Thank You Mr Wrong. I Couldn't Have Got Here Without You
When one generally thinks of a breakup, one often imagines a double-barrel, snot-bubbling ugly cry in a dark room, duvet pulled over head, empty ice cream containers littering the floor and lying awake in the middle of the night, imaging all the painful ways he might die. Wait, is that just me? After you have stopped crying and put down the Häagen Dazs, it might be time to reclaim your life (and power).
Most of us can relate to the crushing end of a relationship we swore would last forever. The loss of something big, the mourning of something bigger, what might have been, instead of what was. That's been the trickiest bit for me, in a way. What I “thought” it was going to be versus what it actually was. I think they call that “dating for potential”.
There is no formula for getting over a breakup fast.
Each one is different and comes with its own set of challenges. Sure, there is the theory that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I’m not going to lie, that has been super effective on multiple occasions.
But I think my mother had the best advice (duh). The best revenge is a life well lived.
As I reexamined my relationships as I wrote my book In Search of Mr Darcy: Lessons Learnt In The Pursuit of Happily Ever After, what became abundantly clear was every ending was a new beginning. Of course, we don't always see that right away, particularly if we are still Bridget Jones-ing it, main-lining vodka, and pathetically singing into the end of a hairbrush. But at some point, you have to ask yourself, are you going to become one of misery's great graduates, or are you willing to give up feeling crappy?
Last week was my fabulous London book launch, and in my speech, I thanked all the men, the Mr Wrongs, that I swore, just like Meatloaf, I'd love ‘em til the end of time. Those whose hearts I broke, and those who broke mine. Why? Because without those guys, I would not have been there. I wouldn’t have needed to reinvent myself. In fact, in some cases, I would’ve likely maintained the status quo, believing it was good enough (spoiler alert: it wasn’t). In short, I'd not be standing with champagne in hand in the extraordinary city of London, celebrating that unbelievable milestone of publishing my first book.
Once I stopped crying and stretching the patience of each and every one of my girlfriends as we plotted (insert name here) death over chilled Chablis, I shifted my focus and remembered my mom's advice, live a fabulous life. Do not give them permission to ruin your life by mourning their asses. Don’t you dare give them that power. Instead, harness that energy to say fuck you (insert name here). I am going to be happy despite you. You are not the lens through which I see or judge myself.
A friend described relationships like picking up a hitchhiker. You are never sure who gets in your car or how long they are travelling with you.
But regardless of the passenger or the duration, the one thing you should never, ever do is hand over the wheel and let them drive. Your car, your road trip, you decide where it will take you.
Standing in front of a packed room celebrating my book, I noticed something incredible. This world, these people, almost all of them, did not exist a handful of years ago. London did not exist, nor did I exist in London. It came from every broken relationship, every hitchhiker who had shared some part of my ride through life. I stopped asking myself the question, "what could I have done differently" and took that energy and channelled it into the best possible version of myself. Taking with me the lessons they taught me, and moved forward. Because, as I said, every ending is a new beginning, and you are the one who is behind the wheel. So go somewhere remarkable, do something extraordinary…take that breakup, stand on top of it and scream LOOK AT ME NOW!!!! It is there inside of all of us, you just have to decide to take it.
So, thank you, Mr Wrong. I couldn't have got here without you.
Book now available (goes great with wine)
