A sentence I never thought you’d hear me say. If you’d told me three months ago that I’d be thanking the very thing which put me at an all time low, I wouldn’t believe you. And yet… here I am. Lo and behold, everyone was right – time heals, and it’s annoyingly good at it. I think reading something like this back then would’ve helped. Sometimes you just need someone to whisper: “You won’t feel like this forever”. Because you really won’t.

One thing that can help massively is being conscious of the way you hold yourself throughout. It’s hard not to feel tiny and insignificant afterwards, especially if they don’t reach out and it all feels painfully one-sided, but that says a lot more about the size of your heart than it does about the size of your worth. While biting your tongue can be really difficult, staying gracious pays off. It can make all the difference. One day you realise you’re proud of how you handled it all, while your friends marvel at your kindness and your composure, quietly impressed that you didn’t torch the earth on your way out.

“Sadness has to book itself into my calendar like a supervision”

Behind closed doors, obviously things are different. On your own, in your room, at night, it might all fall apart. But that’s okay. Necessary, even. God knows I’m way too busy to feel it at any other time; Cambridge keeps me so chronically busy that sadness has to book itself into my calendar like a supervision.

If you so wish, you can make yourself busy every single moment of every single day here, and ensure there’s ALWAYS something to look forward to – and believe me I do. I’ve seen live jazz at Clare’s cellars, booked a travel society trip to Morocco, danced to a new artist at the Corn Exchange, located the best french toast in Cambridge, bought unnecessarily expensive tickets to see a horror film at the Everyman with my equally deranged horror-obsessed best friend (though, I’ve got to say, I prefer our countless cosy pyjama-movie nights in). We’ve cooked, we’ve baked banana bread (many times, it’s an addiction), we’ve bumper car’d, and filled up on churros and mulled wine at the Christmas markets. Pub socials for many new societies. A 2000s radio show. A dissertation I’m genuinely proud of. Did I fall asleep at 3pm on my desk today, face-down in some reading, due to the exhaustion – yes. Am I happy about that – yes. Because I have had SO much fun.

“It’s so important to know how interesting, and fun, and exciting, and successful you are – all on your own”

Don’t get me wrong, I loved purposefully ducking out of social events early just to make time for a goodnight call, because that’s what you do when someone is that important to you. But recently, I’ve absolutely loved staying out until the very end – and discovering I’m someone who likes doing that.

It helps having the loveliest friends in the world: somehow they became mine. I’ve received more flowers from them in the past few weeks here than I ever have in my entire life. They notice an empty vase and immediately re-fill it – literally, and yes, metaphorically. It’s a constant reminder that other people will put effort into you. So much effort. And it’s so important to know how interesting, and fun, and exciting, and successful you are – all on your own. This is extremely hard if you grew up alongside that person who’s decided to leave, and spent some of your most formative years with them, but I can promise you that even if a relationship felt like your biggest achievement, and the most interesting thing about you, it wasn’t. Look at where you are.

“Just know, in three months time, you’re going to look back and say “thank god for breakups” 

It was an incredible experience, sure, and you probably don’t regret those years together at all, but it’s over now. Let it be. I say all this, and I’m still sad about it. Obviously. Three months is not a magical cure. But some real, noticeable progress has been made. ‘Out of sight out of mind’ works – people love to pretend that removing someone on social media is petty or attention-seeking, but usually it’s anything but. I actually hoped they wouldn’t notice. If you know that seeing them at all will hurt your feelings, get rid of the possibility. It’s not dramatic if it makes you feel significantly better (and this does), so it’s got to be done. The same goes for reaching out and checking in, don’t be embarrassed you did it, but be proud of how unwarrantedly kind and considerate that was.

In conclusion, from me to you, I hope this helps. If you’re struggling with one right now, just know, in three months time, you’re going to look back and say “thank god for breakups.”