The Blindsided Breakup Story

Breakup books above linked at the end of this post, some of which are affiliate links, FYI. I gain a tiny commission if any purchases are made through said links, which helps prevent me from moving back into my mom’s basement.

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I’ve been holding off on writing this for a while. It’s a sensitive topic, but that’s honestly not the main reason. You guys know I’m pretty much an open book, so if you can believe it, the reason that I didn’t want to write it, was out of respect for my ex. The person who showed me basically zero respect, I wanted to respect. Guess that’s what love does to you: makes you insane.

Before I get into the details, I want to say that this is obviously MY side of the story, and there are always two sides. I know very little about how he TRULY felt or how he’s doing now, so I want to acknowledge that. Because for all I know, he could be dealing with some serious issues and I have no idea. All I know is MY story.

Towards the end of our relationship, he was clearly being dishonest about his real feelings, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t happy and didn’t want to be with me anymore. Why? I still don’t really know, but you can’t fight someone who refuses to speak to you.

There’s a few educated guesses I could make about why he didn’t see us working out, but he never actually told me. He said “I decided we’re not right for each other long term” and when I asked why, he said he didn’t know. Perhaps he wanted to spare my feelings from the truth. But what a ghoster doesn’t realize, is that leaving you with nothing is much, much worse.

I liken it to being in solitary confinement. You’re alone in a room with a bunch of blank walls. You’re sad and confused. Someone gives you a pen. You start writing your own story on the walls. You fill in those blanks with whatever negative thoughts are in your brain. Why? Because our brains are wired for logic. We crave “closing the loop”, as they say. And when you can’t do that, it can quite literally drive you insane. The end result of you writing your own story is usually not even close to the truth. So if this has happened to you, don’t write your own story until you’ve had time and distance from it. I guess that’s what I’m doing now.

It’s been 10 months since my breakup, and I can safely say that if I had to do it all over again, there is not much I would have done differently. I’m not perfect, but I think for the most part, I handled myself maturely in that relationship, even up until and AFTER the breakup. Something I haven’t exactly excelled at in the past, so I thought that was worth mentioning.

You can do all the right things, but heartbreak doesn’t give a shit. It’ll find you. Everyone’s journey looks different, and it took me a solid 7-8 months to start feeling differently about it. So here goes nothing. I’m writing this in hopes that it helps anyone who is going through this or has gone through it. You’re not alone, trust me.

Please note I changed his name here, and anything you see in “quotes” is from my memory of the situations. Obviously I didn’t record It, but these aren’t exactly the types of conversations you forget.

We met on Hinge in May 2019. Let’s call him Steve. The first date was great; we met for drinks which turned into dinner and he asked to see me again a few days later. From then on, everything just flowed naturally and there were no glaring red flags. Nothing ever felt forced, there was no confusion or games being played. If I texted him, he texted back (within a reasonable amount of time), and he never flaked on me or bailed on plans. Ever. He seemed honest, genuine, and thoughtful. Most importantly, he had dated a ton of women before me and never settled down, so I thought to myself, he’s choosing you. And he made it clear that he was. It felt really nice and refreshing.

In hindsight, him not having a serious girlfriend before me probably should have been a bigger red flag than I made it, but I didn’t want to not give this person a chance just because he lacked relationship experience. I try to judge people based on their behaviors NOW, not their past. And nothing he did led me to believe “this person will break your heart so badly you won’t recover for a really long time”, if anything, his words and actions always aligned.

I felt like I knew him my entire life. We were comfortable around each other very quickly, we got along like best friends, and we had good chemistry. We didn’t have a ton of fights either (but we had SOME, no fighting is weird to me), so if you’re thinking we must have been one of those toxic couples who fights like crazy and can’t walk away from each other…nope. Couldn’t be farther from the truth. I felt like our relationship was based on kindness, affection, mutual respect, and trust – the things you should want in your mid-late 30’s. In my 20’s, I wanted highs, lows, and unsustainable intensity. Hard pass.

Anyway, fast forward to March 2020. I had just moved back into my apartment in Williamsburg, and I had lost all of my clients due to Covid (I’m a consultant for restaurants/brands). I was struggling a bit financially, he hated his apartment, and things had been going so well with us, we thought it might make sense to move in together. He said he had reservations about it, but I did too, so we talked about it a few times. PS – I have never lived with anyone before and I mean ANYONE – I’ve never even had a roommate in NYC, if you can believe it. But I digress.

