at, and judge.
    But the truth is, the last thing you should feel over a breakup is embarrassed. Feel pain, feel hatred, guilt, remorse, whatever you want, but don’t punish yourself with shame. This is your breakup, and people will talk shit about you either behind your back, or behind a keyboard, but fuck ’em! They don’t live in your world, they don’t know what you’re feeling or what went on behind closed doors. Have you ever met a hater who was doing better than you? Yeah, me neither.
    It’s identity theft.
    The person I have become, the person people have come to know me as, is gone now. Nobody knew me as an attorney or a good friend or a loving daughter—they knew me as the chick on a reality show who got engaged and became the happiest fiancée in the world. Now, I’m another statistic, just half of another couple that called it quits. I am . . . “formerly engaged.”
    And it’s not just the title that changes, it’s our way of life. When we get into relationships, we blend our life with our partner’s in so many ways that we don’t recognize the person we were before the relationship. Your friends become his friends and vice versa. Your weekend plans are joint plans; your lives intertwine into one. So when that joint life is taken away, you can’t help but question who you are now, right? Think of this identity theft as a gain,