Getting Over the Worst Break-Up

I’ve heard some really horrible break-up stories in my day. One of the worst was when my friend got dumped after her boyfriend went away for a vacation. During the period of one week he had met a new girl, brought her home, and moved her in. Oh the heart ache she must have felt. It truly was a horrible way for him to end things. But I remember this particular break-up story because I remember how well she handled it. She was strong, mature, and had no urge to destroy him or his new girl. How did she do it? Maybe she cried every time she was alone or maybe (hopefully) she consumed high levels of alcohol so that she could drown her sorrows away. I knew this girl well and the bottom line was she just got over him, moved on, and never looked back.

I am the polar opposite. My worst break-up ever was with someone I dated for about 8 months. I was 28 he was 30 and we were in love. Things moved pretty quickly and I knew, just knew, he was the one. He was about to be a lawyer, an Italian like me, and we were basically compatible.

So how did he break up with me? The last normal conversation I had with him was amazing. We had agreed to move in together and finally start our lives. Oh my god this was it!! We would live together, get married, have babies, have more babies, renew our vows… and…. um…. yeah, all that other crap. God help me.

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How Online Dating Saved My Life

For me, dating was never easy. Although I considered myself mostly extraverted, I was never bold enough to actually approach a random guy. When I was in my early twenties I lived in a small college town. My only real option for meeting new men was out at a bar or through work. I worked at the local college surrounded by women and guys too young to buy beer. And bars? First of all, I’ve never been a big drinker. And most importantly, I could never really take a guy seriously when he’s mostly drunk and probably snuck into the bar using a fake ID.

During my mid-twenties I made a huge move and relocated to New York City. I thought for sure that living in the big city, my dating life would be ignited. Man was I wrong. Now, I do consider myself an attractive woman, but come to find out the ratio of attractive women to men in NYC is quite ridiculous, one hundred to one I think. So I lived there for a year, sucked it up and went to bars, and went on a total of three dates. Three dates. One was with some accountant who was generally nice, but not my type. The other two dates were with a hair dresser who worked on the set of Sex and the City named Sasha (yes, his name was Sasha). Let’s just say that even the idea of possibly meeting Sarah Jessica Parker wasn’t enough to make me stand this guy for another second.

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