“If you think this could be for the long haul,” I said, “why not give it a shot? You hate your apartment anyway.” I always try to lighten up the serious talks with a joke. He agreed and said we should do it, and not once did he bring it up after that conversation, at least not in a negative way. He seemed ready and happy about it.

To be fair, when we made this decision, I don’t think either of us expected that the pandemic and the work from home order would be in place for as long as it was. We really didn’t. But even with that factor, we lived together really well (in my mind). I am someone who likes my own space (again, never had a friggin roommate), and he REALLY likes his own space. I have a large one bedroom in Williamsburg, so I gave him rights to the living room basically and I worked from my bedroom. I am a very selfless person and I tend to go out of my way to make my partner happy (perhaps to a fault). But for two people who were around each other nearly 24/7, I thought we did a good job of giving each other space.

New Year’s Eve rolls around and we actually went to Key West. One of MY best friends rented a villa for the holiday and a bunch of us went down there. He didn’t even make us pay for the villa, mind you, so Steve got a free trip to Key West before he dumped me. Nice, right?

I thought we had a lovely time in Key West. He tried going scuba diving twice, but the weather wasn’t panning out, so he was disappointed about that. I hung back and read a book by the pool while he attempted that because 1- I’m not certified and 2- I don’t really care to scuba dive. I am of the belief that if you’re in a good, healthy, non-codependent relationship, you should be able to have separate interests. I bring up the scuba diving because it’s important. Trust me.

We went out for dinners and drinks with my friends, we laughed, we partied, and we rang in the new year. One of my friends even texted me and said “hopefully this is your last NYE as a non-engaged lady ;)” and I thought, wow she could be right! I don’t want to sound like a lovestruck moron, but I really thought Steve was my person. I cannot stress that enough.

Just a day or two after we got back from Key West, shit started to get a little weird. He was having what can only be described as panic attacks/mental breakdowns. Seriously. Really anxious, not sleeping, and crying for no reason. I remember these few moments very specifically:

He got out of the shower and his eyes were red. He looked like he had been crying. He walked up to me and asked, “can I have a hug?”

“Of course beb,” I said, like an idiot, “what’s wrong are you ok?”

“I just…I feel like I don’t deserve you. I’m not a good partner.”

“What are you talking about? You’re a great boyfriend I’ve told you that. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had, literally.”

After some more back and forth on that, as well as some more hugs and me reassuring him that I love him and he’s doing great, he said he felt better and that was that.

Next night, same thing, but with a little extra flair. We’re laying in bed and he starts up again with the anxiety.

“I don’t know I just have a lot of negative thoughts.”


“I don’t know I just have to talk to my therapist.”

“Can you talk to ME? I’m right here. What is going on with you??”

“I don’t know. You’ve had such an awful year with work and Bobo and everything and I don’t want to leave you alone…”

“Whoa whoa whoa. What do you mean you don’t want to leave me alone? You want to end this?”

FYI: Bobo was my cat of 14 years and I had to put him down last year around Thanksgiving, 2020. It was a very sad moment for me. I also lost my uncle due to Covid in April 2020. It wasn’t the best year, to say the least.

“No, no I don’t want to be single. I don’t want to date anyone else. I don’t want to break up with you. I just have to get to Friday and talk to my therapist.”

“Please tell me if there’s something going on with me or ABOUT ME that I should know about.”

“I don’t know I’m just confused and I have doubts. You’re perfect, you’re such an amazing girlfriend. You check all of my boxes like everything I ever wanted. When I met you I literally said to myself ‘don’t fuck this one up'”

“Ok…so now you’re telling me you want to fuck this up? Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know. I just have to talk to my therapist on Friday.”

This was Wednesday, January 6th.

Perhaps you could say this was my ONE BIG SIGN that things weren’t going well prior to the breakup, but this was also two days before the breakup. I wasn’t exactly given a chance. Yes, we had fights during the course of our relationship, but they were few and far between, and even if they were “bad”, they were always handled maturely. I never worried because to me, they were never that bad, but maybe to him they were, I don’t know. Regardless, he sounded very different and not like himself this time, so I pressed him a little. He maintained that it wasn’t about me and that I’m perfect.

