How to avoid food guilt this Christmas
How to avoid food guilt this Christmas

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‘For the first time, we weren’t alone… Somebody would listen to us’
‘For the first time, we weren’t alone… Somebody would listen to us’

Lia Hynes

This Christmas, hold space for those carrying the quiet burden of grief
This Christmas, hold space for those carrying the quiet burden of grief

Dominique McMullan

Inside the glittering Dublin home of jewellery designer, Chupi Sweetman-Durney
Inside the glittering Dublin home of jewellery designer, Chupi Sweetman-Durney

Megan Burns

‘For every festive freak, there are those who don’t consider this the most wonderful time of the year’
‘For every festive freak, there are those who don’t consider this the most wonderful time...

Suzie Coen

Five delicious vegetarian recipes to enjoy over the Christmas season
Five delicious vegetarian recipes to enjoy over the Christmas season

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This year, let’s shatter the illusion of a “perfect” Christmas
This year, let’s shatter the illusion of a “perfect” Christmas

Amanda Cassidy

‘I was a child who received a Christmas shoebox. This is what it meant to me’
‘I was a child who received a Christmas shoebox. This is what it meant to...

Amanda Cassidy

An ode to Christmas Eve mass, the festive season’s greatest social occasion
An ode to Christmas Eve mass, the festive season’s greatest social occasion

Edaein OConnell

How to host Christmas without breaking the bank
How to host Christmas without breaking the bank

Megan Burns

Image / Editorial

I’m three days into a break-up, and this is my experience so far. Sniff.


By Geraldine Carton
21st Mar 2018
I’m three days into a break-up, and this is my experience so far. Sniff.

The night my boyfriend and I broke up, I came home to what can only be described as a semi-wake. A wake for the relationship that had just been laid to rest.

In a devastated haze I was plonked on a chair as stories were exchanged about “the deceased” and we reminisced over the good times had, or why the future still looked bright despite the death in question (note: I’m personifying the relationship here, the ex is not the one dead in this scenario). And as with every wake I’ve ever experienced, there were many tears, and much wine.

I’m not going to lie, the greatest gift anyone could’ve given me that night would have been a hard hat that had a bottle of wine secured onto either side, with straws directing the liquid directly into my mouth. With no hard hats lying about the house, my friends very kindly did the next best thing; they set aside their work deadlines and early morning gym classes, and helped me drown my sorrows for the night.

Although the boozy chats were exactly what I needed, the reality was that I woke up on the next morning a human prune. Between the crying and the vino, I was incredibly dehydrated and I did not feel like the strong, independent woman that I had ranted about being only the night before.

And so I did what any other self-respecting singleton does in this scenario: I went to the local health food shop and spent a shameful amount of money on overpriced healthy nonsense. Including – but not exclusive to – €6 Bone broth, €27 turmeric powder, €7 liver detox tea. An “organic sponge” even made its way into the mix, somehow (in my defence, there really is nothing sexier than a well-sponged gal with a healthy gut and squeaky-clean liver).

The horror of my purchases didn’t materialise until a few hours later though, which meant that I was able to enjoy a very self-satisfied pavement-pounding session on my walk back home. You can bet that Kelly Clarkson got serious airtime for the proceeding 30 minutes. Really and truly, no one does heartbreak better than Kelly.

To put a pep back in my step I planned an online shopping spree including a few show-stopper pieces. “I AM SINGLE AND READY TO MINGLE AND I DESERVE A WARDROBE THAT REFLECTS THIS NEW EXCITING STAGE IN MY LIFE” I imagined screaming into the imaginary wilderness. But the extent of my shopping haul at the health food shop was such that I had to accept that the wardrobe revamp would have to wait for another few weeks yet.

That was just the first few hours of singledom though, I’m doing much better now – I swear. Sure, I burst into tears at random intervals throughout the day, but I like to imagine that my colleagues are embracing the drama and excitement that comes with my sporadic misery.

What will the next few weeks of singledom hold? Who knows. But the circle of life continues; with death comes rebirth, in relationships as well as everything else. So whilst I may have just experienced a “relationship wake”, I’m hopeful that I’ll be writing about the birth of a little relationship-baby somewhere down the line! Only time will tell, I guess.

 

Main image by Jerry Kiesewetter on Unsplash