CHAPTER ONE

My story isn’t what I’d like to call unique in any way…

It was my first year of university when I fell in love with a guy I thought I’d be marrying one day. No matter what we went through, he was my lobster.

Fast forward 5 years – we are moving into our first place! I’m over the moon excited at the thought of going to sleep next to my best friend, and waking up to his face everyday. We found an adorable One Bedroom Condo with a bright orange couch that you could probably spot from Mars – it’s a dream come true.

Now, picture this, because it sounds like this story can only have a happy ending right?

We’re 10 months in to living together, and I am standing there ugly crying over a duffel bag full of clothes questioning why I wasn’t good enough to love.

It took only one day to have my life completely turned over. Years’ worth of dreams and plans tossed down the drain. 

Like I said… It’s not unique, and unfortunately a pretty common ending to stories like mine. First loves don’t always last and I’m learning that it’s OK.

Having everything you planned, and imagined for yourself ripped away really makes you look at things differently. You become lost. You start grasping at straws just trying to make sense of what your next step needs to be.

I never went through the stages of grief. I was never in denial, or angry with what happened. I never really accepted it either. I was just there- living, breathing, and so utterly confused.

I spent days walking in a complete daze. Replaying almost 6 years’ worth of conversations to see where I went wrong. Mentally abusing myself with every action I should have done differently, blaming myself for not being good enough. It was not a healthy coping mechanism, telling myself it was my fault I wasn’t loved… But it did help me realize that I needed to make some changes in my life.

It took a while to snap out of it, falling in and out of sad spells. But I’ve gotten there and though relapses are a downside of first loves – I’m finally seeing that there is light at the end of this tunnel. If there is one thing I learnt these past 5 months it’s that nobody should ever be given so much power as to make you feel so little.

My friends and family were a huge part of what got me through my move back home. But to be honest, I like to think that a lot of it was thanks to myself. If being dumped gave me one really good thing, it was learning to love myself more than someone else for the first time in my life.

So here I am. Learning to give myself the love and attention I need, finding what makes me happy, and taking action for the better.

These past few months I’ve forced myself to completely change my outlook on life. Going from a shy closed off girl who never really went out, to forcing myself to have fun, try things I’ve never done before, and to take up hobbies I only ever just talked about.

So maybe my story does have a happy ending after all.

Today I turned Twenty-Five (HELLO Quarter Life Crises! Be kind to me)

Today, I am taking my first big steps at getting my fresh start in a very hectic life.

Not every new beginning needs to be scary. I may be starting from scratch, but that just means I get to do it right way better this time.

Welcome to the story of my new life. 

 

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