First off, no one is perfect, but ultimately there was not a BONE in my body that thought he truly wanted to leave me. In my mind, I knew this man. I knew him and I loved him. And he loved me. I trusted him. He would NEVER do something crazy like that without talking to me about it in depth first. I was concerned, obviously, but in my GUT, I was like…no way. He’s just going through some shit, I said to myself, we’ll be ok, but I am definitely going to talk to him more about this tomorrow and help him figure it out. Because that’s what a relationship is.

Thursday morning. I texted a few friends and said “I’m worried about him,” and gave them the details. They asked why he’s in therapy and I told them what he told me. I won’t air THAT part of his dirty laundry on here because that feels wrong, but let’s just say when he started therapy, I asked him point blank if it had ANYTHING to do with me, and he said no. I repeat: He. Said. No. He lied to my face about it, I just didn’t know he was lying then.

As someone who has plenty of experience with therapy, I don’t think it’s something you need to discuss with your partner unless it has to do with them. You should tell them you’re IN therapy, but you don’t have to divulge every little detail. I thought I was giving him the courtesy of not prying. I would even leave the apartment and go sit somewhere for an hour or go to the gym to give him full privacy for the zoom session. Additionally, I always thought I created a safe space for him to come to me IF there was anything I should know.

Guess I was wrong.

Thursday night, January 7th: he’s out with his friends and I wanted to give him space, so I didn’t even text him. I let him come to me if he wanted to, especially after this shitshow of an emotional week. Then, he texts me. “I’m heading home soon (smiley emoji)” I ask why so early and he says he didn’t want to drink too much because of the anxiety. I said I’m making tea and asked if he wanted some. He said “yea I do! Thanks beb (kissy face emoji)”.

He came home, kissed me, laid in bed with his tea and put the TV on. I crawled in with him. We laughed while watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, said our I love you’s, and fell asleep, cuddling. Magical, isn’t it?

Friday, January 8th, 6 am. I heard stirring next to me. He sounded like he was crying and went to the bathroom. I stared up at the ceiling and felt so sad for him. Little did I know I should have felt sad for me. Because soon enough, he came back and said “I can’t do this. I have to break up with you.”

And that’s when I went into shock.

“Please don’t do this,” was all I could manage to say, over and over. Then I started crying. And this is the part that gives me the chills, still: the second he said he was leaving me, his whole appearance changed. Facial expression, body language, the tears, everything. He stopped crying and stood up from the bed in a weird, robotic motion, and just stared at the bed, not at me. He looked upset, while still somehow at peace; like he had gotten rid of some evil bug in his system (our relationship, I guess).

He wouldn’t look at me and kept saying “I know this is the right thing to do. I’m sorry. But I know this is the right thing to do. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

Survival mode kicked in. I tried fighting for us. I was unprepared for this, but I’m half Jewish. I know how to argue.

“HOW is this the right thing?? Where is this even coming from?? We haven’t even had a fight since OCTOBER! This is not ok. Please think about this, I beg of you. I think you might be battling a bit of depression and you’re pushing me away because I’m the closest thing to you. Please we are great together – think about this. Go to your moms and I’ll go to my moms. I’ll give you some space to think. I know it’s been hard being around each other all the time but this isn’t the answer. I have had a ton of relationships and I know what a good one looks like and what a bad one looks like. This is a good relationship. I am good and you are good. Together we are GREAT. Please. I think you’re making a huge mistake. Please go to your moms and think about it, don’t end this. Please.”

“I don’t think so. I think I fell out of love. I’m very confused and I know I can’t do this while being here in this relationship.”

“This is so unfair. I’m JUST learning that you’re unhappy and you don’t even want to TRY and figure out why, together?? You just want to run?”

“I’m sorry. But I know this is the right thing to do.”

That shit again. Over and over.

I grabbed our anniversary photo off the wall and threw it on the bed in front of him. I can be dramatic when I want to be and this felt like the right time.

“We have a life together,” I said, pointing to the photo. “We live together. Please think about what you’re doing to us.”

I told him I’d take a cab to my mom’s place. He wouldn’t even drive me to my moms, even though it was on the way to his parents’ place. I thought that was crazy but again, I wanted to give him space.

He said “can you please go first? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him like he was insane. “You don’t want to leave me alone for 10 minutes while I wait for an Uber, but you’re ok with walking out of my life forever? Do you hear yourself??”

