A lifestyle blog all about Birmingham, UK.

Sunday, 21 August 2016

Why getting my heart broken was the best thing to happen to me

I guess this is another post that I have been wanting to write for some time, but seeing as I am currently on a roll of getting things out in the open, lets do this! I wanted to share with you why getting my heart broken was probably one of the best things to ever happen to me, because who knows where I'd be now without that moment.

My ex-boyfriend was lovely, and I'd never say a bad word about him because he genuinely isn't a nasty guy and I know that he probably never meant to hurt me. Just like he probably never knew just how badly I would cope with it all. I met him whilst at university and after talking all day every day for like two months, we were reunited after a summer break and we made things official soon after. I can honestly, hand on heart, say that I fell in love with him. Although I had boyfriends before, this was different and I just adored everything about him. Things were great for ages but it started to go downhill when we were coming to the end of our second year at uni. However, because I was so in love with him, I failed to see what was going wrong where and how it could end, so quickly, so soon.

I am aware that I probably sound slightly ridiculous here, we weren't together for years, we weren't married and we didn't have kids and therefore, the pain wasn't half as bad. However, at only 19, this hurt me like nothing else ever had. I coped with my mum being a lesbian, which you can read about here, I coped with living with various characters at uni, I coped with friendship issues and family problems and bad grades throughout the years, but nothing that had managed to have such a profound affect on me more than this.

It was on a Friday evening when my ex started acting weird with me and I asked what was up. He looked at me for what felt like a lifetime and said that he didn't love me anymore. I never realised how much I craved love and attention until that point and the fact that I, and myself alone, had managed to make someone love me, but then fall out of love with me, it blew my mind. Obviously, I questioned him on everything; what had I done? where did it go wrong? how long had he felt like this? Just the night before we had snuggled and fallen asleep in his bed. How can someone switch their feelings off so bloody fast and why was this happening to me? Even after him answering them all, I was so confused. There were still so many unanswered questions. I traced my steps back to everything that had happened for weeks beforehand and thought, should I not have said that? Did he think that joke was serious? I got the first train home, cried on a elderly woman's shoulder before getting into bed and sobbing into my beans on toast, which I later threw up. I couldn't function and I couldn't handle living in a world where me and him weren't together. How was I going to get through this?

I was fortunate enough to have my friends and family be there for me in such a rubbish time and I'll be honest, I would have ended up doing something stupid if it hadn't have been for them. Back in Liverpool in my cold uni room which was still full of his things, I lay looking at the ceiling for about three weeks. If I wasn't in bed looking at the ceiling in disbelief, I was drinking countless bottles of wine and sobbing whilst walking home from nights out. I had nothing in me, I couldn't go to uni, I didn't want to spend time with anyone unless it meant getting drunk, I would ignore phone calls. All I wanted in life was him and I spent a good four or five months after telling him how crazy I still was about him. Lesson number one, you can't make someone fall in love with you.

Eventually, after not speaking to him over summer, I began to start acting fairly normal again. I pushed myself into a summer job, I started thinking about my third year of uni and what I wanted to achieve from it and I hung out with friends, sober. I stopped ordering takeaways and eating my feelings and most importantly, I stopped feeling sorry for myself. It was a difficult period for my family at the time, so I had to be there for various family members and soon I realised that I needed to just get on with life and that spending every day moping around, waiting for a phone call from him saying he made a mistake, was not doing me any good.

I went back to uni feeling much more positive about the future. Although I was hurt and would still cry at least three times a week, I was slowly getting myself into a better place. Soon, me and him met up for a catch up and it was surprisingly fine, and I went home thinking wow, maybe we could be friends here. Lesson number two people, trying to remain good friends with an ex isn't always the best thing to do, especially when one has feelings still, and the other doesn't. A couple of months later, we met up again. However, this time he was really flirty with me and I loved it. One night he walked me home and we kissed and it happened again a month or so later. I thought maybe we could be friends who...kiss? No, no, NO. I soon found myself spending Sunday afternoons in bed staring at the ceiling again. Because I was still in love with him and still craved his attention. We would text often and I would lie to myself and say it was all a bit of fun, but it wasn't. The feelings were still there and I needed him in my life.

I dated countless other guys, but they were never enough. They weren't him. I would find myself being sat on dates and thinking, how did I end up here? Am I doing this because I want to or because I'm just trying to put my attention into something else that isn't him? Although I was smashing uni, my social life was on a roll and I was feeling confident in my own body again, I hated myself because I wasn't allowing myself to move on from this person. Over a year later, and he was still such a prominent figure in my life who I needed. I graduated uni, got myself a job and a flat and started acting like an adult. But deep in my tummy were still these feelings and every time he would pop up on my phone, I would still get some kind of bizarre buzz out of it.
In January of this year, I bumped into him on a night out. The shock of seeing him in the flesh after 8-9 months knocked me sideways so much that I had to run to the toilet to be sick. I didn't know how my adult self should act around him after so long, despite the fact that we still spoke most days. However, something happened that night and I remember thinking at the time, that I would look back and be thankful for this moment. I lost my friend who I had been on the night out with and on a freezing cold night, I didn't know what to do. I rang him to ask for his help in finding her, but after three phone calls and a couple of texts, he ignored me. He ignored me in my time of need and suddenly, I had a moment where I thought, what am I doing?

