The Genius of Pain: Letting Go of Rotten Relationships

Letting go of someone who has violated your boundaries is a gift you must learn to give yourself over and over again.

A little over a month ago, I went through a painful break-up. It was complicated, and difficult, but if you had asked me how I was doing last week, I would have emphatically told you that I’m feeling really good—something kind of asshole-ish that’s usually reserved for retreats with yoga pants, along the lines of, “I can’t believe how grounded I feel, even though it was only a month ago.” Honestly, I could hardly believe how light I felt after going through something so deep, and I was riding the high; a big portion of that satisfaction is because it’s such a far cry from who I used to be.

But on the same day I would have told you just how ~rooted in the earth~ I am, I was in my bedroom, minding my damn business, when something hit me hard. It was a smell, so specific, perhaps left on a pillow, or the t-shirts he used to leave around, but unmistakable. And lingering in MY space! My apartment! The audacity.

It was just a brief moment, and the scent passed as quickly as it came, but it absolutely paralyzed me. The pain was suddenly fresh, immediate and burning, and I felt like I had been catapulted back to square one, day one. I wanted to call him, and the thought was persistent.

But I didn’t. I didn’t, and I haven’t, and I can say with some level of certainty that I won’t. And it’s because of what I’ve learned about boundaries, and since put into practice, that separates me from the former version of myself. When I think about that girl, I want to both hug and violently shake her (and also tell her to put on more sunscreen). She had much to learn, and it’s been a sloppy journey.

That version of myself fucked up like she was getting paid to do it.

It’s because at the time, I had zero boundaries. My relationships were co-dependent disasters which often ended in chaos. On top of that, I was the absolute worst at letting go of people who were no longer positively serving my life. And boy, did the damage show.

To better understand just how significant the changes I’ve made are, I have to introduce you to me at my worst. It was personally my worst, but it was also the beginning of my most impactful journey in building and respecting boundaries, and subsequently letting go of the people who no longer aligned with me because of it.

I was just a few weeks shy of my 25th birthday when my boyfriend of two years, who I was living with at the time, broke up with me out of the blue (so it seemed…you know how it goes with hindsight). I heard the words he was saying. I moved out a few days later. And so, we were broken up, right? Well…

I am grateful that I can laugh about it now, when I look back at the things that I did, but the truth is there is not enough emphasis available in the English language that could properly convey just how tightly I held on to that relationship.

I was the barnacle to his boat, and I employed every tactic I could think of to keep myself hanging on.

So, how did that work out? Well, quite simply, it took me years to move on, for two big reasons: 1) I was not understanding or accepting of my ex-boyfriend’s boundaries, and I still had absolutely none of my own, and 2) I was unwilling to accept just how much pain I was in, or the discomfort of all the uncertainty that surrounded me.

And as Dr. Alexandra Solomon wrote, “when you use a strategy to gain and keep someone’s attention, you set yourself up for exhaustion and relational vigilance. You also, sadly, send yourself the message that your authentic presence is not enough.”

And while much of my learning on this came by way of romantic relationships, all of this applies in similar format to friendships. It was just a few years after that big break-up when I was faced with choosing to let go of a lifelong friend. At that point, I was still getting acquainted with my own boundaries, and it ended up being a turning point in realizing when and how to enforce them. All of those experiences were (very uncomfortable and challenging) steps that brought me to where I am today.

SO…what sets present-day Brittany apart from the cringey version of relationships past? What am I doing differently now? And why is it better than the old way?

To start, when it comes to letting go of someone, romantic partner or otherwise, there are two non-negotiables that tell me it’s time to walk away:

1.     When someone violates my boundaries

2.     When someone asks me for space/to break up/to not talk, also known as, enforcing their own boundary

You might not realize it, but we as humans are setting boundaries all the time (or not). From smaller things, like turning down a friend who requires more attention than you’re capable of giving, or heavier things, like asking your partner not to drink when they’re going to be driving you home that night. The boundaries are yours to identify and set.

