How can I free myself from post-breakup judgment?
Alice Jackson reflects on ‘glowing up‘ and burning Schrödinger’s bridge.
Today’s newsletter is from Alice Jackson, a writer, speaker, campaigner and all-round radical feminist. In March 2021, Alice co-founded Strut Safe and now works independently pushing for equity and liberation. She has spoken at the United Nations. In her spare time, Alice enjoys Danish pastries and graveyards (as she always remains an emo at heart).
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“I was thinking that I might send a note to his mum and dad,” I mentioned to some friends over dinner.
“Don’t do that,” my friend said sharply.
“What are you wanting to say?” another asked, gently, but with equal reservation.
I flushed with embarrassment and said that I just wanted to say thank you, thank them for all their generosity, for welcoming me into their family, for all the kindness they had shown me, that I would always be grateful and look back on those memories fondly.
“Alice, that’s a really sweet thought and I know it comes from a good place, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” she reassured me. “They will understand.”
I knew what they meant, what they were saying and I knew they were just trying to protect me but I pushed, wanting them to spell it out clearly.
They both shifted uncomfortably and glanced at each other.
“...Just think about how it will look.”
Before my last relationship ended, I had always worried about what would happen if I became single. What would I go through and what would my life look like? When it did indeed end, it was predictably tough. I’d never been through a break-up before, so navigating heartbreak was completely uncharted territory. A huge part of that, of course, was the emotions and feelings that come with a relationship ending. What I could never have predicted, though, was the pressure, expectations, and judgments that you have to wrestle with.
In difficult moments, I have clung to Jemima Kirke’s infamous advice that “you all might be thinking about yourselves too much,” reminding myself that I am very much not the center of the universe. However, in the time following the break-up, I’ve had several conversations with friends who were commenting on my behavior online. “Yes, I guessed it was over between you two, just from social media,” they’d say, and, “I thought so, what with all those thirsty pics lately.”
Suddenly, I was immensely self-conscious.
(In the interests of journalistic integrity and honesty, I must confess that ONE thing was posted in a bid for attention, which is truthfully quite funny to look back at now, if a little cringey.)
However, aside from that, I hadn’t posted anything about my relationship ending. No stories were tagged with heartbreak anthems, and as far as posting thirst traps, I had never shied away from posting my body while in my relationship, but had never even considered how this might look now that I was single. Had my completely unrelated social media activity been coming across a certain way? When I posted “Good Luck Babe” by Chappell Roan, did people think that it was directed? What about the pictures I posted? The only target audience for those were the people who bullied me in high school, and that was a wound I was not planning on healing any time soon. I was not laboring under the illusion that posting pictures of myself looking gorgeous was, in any way, going to resuscitate my relationship. I reminded myself that, “He knows you’re pretty, he just doesn’t want you.” Any time I was in his neighborhood, I stared at the pavement, terrified not of bumping him, but of looking like I was trying to bump into him.
I knew I shouldn’t care, but so many of my interactions were confirming this anxiety. I felt self-conscious and so completely naive. I also knew that I had been guilty of perpetuating some of these same ideas in the past, the guilt of that was probably punishment enough, or maybe it was simply my karma. But I swore never to judge someone who had their heart broken ever again.
Meanwhile, in the real world, I felt practically media-trained. Over cocktails and coffees and dinners, I would parrot the same lines as much as I could: that they were a wonderful person, that I would look back fondly but of course I was hurting, and yes, I was looking after myself. It was like I was on a break-up press tour. I was okay, but not too okay. I was making exactly the correct amount of progress. I was desperate for my friends to not worry about me too much, but also worried about looking like I was doing too well and bringing the whole thing 360.
As I tried to double-triple-bluff my way through every conversation, I started to realize I was doing more harm than good. It was only when I tried to pawn a tale about a “crush I could now pursue” off on a close friend that I saw it. She looked at me long and hard and then quietly said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” It was not a judgmental question, she just saw right through it — through me. My lip wobbled and she pulled me into her side as the tears started to slip down my cheeks. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel that I could open up to my friends — of course I could and I did — but sometimes I was just so desperate to talk about anything else.
The scrutiny you suddenly find yourself under when you have had your heart broken is immensely suffocating. If you lose weight or have a “glow-up,” then you must be struggling in secret or trying to prove something. But if you do the opposite — lay in bed all day rotting and don’t shower — then you’re not coping at all. Talk positively about your ex? You’re denying the reality. Talk negatively? Unfair and disrespectful. “You’re being too nice!”; “Don’t move on too quickly”; “You can’t swear off love forever”; “She really can’t be alone.” My feeds became swamped with break-up content, glow-up content, “get-them-back” content. Telling me what I should do to be unrecognizable, to hurt them, to win them back. It was toxic and nauseating and exhausting. And it was damaging my mental health beyond belief.
The only advice I can share is not to fear judgment of the important things. Regret is worse than embarrassment. It’s hard to explain this without sharing too much, but I will always know that I left nothing unsaid and nothing unpromised. I was as vulnerable as I could be. I am proud of myself for that, in spite of the scrutiny I was subjected to. It seems that the world around us is going to judge us whatever we do, especially as women, so you might as well put yourself first. Go with your gut or your heart or both, and also know that it will all be okay — and yes, I know it doesn’t feel like it.
I know I may face judgment from people in my life, or in my ex’s life, when they read this. I can accept that. I also know I might be burning Schrodinger’s bridge (burning a bridge back to a reconciliation when I don’t even know if that bridge exists or ever will). When telling someone in my life that I was writing this, they simply asked, “Are you not worried a future partner might read this?” Honestly, I think for any future partners, this will be the least of their worries.
Author’s Note: To the wonderful women in my life. Thank you for all of it.
ICYMI
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