Posts Tagged ‘Break ups’

Once upon a dysfunctional relationship ago, women would determine unfaithfulness based on the obvious tale tell signs. The lipstick on the shirt, a sudden interest in aftershave and those curious receipts Whitney Huston sung about all those years ago.

Now we have entered the information age however, women no longer need to wait for signs; they can simply dig them up themselves; a love excavation if you will, because no one does research quite like a suspicious woman with unlimited broadband. Which means alongside online dating and we have created the evolution of digital tears and online break ups.

photo 2A few years back, women’s biggest techno-dating-phobe was sending a drunken text to someone after two dates and scaring them off completely. Now we long for such simple days, where a basic “I didn’t text you, the wine did” can fix it all.

With constant access to our dates, boyfriends, husbands and lovers every move can be analysed under a magnifying glass and we all know that too much of that, can start fires.

Years ago it was said that when you date a woman you date her family too, these days an even more uncomfortable type of threesome has arisen and when it comes to dating it’s ‘him’ ‘her’ and ‘the internet’. An explosion of social technologies (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat and whatever else out there I have yet to discover) has caused an explosion in sanity too. Just because you can keep tabs on someone throughout the day, doesn’t mean you should.

It starts off innocently, he messages a girl on Twitter and you check to see if she’s attractive. He has his “read receipts” on and you notice he saw your message but took an hour to reply. A picture was uploaded on to Facebook and his female co-worker ‘liked’ it. Completely innocent occurrences to everyone but the girlfriend who has convinced herself that Donell Jones isn’t the only one who knows what’s up.

photo 1Trusting someone in a relationship can be hard enough without purposely looking for evidence of unfaithfulness. Whatever your current use for Google is, checking up on your other half probably shouldn’t be it. Go buy a dress, reply to those work emails you’ve been ignoring for two weeks or look up old friends to see if they’ve gotten fat… anything that doesn’t involve obsessing over the online footprint of your partner.

You should also note that it’s not just his online activity you have to worry about. While you’re walking around with your phone in your hand like it’s puppy you can’t leave unattended, he might be wondering what’s so interesting that you can’t put it down. You might be on Facebook looking at the same photo of your friend’s new hair cut from 17 different angles, but he’s probably trying to work out who you might be texting and if they’re the reason you password protect your phone.

If you ask me, it’s time for a break up; or a break at the very least. Break up with your smart phone before it’s a real break up on the cards. I’m not suggesting you dig out your old Nokia 3210; perhaps just learn to leave it in your pocket or bag every once in a while. Maybe one day you can even pop to the shops without it and let the rest of us know if the world doesn’t end.

After all, we already live in an age where people get broken up with on Facebook, let’s not let it become the age where people break up because of it too.


Read Full Post »

Do Not Resuscitate.

You never know when something is the right decision, until you do it, and then you learn that it’s not.

Sometimes I wish I could hire someone to make all my decision for me, and then when it all goes wrong, at least I’ll have someone other than myself to blame. Other times I think a partial lobotomy would be perfect; if it was possible to erase all memory of my romantic past, then I wouldn’t have to tolerate the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘should I haves’.

The problem with refusing to let yourself be a victim to all those foolish hormones, which apparently imitate love, is that sometimes it happens without you noticing. Every now and then a guy will come along who will, for no apparent reason, get under your skin. And as my good friend sod would have it, you probably won’t realise till its over.

Ladies I warn you, a point will come, sometimes six days down the line, sometimes six months – when you wonder if you made a mistake. You wonder if you gave up too easily. You’ll start to ramble about the good old days when people used to fight for love. And you consider resuscitation.

This is the point when you need to find your most honest friend. The one who would happily tell you that your new £60 dress makes you look like a butch lesbian, not because she’s mean but because she cares. I’m lucky enough to have two such specimens. One is a tiny little thing, which compensates in volume what she lacks in height, and the other is so pale sometimes we’d invite her to sleepovers to save money on nightlights. Both are enviably beautiful, and equally harsh.

In 90% of cases, once a relationship is over, you need to slap a huge DNR on it, and move on. The problem is, a few months down the line, four or five bad dates later, you forget why it ended, and all you seem to recall is laughing together because you wrote all over him in a sharpie pen while he was asleep or him leaving cute notes all around your room to make you smile.

This, my friends, is when you need an intervention.

Most of the time, it’s not so much the specific person that you miss, more the feeling of being with someone. Also, I’ll admit not having to worry that you’ll die alone in a house full of shoes and empty vodka bottles, is also nice.

Take it from someone who refuses to buy a novel without reading the last page first: not knowing can be scary. But you know what’s even scarier? Running back into the arms of someone who probably doesn’t like you all that much. I’m wrong am I? Then why did he let you go in the first place?

I’ll admit, heartbreak can make us all a little delusional. So I suggest, we write it off as indigestion, take a nap, and forgo the drama. Sitting in bed for four hours, mascara about 6 inches lower than where it was originally applied and surrounded by soggy tissues is unlikely to get you very far.

You can type out ten different potential texts, save them all in your drafts and ponder which one he might reply to, or you could gain a little self-respect and stop being so pathetic. I feel having been in this very situation: plus one pink fluffy bathrobe, minus one dose of reality, I can be forgiven for the harshness. Criticism never seems rude when the target audience also encompasses you.

Perhaps what we need is a little pop-quiz to send out to all possible candidates who wish to be instated as lovers. Not so we can whittle down our options to the ones who brush and floss thrice a day, but so we can be clear as to how high our hopes are allowed to go.

1. Do you plan to marry me: yes, no, maybe. 2. Are you just here because you heard I’m amazing in bed: yes, no, maybe. 3. Are you likely to ever try it on with my any of friends: yes, no, maybe.

A little blunt I’ll admit, but I feel in the long run, this plan’s a definite winner.

Read Full Post »