The Gottman Institute is a wealth of knowledge for all sorts of relationship strategies, and they make it plain: “Setting boundaries is an important aspect of establishing who you are as a person and how others are allowed to treat you. As a crucial part of mental health, it also includes learning to be kind towards yourself. As a result, you can be less reactive, since you set the rules you live by and let others know of them as well.”

So, when a person crosses one of my boundaries, or I find someone in my life is setting one with telling me I’ve crossed theirs m, that is often the signal that it’s time to let go. But how the HECK do you let go of someone when they’re popping up in your news feed, or just a quick text away? Well, I live by a handful of rules that are proving, in real-time, to be the most effective way to get through it.

1.     No contact. Not to reminisce, or check in, or ask if they need the old t-shirt you just found in the back of your drawer. Just don’t. Tracy McMillan says 90 days, others say six months, I say it’s a personal choice. Maybe you’re better off never communicating with them again! But at least to start, no contact is absolutely necessary*. And honestly, what is that conversation going to do for you? What are you going to learn that you don’t already know? There’s no check-in that will change the situation or make it more comfortable—in fact, consider that you might feel worse after a brief, emotionless exchange. And, in the case that someone has broken up with you, or more specifically, asked you not to contact them, you would be violating their boundary by reaching out. P.S. unfollow them on social media. Staying on top of their whereabouts and activities is like removing a broken wrist from its cast and slamming it against a table every day. You’re not going to heal.

*I realize this is not possible for couples with children. That’s an experience I can’t speak from.

2.     Stop looking for signs. I am woo enough to believe in strange little signs from the universe, but I also firmly believe that exactly ZERO signs appear as reason to contact someone who violated my boundaries. When you’ve been friends for a long time, or engaged in a romantic relationship, you’re guaranteed to see things that trigger some tender memories. Give it a little squeeze in your mind, and let it pass. And don’t do another. damn. thing. about. it.

3.     Quit denying the pain. A recent study shows that when you are in an endless pursuit of happiness, you’re actually more likely to be unhappy. Fuckin’ a, right? And on top of that, it’s been written about time and time again that ignoring/suppressing feelings is unhealthy in myriad ways. So what’s the takeaway here? Wrap your arms around the fact that it’s going to get ugly at times. You’re going to ache, and sometimes, even if the person hurt you, you’re going to miss them like hell. Hang on anyway (refer to #1), and remember that you’re doing this for you—your health and happiness above all.

4.     Celebrate your growth. As I mentioned at the beginning, last week, I was feeling good as hell. Just because I hit a bump shortly thereafter doesn’t mean I haven’t been making progress, or that I’m not healing. I was feeling good for a reason—because I’m respecting my boundaries and theirs, and growing because of it. It happens little by little, and you may only notice it in the smaller, peaceful moments. The realization of growth doesn’t always hit like grief does, so be patient.

5.     Don’t look back. There’s this bitchy little thing known as euphoric recall. It’s essentially looking back on a relationship (or situation) with rose-colored glasses, only seeing the good, and conveniently forgetting the bad. But the quick workaround here is this: you didn’t break away from that person because of the good times, you broke away because of the bad. Remember those times? The bad ones? Yeah, not so euphoric anymore.

Following these steps doesn’t mean it won’t be a painful challenge to let go of someone you love, especially if they were part of your daily life. There’s actually no way around just feeling your way through it, and I can say that confidently because I see that it’s changing me, changing the way I treat boundaries and myself, and I noticeably feel stronger, and yes, at times…quite grounded.

The hard truth is that, you should never compromise on your instinctual boundaries, and when that pushes you to let go of someone, it is making room for something else. Something better.

You may come to find that, sometimes, letting go of someone is the only way to hold onto yourself.

Have you ever had to let go? Was it a sloppy mess? Are you letting go right now? Maybe there’s someone in your life who might need some encouragement. I’d love you forever and a day if you sent this over to them. And if you want to talk through something, reply to me. You’ve stepped into my little weird newsletter community, and I’d love to hear from you.

As always, thanks for coming along. I’m glad you’re here.