I broke my heart again a couple of weeks ago, the details of course are not the point (boring I know, but that could be another story…), but it felt as shit and torturous as every other preceding heartbreak before. But it’s not all bad.
1. I lost 2kg – a good bout of anxiety, tearfulness and loss of appetite, but it was probably 2kg of post baby tummy that went. Cool!
2. I started jogging. After years of talking about it, I downloaded an iPhone App and ran. It worked wonders for the anxiety, I could cry in the darkly lit streets, sing Pink “Fucking Perfect” while I ran and now I get to be even more shapely and fit. Hot!
3. I went to the salon and got my eye-lashes tinted (just to make me feel better), so while I had that kind of weepy look I didn’t get raccoon eyes from crying, but looked more smokey and vulnerable. Yes that’s hot too apparently.
4. I looked so crap from not sleeping, feeling vexed and worried and generally tragic that make-up was the only possible solution if I wanted to venture out of the house. A light lashing of mineral make-up works every-time. ‘Wow your skin looks amazing at the moment….’
5. Skinny jeans and boots are the only thing for tragic heartbroken types with skinny legs to wear. Need I say more?
6. I made a few feisty comments about men, just to make myself feel better, feisty with a touch of vulnerability, ooooh that’s smoking. And you can act like you really could never care about a man in your life ever again, which for some reason they like. It makes them feel safe? Or just safe from crazy serial heartbreak types?
And then (as actually I like to act shallow and humorous to mask my real vulnerability) I got real about it…
7. I started this blog (also something I’d been banging on about for years), because writing about it was so cathartic (even saying cathartic is cathartic) and I realised that my fear about starting was to do with my motive for writing, it’s not what my words said about me, but what they might give to other people – something to laugh at, or relate to, or think about. I’m not sure if writing a blog is hot (my teenage daughter looked a bit cringey about it, possibly it is similar to the way I felt about my Mum talking to retail assistants about her life when I was a teenager), but at least I started something motivated by the warm place inside me.
8. The hottest thing about my heartbreak is it makes me real. And all of a sudden I can re-connect with all the beautiful people in my life I was missing because my focus was totally somewhere else, and I realise that this experience puts me back in that place where I understand how much you can give if you just listen to people and love them, and someone who is being real, well they are really, truly the most smoking thing ever. Because your warmth comes out, and the tears are real, and all the love and the hurt and the heartbreak remind us how precious it is to have special people to share our lives with, and what a gift it is to truly be alive and feel what love is all about, even the heartbreaking bit.
So join me, in celebrating the women whose hearts get broken and they go out and do it all again – and not just for the weight loss and smokey eyes, but for a chance to learn about who they really are, so they get to be all that they can be. That’s pretty hot…..