After that, he left. I was still in disbelief, but I really thought he would come to his senses. He said he would go to his moms and think, so I thought ok, MAYBE I have a chance.

FUN FACT! Do you know what he ACTUALLY did?? He went home to Long Island, got his parents and his brother, came back to the apartment and started moving his shit out without even telling me. Yes. While I was in a ball on the floor at my moms house, crying so hard I was drooling on myself, he was already moving out. We didn’t even have ONE conversation yet, but he was done. I was devastated – not eating, completely despondent – yet he had the gross motor skills to drive a car and lift boxes? The only thing I had successfully lifted was a bottle of wine and a xanax chaser to the face.

I didn’t know he had done this until the next day though, because I didn’t pick up the phone once. I didn’t text. I didn’t drive to his house and beg for answers. I said NOTHING and I did NOTHING. I said to myself, you know him and he knows you. You have a great relationship. He’s gonna see that. Don’t harass him. Give him the space to miss you. He’ll come back.

My dad called him that night and convinced him to come to my apartment the next day and talk to me. MY DAD. My Dad is wonderful but we are not THAT close on these matters. My mom is like my best friend and she knows everything about my relationships, so for MY DAD to get involved, that’s serious. Shows you just how blindsided EVERYONE was in this scenario, not just me. He really fooled me and my entire family. It was fucked.

When he reached out to me, there was no love in his messages. Not a drop of emotion, not a modicum of empathy.

“Hey. Hope you are ok. Let me know your schedule tomorrow so we can talk.”

First off, two spaces between the sentences? Let me know your SCHEDULE? Periods? Why don’t you just put me out of my fucking misery and sign off with “Best, Steve.”

During that text exchange, it was already clear that he was really done. So robotic and cold, it was like talking to a stranger. I said something like “wow this is really it for you?” Amongst a few other questions, none of which he answered.

And then he sent a long text with the gist being “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, stay at your moms for another night or two.”

At this point, I still haven’t picked up the fucking phone, barely texted, and he was treating me like I was calling him every 5 minutes and screaming at him. I somehow stayed level headed but I was annoyed, so I replied. I was firm but I wasn’t being a cunt, you know? My text was long but to sum up:

“I need to talk to you. Staying at my moms another night will not help me understand this. You are the only one who can help me understand this. Please do the right thing.”

Long story short, I convinced him to come back to the apartment and talk to me.

When he got there, we had a long-ish talk. I’ve had longer, to be honest, with people I didn’t like nearly as much but that’s neither here nor there. So I will paraphrase what I believe to be the important parts.

“I was never happy here,” he said, “I was not ready to move in when we did. I thought it was fast.” To which I asked, “why didn’t you say something then??” No answer.

He was 35 and I was 36 when we moved in. We had been dating (exclusively) for a little over a year when we moved in. At 24 or 25, I could say that’s maybe fast. At our age? I like to think you know what you want, you’ve both been around the block, and it’s not abnormal AT ALL.

“We also never discussed marriage.”

Me, flabbergasted at this one: “I asked you multiple times ‘do you see yourself marrying me one day?’ and you ALWAYS said yes. Did you want me to break out an Excel sheet and make a timeline? You know I’m not in a rush and I’ve never pressured you on this.”

“Yea I know but it’s not just that. We don’t have chemistry. And we’re too similar.”

“What?? We wouldn’t have made it past date 3 if we didn’t have chemistry. That’s a contradictory statement. We have similar interests which is a good thing.”

“I don’t know… it’s just a feeling. And also you don’t like scuba diving.”

Please hold for laughter.

“Are you…fucking high…right now??”

“I mean. I would have loved for you to be on that boat with me in Key West.”

I looked around for cameras. This had to be a prank.

“You think if I knew my relationship was on the chopping block because of fucking SCUBA DIVING I wouldn’t have strapped on a tank and jumped in?! You cannot be serious!”

Now, for those of you reading this, I’m well aware that at the end of the day, these are all excuses. But you have to see the humor in your life, right?

Then I asked if there was someone else and even ASKED to look in his phone, which I NEVER do. It was uncomfortable but I was CONVINCED there was someone else. He let me, which was shocking, but I didn’t look in WhatsApp or Instagram (rookie move). I was frazzled and not thinking clearly, what can I say?

