Why we always go back for the 5847th time

Like many humans in life, I crave normalcy. Not what everyone classifies as normal. I crave my normal. I’m talking routine of uni, gym, work, stressing, gossiping and socialising. The usual Monday to Sunday stressful rigmorale I had grown accustomed too. This includes my ex. Now this isn’t something new I’ve only just started. I’ve always done it. Every relationship I’ve been in irrespective of the duration or seriousness, at some stage or another I’ve re-visited. Nostalgic or dumb? You be the judge.

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Now I’m not saying it’s a given when things end that you are going to get back together. Obviously if there’s a scandalous reason for as to why you broke up, you aren’t to be blamed. Or you might just hate their guts. It’s all your prerogative and your bloody business. Not your friends. Not their friends. Not your parents. Not your gyno’s. No-ones but you and your (potential future) ex-bae.

The worst part after a break up is the fifty million questions that follow and the inevitable sledging that occurs. Now if you are going to try and salvage any form of ‘love embers’ (dad’s words, sick right?!); you need to quit the sh*t with the sledging. Because the second you even start paying this person attention again, EVERY single person you’ve ever said something to about them will remember and I guarantee that they will almost recite the exact wording re-creating the exact tones and pitch you used to first b*tch in the first place. Please note that this comes from a place of love and protection. I’ve been on both the receiving and giving end of this and let me tell you, it isn’t meant to come across judgy or b*tchy but more so think “big brother meets their innocent younger sisters first boyfriend who rides a Harley and is covered in tat’s” kind of protection. They love you. They want to protect you. They don’t want to see you get hurt. But as most people will learn, if they haven’t already, they can’t protect you. If you’re big enough and ugly enough to be in a relationship; you are big enough and ugly enough to cope with the BS that follows one.

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So thinking back to all of the tumultuous back and forth, two’ing and fro’ing ive done, I instantly am panged with so many “AH-HA” moments. Not just in relationships but errrthang. My hair; from blonde to brown to red to black (vom). My ideas on my career path; from police officer (lol) to au-pair to bartender in a strip club (got the job; pussied out) to going back to uni full-time whilst working two jobs. My exes; from thinking I was going to spend the rest of my life with my high school “serious” boyfriend to thinking that the bad boy I worked with would ever turn into anything more than a two-year booty call. Long story short, I’ve done it before and let’s be real, I’ll probably do it again.

I have friends that have gone back to their exes and they’re happily loved up. I have friends who have gone on to marry their ex partners. I have friends who have had kids with their exes. I have friends who went back for a bit of sexy-time and it turned to sh*t. And I know some people who think of their exes and instantly want to barf. It’s each to their own on this topic. All I know, is it’s none of my business and “you do you boo” definitely applies.

So who knows if it ever works out. All I know is that QANTAS ad really sounds good, it does feel like home (for now?).

Why is it so hard to take your own advice that you give out so freely to others?

I don’t know why but previously, during my early (single) years I was always the go-to for all advice on relationships. No idea why as it didn’t make any sense. Still doesn’t really. But everything from babies to fights to in-law problems, I knew it all. I could dish out advice quicker than they could tell me about their problems. I was the Buddha of relationships. Did my advice ever work? Probably not. Did they ever listen to me? Again, probably not. But my friends entrusted me with their problems and the goings-on and I was happy to oblige. Fast forward to now. Everything in my relationship turned to sh*t. And if it was a girlfriend going through this I would know exactly what to do, what to say, how to treat their ex-partner. I would be able to fix me. But when it’s your own advice, and you say it to yourself, you’re bloody Helen Keller 2.0. Blind and deaf to the entire thing.

Now, a little bit, ahem, older, maybe wiser, definitely more experienced and definitely more attune to the world around me, I am asked for opinion and advice on things regularly. The one thing that I wish I could solemnly do however, is give myself advice. And listen to it.

The best thing to do with pain, is wait. Sounds cliché AF but time really does heal all wounds. Whether it takes days, weeks, months or even years, it takes time. So you distract yourself. You might get a new hobby, or start reading again, or masturbate. You distract yourself so you don’t think about the pain that you’re feeling. You don’t want to spend time dwelling on the past, what happened or worse; what could’ve happened.

The weekends are the worst. Because even if you are trying to take a ‘break’ from alcohol aka becoming a drunk mess and crying in public; other people do not. Other people like to tell you their drunken feelings and opinions. A lot, and I mean A LOT of people will tell you that they never liked them, they always knew something was off about them or that they knew they weren’t right for you. Of course, unless these people are malicious a-holes, they are trying to be sincere and cheer you up. And of course, it doesn’t work, but I’m sure it helps them feel better to get it off their chest and to ‘help’ you.

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Until now, I hadn’t realised how much of a hard bitch I was when it came to other people. I was so quick and found it so easy to say, “dump him”, “move on, you aren’t happy”, “he doesn’t deserve you. He is so batting,” or my old favourite, “you deserve and can do so much better.” Who the F am I to say what someone else deserves? My other favourite was always something along the lines of reminding them to be the bigger person and to ensure that they stay the ‘mature one’. Safe to say, today I have failed my biggest advice BS spiel.

I have been petty. I have deleted every trace of that person from my life – the photos on my laptop, reset my phone to factory settings, deleted every trace of them and their friends off every facet of social media I could find. And of course after this, I decided to go investigating, ahem, stalking. Stalking for any skerrick of hope that they are hurting as much as I am, for answers, for opinions, for information on what he was doing. Why? Absolutely no idea. Did it help? No. Did it make me cry? Of course it did. It was inevitable, it had to be done for peace of mind, and in some weird twisted way it was therapeutic. I knew it was wrong because I would NEVER admit to anyone I was doing it. But this is all part of fixing myself. Since alcohol doesn’t work – found that out the hard way – I found this to be quite soothing, comforting almost.

So now I’m helping myself. I am literally doing everything opposite of what I would tell someone else to do. I am not going to kick myself over what has happened though. The actions that took place sucked and definitely kicked me in the hypothetical gonads but I sure as sh*t can’t change anything and I am beginning to see that I wouldn’t want to. I wasn’t, and he definitely wasn’t happy and we hadn’t been for a very long time. So it’s both a blessing and a curse.  I am going to jump on the hobbies bandwagon, take up tinder full-time, maybe dabble in knitting, smash through another three different seasons of some mindless TV shows and who knows, maybe take up bikram yoga? I’m not too sure yet. Maybe ask me next week what I end up doing.

Peace out, love recently retired advice girl x