The phrase âKnow better, do betterâ has given me minimal comfort through the years. It seems to be the positive opposite of âToo little, too lateâ. Both are true and significant in their own way, depending on the situation.
While living in Seattle I was part of a group of friends who lived in a community house everyone called The Spaceship. Four stories high, eleven bedrooms, eleven residents in their twenties and early thirties. Big yard with a garden that we all pitched in to create, where many summer parties were had; chickens roaming, communal kitchen, large living room where we celebrated Friendsgiving of over fifty of us. One cat. Amid the usual dynamics, good and bad, that take place when one lives with that many people, there was something unusual that always stood out to me: several of the residents had, at one point, been in serious relationships with one another. As the house went through changes and new residents, and folks dated other people, new lovers and partners would inevitably move in and share the space with their ex-partners. And those exesâ new partners. One lived across the hall from his ex boyfriend, who was dating the woman who lived on the third floor who was once married to the guy down the hall from her. One was best friends with her ex, who was dating that best friendâs ex. Et cetera.
And, somehow, this worked out peacefully for all.Â
When I inquired about it one day to my friend who had lived there the longestâ close to ten years at that pointâ she told me it wasnât an agreement anyone made consciously. It was the people themselves. She told me there were natural tensions or jealousies that might arise, but that it was an understood thing between these close-knit friends that âIf they were worth loving and having in your life in a significant way once upon a time, you donât need to throw them away as if they meant nothing to you. You can grow apart without discarding each other as people.âÂ
That has stuck with me for years. It was such a beautiful and seemingly impossible revelation to me. That you can both be mature enough not to torch the earth with vengeance and retribution andâ the worstâ a deafening silence of absence by removing that individual from your life. It made so much sense to me. Someone you share your body and your friendship and your common interests with for a significant amount of time isnât a throwaway person just because you might have hurt each other deeply, or because you grew apart, or because you just couldnât talk about the hard stuff.Â
It takes maturity to see through the bullshit society feeds us. Our culture supports the dramatic nuclear explosion of breaking up; your friends will call your ex terrible names and encourage you to cut all ties, chastise you for reaching out to them as you yourself agonize over their absence and over what went wrong. You will attempt to drink the pain away, or to rebound in an effort to distract yourself. You will blame each other, cut all ties with mutual friends, possibly go to therapy for five years (hello, me) in an effort to understand why you still hurt and why youâre still angry and why youâre still blaming yourself and why youâre still grieving your best friend after five years (me, again.)
Could there really be a better way?
Today my friend Emma, a vibrant brilliant adventurous young woman, shared an experience that she just had with her boyfriend. They had made an agreement when they got together that if they ever found themselves growing apart they would celebrate that, and honor their journey together, while letting each other go in a way that created kindness and joy for what they had shared together. They celebrated their breakup with a ceremony that honored the part of themselves they respected and appreciated while acknowledging that they were moving in different directions and that this mutual agreement to part ways was a positive, life-affirming event not to be mourned.
How incredible is that? How wise. How I wish I had honored my breakups with past loves in such a celebratory way.Â
The hardest thing about my most significant adult breakup, which occurred nine years ago, was the lack of closure; after five years together, he scorched that earth. He had his reasons, and at the time my struggle to hold on to him pushed him away even more. He was done. To us, at the time, growing apart seemed to be the only way to grow individually, as people. We did not have the maturity to honor the many years we had shared, the dreams, the hard work we had both put into one another, the vulnerabilities of giving who we each were with the other person. Those were things to celebrate, to let go of those hopes of a future together in a way that was kind and that honored the other person, all that I had given him and all that he had given me, and we couldnât go there. It was too painful. The silence, the loss of my best friend, was the hardest thing I have ever experienced and it has taken me almost a decade to recover from it.
Then there are the other, less significant relationships where after several weeks or months of sharing yourself with that other person, you just let it fade out. Or you have an awkward discussion about how it isnât working between you anymore, no hard feelings. And you both walk away. Delete from social media, avoid them at all costs to decrease any residual feelings. Like it never happened.
There is another way. A healthy way; a spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally healthy way. We must first know itâs an option. We have to shut out what our friends and our mother and memes and self-help books instruct us to do and just listen to our hearts. Recognize the humanity of yourself, of the person you once loved, and the fleetingness of our existence. Honor the person they are, even when you donât want to be with that person any more. Even as you decide to take different paths. Even though it hurts. Because pretending that that part of yourself that loved them, and their love for you, never existed, hurts more.
Breaking up can be beautiful and empowering. Life is too brief for unnecessary pain, and the earth is too lovely and too special to scorch.
