There’s no clean way to organize the mess of a breakup, it's like a mental junk drawer—we all have one somewhere. It's crammed with expired batteries, tangled cords, takeout menus from restaurants that don’t exist anymore, and that one mystery key you refuse to throw away. Looking through it, you're suddenly knee-deep in memories you didn’t ask for and debating an impromptu haircut.
Your brain, ever dramatic, doesn’t just take the hint and move on. No, it processes heartbreak like an actual wound—thanks, biology!
Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist, has studied love and loss for decades and found that breakups activate the same brain regions associated with physical pain. That’s right—your heartbreak isn’t just in your head, it’s in your nervous system, lighting up like a city skyline during a blackout. Your brain, still convinced your ex is essential for survival, floods you with longing and withdrawal symptoms that resemble those of a drug addict. No wonder you’re tempted to re-read old texts like they hold the secret to the universe.
Let’s talk typical reactions. Some people go full Sherlock Holmes, scrutinizing every text, conversation, and subtle eyebrow raise as if the key to the breakup is hidden in a cryptic message only they can decode—hello, Anxious Attachment. Others take the "reinvention" route—new wardrobe, new haircut, possibly an ambitious fitness plan that lasts exactly three days—see you later, Avoidant. Then there’s the inevitable text temptation, where suddenly, sending a casual "hope you're well" at 2 a.m. feels like a great idea. (Spoiler: it’s not.) And of course, the classic heartbreak diet swings between ‘comfort food marathon’ and ‘accidental fasting’ because cooking for one just feels sad.
For those needing a little catharsis, look no further than Angela Bassett’s iconic scene in Waiting to Exhale, where she sets all her cheating husband’s belongings ablaze in his car. The controlled destruction of sentimental objects has long been a breakup ritual in cultures around the world. In Balinese tradition, the Ngaben cremation ceremony symbolizes the release of attachments. While traditionally meant for the deceased, the idea of burning the remnants of a past relationship to free oneself from emotional ties is deeply cathartic. There’s something about watching flames consume the past that makes space for a new beginning.
Not all breakups are created equal. A brief situationship may require nothing more than an awkward unfollow and a strong cocktail, while a long-term love can feel like a full-blown crisis.
Then there's the Boomerang lover—you know, the one! They vanish into thin air, only to resurface months (or years) later with a poetic speech about how you were their home all along. After all, they had to "see what else was out there," only to realize that the grand adventure was mostly a string of forgettable flings in the form of a mid-life crisis. And the grass wasn't actually greener—it was just Astroturf.
Meanwhile, the lover left behind has been licking their wounds, picked up pickleball, and mastered the fine art of self-respect. We've all been on both sides and recognizing this pattern matters—because while we want our version of being chased through the airport, the grand ever after is a fantasy. But clarity on what truly happened and what’s best for us is entirely real.
So, what do we actually do with this mess? First, acknowledge that it’s a process, not a race. You can’t fast-track your way through heartbreak like skipping to the good part of a bad movie. Give yourself space to grieve. If you need to cry on your kitchen floor while eating a tub of ice cream, congratulations, you’re doing it right.
Next, rewrite the narrative. The brain loves closure, but real closure isn’t about waiting for the other person to say what you need them to say. In fact, David Sbarra, a psychologist specializing in relationship dissolution, suggests that the most effective way to move on is to actively shift your focus toward your own growth rather than searching for explanations that may never satisfy you. Disrupt the cycle of obsessing over "what went wrong" by focusing on "what I learned." You’re not just getting over someone; you’re breaking upwards.
Then, there’s the matter of detox. That means setting boundaries—digital and otherwise. If you're likely to end up in the swamps of social media stalking that somehow land you in your ex’s third cousin’s wedding photos (which you accidentally liked - eek)—it’s fine. We’ve all been there... right? Mute, block, or archive if you must. If keeping them in your life feels like picking at a scab, then let it heal. You wouldn’t keep a splinter in your foot just because you were once fond of it.
The best way to deal with heartbreak? Get curious about yourself again. Reconnect with the people, hobbies, and parts of you that may have taken a backseat. Laugh at yourself when you start composing a poetic text you’ll never send. Embrace the absurdity of it all. And when you do start to feel whole again, know this: You are not defined by who you loved or who left. You are, and always have been, your own person. And that person? They’re going to be just fine.
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