We broke up. I had wanted to do it for a while, but I couldn’t release myself from the spell. Every morning I thought about what it would be like to be apart. Every evening I dreamed about the freedom I’d feel to be on my own again. Yet I would always be drawn back in. Some word, some phrase, would convince me that I couldn’t let go that easily. It was important to stay connected. I needed to be available to respond quickly to the questions and updates and hear the answers I still needed. But I never felt energized afterward. I was giving more than I was getting in return. Something had to change.
I finally broke it off cold turkey. It was wonderful—I felt relaxed again. I could do other things, since I wasn’t tied down anymore. I could think about what I wanted to do, instead of what I had to do. The shackles were off, and I had an unquenchable thirst to explore the world.
I didn’t check email for a whole week.
Instead of thumbing my BlackBerry on the chairlift, I looked up at the sky, the trees, the birds, the mountains. Instead of sneaking in a few emails while waiting for my husband to join me for lunch, I struck up a conversation with two people from Australia, who bought me a drink so we could toast our new president. Instead of feeling like a Tasmanian devil, always spinning and reacting to the things around me, I felt like Dora the Explorer, open to new adventures. Instead of checking my email inbox first thing in the morning, I meditated on the orange-and-gold meditation pillows that I had demoted to mere decorations due to lack of use.
What was the thing that I just couldn’t let go? Am I codependent? Am I avoiding something else? Am I addicted to old habits? Or just afraid of new ones?
Yes to all of the above. It’s easier to do what I’ve always done—it’s rewarding, validating, and safe. It’s also tedious, unfulfilling, and exhausting.