I didn’t see anything alarming except some text exchanges with a girlfriend of his asking about apartments/parking spots near where she lives. She’s married, so I didn’t think anything was going on with them, but it just proved that this was, in fact, VERY premeditated. He had been thinking about this and talking to other people about this for a while. The only person he didn’t talk to, was me.

Then, as if on cue, he looks me in the eye and says:

“I don’t know, I just think there might be something better out there.”

I stopped laughing. I stopped crying. I went numb.

I looked at him and said, “Ok. You can fucking leave now.”

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

I can’t even begin to explain the pain I felt in that moment, but I knew it was done. I stayed at my mom’s house for 2 weeks. Barely eating, just drinking wine every night to sleep for a few hours. And lots of anti-anxiety meds. Mom occasionally force-fed me grilled cheese and matzo ball soup, which I have to thank her for, because those two things make a delightful meal.

After a couple days, I sent him one of those LONG emails that most people say you shouldn’t send. But you know what’s funny? It’s been 10 months and I stand by every single fucking thing I said in that email. I’ve actually gone back and read it. It wasn’t mean, it was just raw, honest and firm. Typically, I try to stay away from “you” statements like “you did this” and “you did that”, but by that point, I quite literally could not care less. I went on the offense in that email and I don’t regret it one bit. He deserved it.

I never expected him to reply to that email, so after a few more days of zero contact, I texted him and asked (nicely) to please meet me to get the stuff he left at my apartment, as well as chat and give me my closure conversation I was so desperately seeking. I had questions still and he knew that, so now that the dust had settled a little, I wanted answers to them. I wasn’t trying to get him back and I made that clear. I told him I wasn’t going to try and change his mind, because I have never been more convinced that someone DIDN’T want to be with me, but I still. had. questions.

He replied with a long novel about why he didn’t want to talk, how he decided we weren’t right for each other long term, how HE had been “fighting for us” for a long time, and how HE was heartbroken and needed time to heal. He promised to meet me in the future but “not now” because “he wasn’t ready.” How HE became the victim in all this, I will never understand. He didn’t have to leave without warning. He didn’t have to make it MORE painful for both of us.

I told him that you can’t fight for a relationship when only one person is doing the fighting. I had no idea there was something that required fighting in the first place. He could have respected me THAT much and given us a chance, because a relationship is TWO people. But he decided the relationship was over, and I had absolutely no say.

I told him calmly that I would give him space to heal, but that I would appreciate an opportunity to have a clear and honest discussion about what happened at some point, because clearly something was missing here. Like why he never said anything about how unhappy he was, and worse, why he let me believe that we were happy for so long? How could he have pretended SO well? He bought me a Peloton for Christmas for cryin out loud. It’s kind of disturbing. So I sent this well thought out text and turns out…

He blocked me before I could even reply. Literally, he told me he didn’t want to talk and then blocked me. On text, Instagram, Facebook, etc. He just had ZERO time for me and my thoughts and feelings.


I’m sorry but are you kidding me?? I was floored. I sent one email and had been compliant with everything he asked for. I didn’t even fight for him and he blocked me anyway. Perhaps I should have fought more, but when the man you love looks you in the eye and says “I think there’s something better out there,” you let him go and fucking find it.

I never got the “closure” I wanted, and I know there’s a school of thought that says “closure isn’t real”, but I maintain that having my questions answered would have been helpful. It would have been the kind thing to do, even if the truth would have hurt my feelings initially. I was really messed up from this and I didn’t deserve the way he ended it. It was cowardly and dishonest.

Not one drunken “I miss you” text.

Not one ounce of respect.

The opposite of love isn’t hate, my friends. It’s indifference.

I got “I hope you’re well” and “take care”.

I say that to clients and the people who do my taxes, respectively. It was absolute hell for a while there. I blinked and he was gone.

I would wake up in the middle of the night because I thought I heard him say my name. I’d reach for him and he wouldn’t be there. It was really fucking sad. I had to live in the relics of our relationship every single day, while he got a new apartment and had already mourned the relationship while he was in it. The relationship felt like one big lie and it really, really fucked with my head.

Did I dream this relationship? I’d ask myself.

I felt completely insane for months. I recounted every moment of our relationship that I could remember, looking for holes in the plotline. I found nothing.

“He bought me a Peloton for Christmas. Who buys a $3K bike for someone they don’t want to be with?”