The next day, whilst eating a sausage sandwich and watching Big Brother, I had the sudden urge to cut him off. Like I should have done years ago really. I text him an essay saying how I still really cared about him and I wanted us to be friends, but I was hurting myself and not allowing myself to move on. I can honestly say that plucking up the courage to do this was one of my strongest moments in life so far. I grabbed my headphones, walked down to the docks by myself and cried. I cried because it was well and truly over, the whole thing, and there was no going back. In the moment of tears streaming down my face, Whitney Housten 'I'm Every Woman' came blasting through my headphones and I laughed and cried tears of joy. It may have looked like I was having a breakdown, but who knew Whitney would help me in such a time of need. I think I even skipped for a few minutes and danced on a bench or two. I didn't care. I had given up on him and it felt so bloody good.

I had the feeling over the next week or so that he was going to get a girlfriend. I don't know why, but I saw him tagged in a photo and just knew it. It was just a waiting of game of when it would appear on my Facebook feed. A few weeks after, it appeared. I was sat on the bathroom floor after a shower and stared at the phone for five minutes. Tears started rolling out of my eyes, but it wasn't because I was sad. But because I was relieved. Finally, he was gone. I had no reason to have anything to do with him anymore, he had found someone. Over the two years since he told me that he didn't love me, I had imagined how I would cope with the news of him moving on. However, I never thought I would be glad to see him move on, but I was. That is when I knew I was over him, after years of putting myself through hell of why I wasn't good enough for him and wondering if we would ever get back together, it was over in a heartbeat. I deleted him off everything. Not in spite, but just because it didn't feel right to have him on my social media anymore.

I have written this post because I have since realised how having my heart broken was the best thing to happen to me, because it changed who I was for the better. I had always been the type of girl who needed love and attention and needed to feel wanted. I am no longer that person. If someone wants to love me, that is fine, but I don't crave it anymore. After years of looking at myself in the mirror and asking why I wasn't good enough for him, I looked at myself after and thought, just because you're not good enough for him doesn't mean you're not good enough. I have grown into a stronger person throughout the last two years; I have learned to look after myself, be my own friend and have respect for myself. I spend time by myself, which I never ever did before, and I enjoy it. I have thrown myself into work and falling back in love with Birmingham since moving home. All of this couldn't have happened if I wouldn't have gone: "You know what, what am I doing spending so much time and effort on someone that doesn't care, when I need to work on myself?" By working on myself and reassessing the way I am with others, what I shouldn't take for granted and what I want in a guy, I have discovered so much about myself and now, I am excited for the future.

All it took was for me to realise that by still caring about my ex, I was hurting myself. By putting effort into him, I wasn't allowing myself to move on and have another guy notice how great I am. By spending less time worrying about what he is up to, I have had time to think about work, success and my future and what I want from it. By no longer having him on social media, I don't get reminded of his existence anymore and to be perfectly honest, I feel like a different girl to who I was eight months ago. I am proud in what I have managed to achieve to this point in life and all this wasn't down to anyone else, it was because I did it, despite everything going on around me. Getting my heart broken helped me become who I am now, and I am glad it happened.

It was the best thing that has ever happened to me.  



  1. This was a really lovely post, I'm glad you managed to make a horrible situation into something better xxxxx

    1. Thank you Emma, that is so nice of you to say! Xxxxxx

  2. This is so heart warming. I was choked one minute then smiling the next . This is wonderful beth

  3. This is so heart warming. I was choked one minute then smiling the next . This is wonderful beth

  4. This is so heart warming. I was choked one minute then smiling the next . This is wonderful beth

  5. Wow this post is so beautifully written. I can literally feel every emotion you felt. You have a fine way with words lovely! Onto the actual topic, heartbreak is something that unfortunately we all have to go through and no matter what people say, everyone heals at a different rate. You can only move on when it feels right for you. I spent four years in love with someone who never fully loved me back nor could he commit. And yet as painful as it was, I kept running back to him because I thought and believed that I needed him in my life. Then something in me changed last month. I began to see the situation for what it was. I began to feel resentment, anger and hatred towards him. I realized that I deserved someone who would truly love and appreciate me. And as long as I was choosing him, that could and would never happen. So I broke free. And it felt good. I feel for the first time as if I am in control of my own life. Granted it's only been 1 week but I've blocked his number and all his social media avenues. I am finally moving on and am excited for the future. If you ever need a friend to chat to, look me up hun! Glad to hear you have a new man! It gives me hope for the same xxx

    1. Wow thank you so much for your lovely comment, it means a lot! I'm so glad you have found strength to cut a guy off too - it can be tempting to keep your eye on them but it just isn't worth it. I'm sure you will find someone new soon too, and you'll be wondering why you spent so long on the other guy! Lots of love 💖💖


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