How To Cope With A Breakup

Dear Dr. Darcy, 

I’m a single mom with a 13-year old son. I met an amazing man a year ago and he was showering me with feelings. I felt I could finally trust someone and open up. He started planning a future together, looking for a house to buy together, and he was great with my son. 

Suddenly, he started struggling with being in a family unit. He broke up with me saying he doesn’t love me and he never did. [He says that] everything he said in the past was how he felt in that moment. I don’t know how to cope. 

 

I want you to know that everyone reading this felt the blow from that asshole’s gut punch. What a betrayal. I’m so sorry for what you must be going through. 

I find myself wanting to say all the things I counsel clients to avoid when a friend is going through an unplanned breakup  — you dodged a bullet; thank God it happened before you got married; he did you a favor — which may be true, but certainly isn’t soothing. 

You gave that man (a term I use here loosely) an opportunity to be part of a family, and instead of cherishing your son and you, he ran.

Maybe he ran from the imagined burden that comes with a child, or from a wife, or from a mortgage, or from a long-term commitment. Or maybe he ran from all of it. 

We’ll never know and I encourage you not to waste your time trying to figure it out.

What I do want you to focus on is the one thing he can’t take from you without your consent: Your ability to trust and love. 

That relationship allowed you to heal something. You were able to trust again. And that capacity is still in you. 

When devastation hits, our tendency is to land on a takeaway to protect against it in the future. 

The takeaway you choose will determine your prognosis. And not just yours, but also what your son learns about loss. 

The broader the takeaway — the more general it is — the more significant your limp will be. 

Which is why I suggest you keep it specific and focused on one man. Not all men. 

Because your son is a boy who will one day become a man. 

And we want him to live with integrity.

To know he is trustworthy. 

When life has gutted me, I’ve used two strategies to peel myself off the ground:

I pretend that my clients, my students, and You are watching how I respond. I am, above all else, not a hypocrite, and I endeavor (however imperfectly) to do the things I’d want you to do. Imagining that you’re watching gives me the strength to act accordingly.

My second strategy is rooted in ego: I refuse to let them fucking win. They may have hurt me, but they will not leave me with scars or turn me into someone I don’t want to be. I will recover. I will survive. My stubbornness and pride will fuel a level of motivation which, so far, is boundless. 

Let your son see your resilience. Let him know that it was that man who wasn’t worthy.

Decide that this breakup will make you better. Not bitter.

 

Writer’s Demographics

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Straight