I Can’t Tune Out My Ex Post-Breakup. What Do I Do?

Send your queries in, and Pretty Good Advice will give it to you straight.

Dear Pretty Good Advice: 

I am a post grad, freshly breaking up with someone for, like, the fifth time and I can’t stop checking his Spotify. I’m working as a barista at a cafe I’m not liking…I fear I’ve lost my lust for life…. 

How do I come back to myself? Or is this just who I am now?

Yours truly,

20-something Sweetie

Dear 20-something Sweetie,

It sounds like you’re in a highly relatable post-grad haze. Nothing quite feels as it should and everything looks a little bit out of focus. Your 20s are for messy break ups, not-quite-right jobs, and aimlessness. Please know that you’re in very good company and that you’re where you’re supposed to be. Free yourself from the need to “arrive.” 

You are going through the motions and emotions of a break-up, which, naturally, include checking his Spotify playlists or any other version of our undeniably masochistic, yet deeply nostalgic impulses (re-reading old texts, scrolling the photo archives, drafting another text in the notes app, etc. etc.) that feel like pressing a tender bruise. But we press because we have to see: does it still hurt as bad? Or are we healing? This break-up sounds painful, and I’d allow it to be. Endings are hard and demand a lot of us. Someone told me that the grief in something ending doesn’t have to be paralyzing, it can actually be transformative: a grief that creates openings within and outside of ourselves. 

So let’s begin from within, as I hear that questions of identity are on the mind, as they so often are post-break up. I recommend starting small to relieve some of the pressure you’re putting on yourself to have it all figured out. I’m not sure we ever figure it all out, and life is figuring out how to somehow be okay with that? I write to you from the next decade (read: 30s), a vantage point that provides me both proximity and a helpful distance. The more time I spend on this big planet, the more I feel life is lived in the small moments. I recommend starting to notice the moments you feel most connected to yourself. Perhaps it’s when you’re singing in the shower like no one is listening (or like you have a captive audience). Or when taking a walk in your neighborhood. Or while eating a really perfect sandwich, with the exact right bread to filling ratio. These moments may be fleeting, but they’re meaningful nonetheless. They allow us, as you say, to come back to ourselves, to get to know ourselves a little better.

You say you feel like you’ve lost your lust for life, which means at some point, it was very much found. What was that place like for you? What made you feel zestful? It’s helpful to remember that you have accessed these places and parts of yourself before. That means you are capable of connecting and reconnecting with them this time around. As you work to reanimate these parts, I wonder what permissions you need to give yourself. Permission to not know? Permission to feel sad? Permission to not take things too seriously? Permission to take things seriously? Something to consider. 

During this time, focus less on what he is listening to and more on what you are wanting to *tune* into it. Who/what are you wanting to turn up the volume on? Who/what are you wanting to ask to keep it down? To that end, and pardon the literalness/cheesiness of this suggestion, but I like the idea of you creating a playlist for this era. Have fun with the title. This can be a playlist that you can groove to when you are and aren’t feeling groovy. (Besides, you have better taste in music than he does. ;))

You ask, “Is this just who I am now?” That question tells me that you’re not being very kind to you. Be gentle with yourself, 20 something sweetie. As my grandpa Ruben used to say, there are plenty of people (your boss, your landlord, your shitty ex) who will be hard on you, so no need to pile on. Rest assured, that role has been filled. So instead of asking, “Is this just who I am now,” maybe try on, “How do I show up for this iteration of me, while trusting in my capacity to continually grow and evolve?” 

So, the TLDR: start small, eat (make?) the ideal sandwich, remember the many parts of you, dance to your playlist, let yourself feel, and trust in transformation. Or something like that.

Sincerely, 

Pretty Good Advice