No dating sabbatical


13-Feb-2016 17:35

I wasn’t creating five-step plans to help them end their toxic relationships, discussing them to death as they never followed through on their promises to leave.I wasn’t taking late-night phone calls to argue or vent. So with the dawn of 2016, I actually started to think about what I needed in a relationship—not what I wanted or was instantly drawn toward, but the qualities that would make me feel safe and supported.These men would retreat often, pushing me away, before returning with more promises about the kind of guy they were, sprinkling pretty words all over my tattered heart. Only I defined and chose my type, my type did not choose me, and I had the power to turn the tides. It also dawned on me that I hadn’t been called upon to “solve” any of their problems.I believed them, because there wasn’t another option; their behavior was all I knew, and everything I was conditioned to cope with. These friends built me up, and they never packed drama.After mindlessly throwing myself back into the dating pool in the immediate aftermath of the breakup, I decided to stop after that date in late July 2015.

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You hemorrhage emotionally, both from the wounds of a breakup and the wounds he created during your time together. My ex would approach me whenever he saw me around—in a coffee shop, in a parking lot. He’d ask how I was, tell me “a lot had changed for him,” or that I met him “at a strange time in his life.” He would ask me to meet him again sometime, start over with purpose. But after months of false promises, I knew not to go down that road with my ex.

I was sitting at the prettiest date restaurant, out with a guy I’d met several days before at a mixer.

He was sweet and upbeat, talkative and seemingly driven.

I had been like that for months, emotionally battered after my last relationship and closed off to connection.

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Looking back one year later, my brain has blotted out much of the months I spent with my ex.

I always walked away feeling the weight of all the raw edges inside my body; wounds he’d cut open months before, aching and not yet healed.