Evil, being in this case, the post break up bitterness. Now, if you are lucky to have never been with a crank, or never gone through a break up then I congratulate you from the bottom of my chebs. However, if you are like the 80% of women in their early twenties, you will know what I mean when I say one thing; break ups are shit.
I feel I should add a disclaimer that this is by no means targeted at any ex of mine, although if this starts to ring a bell you have no one to blame but yourself.
A break up, (this is from the point of view of the breakee - the one who was dumped quite unceremoniously over the phone, over text, or even, if they have the balls that is, face to face.) can completely and utterly blindside you. It can take you off guard and leave you with little options of what to do next, but that's normal. It is normal to grieve a relationship like you would a person, because that is primarily what has happened. You have lost someone that you could fart in front of, and who you didn't mind seeing you on a hungover Sunday with no make up on and last nights eyelashes stuck somewhere down near your chin. And that's hard. Really fucking hard. In fact, no one ever tells you how hard it is. Forget the heartbreak, you'll get over that in time, but what if you never meet someone who you can tell you're going for a poo without judgement, or who will sit and watch sex and the city with you when your period is particularly heavy and the thought of moving makes your uterus punch you in the gut? I say this without condescension and I am really trying not to be patronising here, but;
You will find someone.
And even if you don't, who cares? It's not a big deal. Some people don't meet their love of their life until they are fifty and have already been married x amount of times, some people meet them before they are sixteen. These are just statistics, they are not you.
When going through a break up it is so easy to romance the relationship, and forget about the fact he doesn't like Beyoncé, or that he never really made an effort with your family, or that he was once sick not in, but right fucking next to your toilet when he was drunk. But remember these bad points you must! At least at first, anyway. Otherwise you are pining for a relationship that was never really there. Stop saying pathetic shit like "the good outweighed the bad" or "he's really nice when you get to know him though" (everyone knows that is code for he's an unattractive dickhead, but you get used to it after a while) when your friends are telling you that you deserve better. Your friends are right, you do deserve better, but we'll get to that in a bit. Whatever you do don't disregard your besties, your friends are what will get you through this when you don't even want to get out of bed.
When I went through my first ever serious break up after a two year relationship, my best friend, much to her mums amusement, mothered me back to my normal self. With wine and spag Bol, and of course, the odd chick flick I was soon back to laughing and snogging prawns on nights out, and I owe her my sanity for the privilege. Although I must admit, I was fooling myself. I was still angry, upset, and most of all, more bitter than a man united supporter. But at eighteen, I thought if I just didn't mention my feelings out loud, then they can't be true, but true they were! And I would forever be in a state of smad (sad and angry) if I didn't address these in a healthy way. Which obviously, I didn't.
I threw tantrums, listened to Adele, played the break up card, text him, went to Magaluf and told my holiday romance all about him - fair play to you for putting up with me lad - I cried a lot, watched every sad romance film with ice cream, thinking to myself "NO ONE GETS IT!" But people do, and if they don't right now, they will do when they go through their own break up. And all of that helped, to an extent.
Okay. It didn't really help anything at all. Wallowing in self pity made me put on about 10 pounds and gave me the emotional baggage of Dot Cotton. The only thing I can congratulate myself on is not airing my dirty laundry on any social networking websites, although I will admit to making status' about how happy my life is, purely so that the ex in question would see it and realise how fun I am, and how much better off I am without him... This, I do not recommend.
But forget all that, and let's get back to the point. You are better off without them. Would you really rather spend your life with a person who didn't appreciate you at your peak? You are young, if they don't appreciate you when you can still pull of bodycon dresses and get away with dip dye without feeling like mutton dressed as lamb, then what makes you think they will appreciate you in 5, 10, 30 years time? The logical side of your brain is thinking "wow, you make a valid point!" The other half of your brain (the part that always tells you that another glass of wine won't hurt) is saying "OH BUT I LOVE THEM" and I have no quick fix for that.
Although, ask yourself, if you are really willing to sacrifice your integrity and change your princess personality for a knobhead that can't put the seat down, then are you really someone you would want to be in a relationship with?
The answer is no. And if you can't have a healthy relationship with yourself, then who are you kidding? Every relationship you have will be based on your own insecurities, and some asshole telling you that you are "beautiful" will not force you to believe it, until you actually see the beauty in yourself.
I say, fuck the dickhead that hurt your feelings, go wash your hair, buy a new dress that will cost far more than it is worth, join tinder for fucks sake, and go and have a wine night with your friends. Because, it is these relationships that will shape who you become to be. I'm not saying it's easy, from first hand experience it is pretty hard, and I'm not even attempting to say that it will happen in a week, or even in a month. But admiration to any lass who takes the healthy steps after a break up, without ringing exes while Gotye is on. Because, believe me, the voicemail will haunt you to this very day.
And if all else fails, ask yourself four words;
What Would Beyoncé Do?
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