“He bought me flowers and left a cute note next to it a week before he left. What kind of mind game is that?”

“There must have been someone else.”

“How does he not care at all how I’m doing? How can he be so heartless?”

“Was I a bad gf? I must have been horrible to him for him to end it like this.”

Remember that solitary confinement shit I mentioned earlier? That’s what it looks like.

Allow me to be clear in that I wouldn’t want him to be the ex that never goes away either. No one needs that toxic shit. But ONE drunken “I miss you” text, I would have LOVED to get. Or “hey I lost a testicle in an unfortunate scuba accident but I’d be happy to chat,” would have been great. GIVE ME FUCKING SOMETHING. It would have made me feel like “ok at least I meant something to this person and he still thinks about me in some capacity, once in a blue moon.”

But no. Nothing of the sort, not even a LinkedIn search. He erased me. It was like I never even happened.

I have never felt so unimportant and insignificant to someone that I shared a life with for almost 2 years. I know that might sound dramatic, but it’s true. It really messed with my self-esteem, which took me a long time to correct, and it’s just really unfair. He promised me that conversation and I never got it. At this point, I have a feeling I never will and thankfully, I’ve learned to accept that.

I did try though. I’m not a bitch who backs down and I go after what I want. I reached out via email twice over 7 months, but that’s it. Once in March (he replied, but gave me nothing and pulled some classic gaslighting BS) and then a few months later in July (no reply). By then, I felt a lot better and just wanted to see how he was doing, as well as hopefully get some answers. But if he wasn’t ready, I wasn’t going to push for it, and I said that. He was an important person in my life and I just wanted to squash it and put it behind me, once and for all. But again…he never replied. I never heard one word from him after that email in March.

So, after ALL that, I really am doing a lot better. I’ve accepted that this conversation will likely never happen, but I just think it’s absolutely insane that men pull shit like this because they think we, as women, can’t handle the conversation. My ex literally moved to another state to avoid the conversation (seriously he moved to Chicago).

And to anyone out there who’s dealing with this: I am so, so sorry. I feel for you. More than you know. But trust me, it really does get better. It might take a long time, but you will get there. Here’s how I got there:

Watch Ted Lasso (repeatedly), eat this pasta regularly, and invest in therapy. Cry it out to your friends, have sleepovers until you’re ready to sleep on your own again, and find LITERALLY ANYTHING that brings you joy. I actually keep a “joy journal” and write down all the little things in life that make me happy. It seems silly but it really does help quantify how much we have to be happy about. It won’t take away the pain of what happened and I’m not going to pretend it will. But the action of moving forward – taking those baby steps to feel like you again – that’s what will take away the pain.

I’ve had a lot of serious setbacks in my life but I’ve always bounced back. And I’m proud to say that I’ve done a lot of work on myself and my career in these last few months, and I’m really happy with where I am.

There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t cross my mind, but it doesn’t prevent me from smiling anymore. I refuse to let him take that away from me. I see who he is now, and he is not the person I thought he was. It’s sad, but you can’t force someone to do the right thing. You can only control your own actions and emotions.

And hey (insert ex here) if you’re reading this, I hope you’re doing well. Things aren’t the same without you…because they’re better. And in the future, if you don’t want an ex to write a novel about you on the internet, don’t ghost them. Take care!

Break Up Resources:

Feel good TV Shows and Movies (crowd-sourced from my IG) – I made a list of TV shows and movies from my followers on IG. Ted Lasso was the #1 recommendation and I’m so glad I asked this.

Attached – EXCELLENT book about attachment theory and how it affects our relationships. Cannot recommend it enough.

Breakup Bootcamp – LOVE Amy Chan and I took her actual Breakup Bootcamp in February, but I read the book first. Highly recommend.

Love Warrior – Glennon Doyle’s book was a really great read. A little Bible-y for my taste but overall, an excellent book about relationships and most importantly, loving yourself.

Angry Cooking & Catharsis – SSP (shameless self promotion) but here’s a bit about where I was in Feb 2021.

Make Progress, Make Eggs – Ok SSP again, but this was a good example of my “Joy Journal” and the baby steps as they were happening in May 2021.

How To Fix a Broken Heart – Guy Winch. I dive head first into all things media and education when I’m in pain, as you can tell. Anything that might help me see things from a different POV, and this talk helped A LOT.

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