Breaking back together.
I have a lot going on. And when that happens, it’s hard to pinpoint a topic to blog about. I’m either too scattered, or trying to respect everyone’s privacy, including my own. Privacy is a funny thing to a blogger, especially one who has written a memoir where she lets it all hang out anyway. Perhaps with memoir, we have the illusion of control (emphasis on ‘illusion’). We can reframe and shape our past as we see fit, and because it happened already, it feels less immediate than a blog post.
My memoir, about a Good Jewish Girl who marries a Christian, illustrates how I met my Christian husband and the obstacles along the way – including an eight month break up.
After dating for four months and falling in love, we mutually agreed to break up. Our split was amicable, and I moved on fairly easily, mistaking that ease for “we must not be meant-to-be.” Obviously, I couldn’t have been more wrong, but perhaps I needed to believe that then, in order to come back to him later. At the time, I was unaware that this ease I was experiencing was actually relief in disguise. Relief that I had averted the scarier route of committing to him for love, and for the long haul, without the insurance of a checklist.
I found a blog post that I had written on the heels of our breakup, in April 2010, which illustrates my frame of mind (and kind of blows my mind too).
Looking back, things happened exactly as they should have. Our sweet, clean break up had a distinct purpose; the universe (okay, God) had been telling us that while we needed to meet and connect, that it wasn’t the right time to go the distance. We weren’t ready for one another; we weren’t ready for the gravity of the real thing. Not yet.
Looking back, our break up healed us. Without our breaking apart, we never would have come back together.
ANOTHER CUB BITES THE DUST – April 2010
I skipped a posting last week because I was sick, although in hindsight, that was probably a cover for the real reason. I think there was too much uncertainty roiling around in my subconscious, and I couldn’t work out what to tackle first. I also must have intuited that it was too early (and personal) to write about what was to come a few days later: a break up with my tall, young, sweet and Aidan-like goyfriend.
Most of my friends don’t know yet but the few that I’ve told reacted with the classic, “Whaattt?? What happened?!” They were surprised. Things seemed to be going so well.
We all know that just because things look great on the outside, doesn’t always mean that they actually are. Although to my boyfriend and I, on the inside, it was looking promising. We were going through the good relationship motions: checking in with one another, sleeping over, sharing stories, dining and wining together. When I was sick he bought me yellow tulips. The image of him standing by my bed, this huge guy clutching this tiny unbloomed bouquet makes my heart hurt. I had given him a key to my apartment just a week before.
He even met the Fockersteins, for god (his and mine) sake! And afterwards, my mother went out of her way to Google ‘Amazon’ and send me a book, signifying that my man and I had a future, entitled “Marrying a Jew, from a Christian perspective.” I freaked. My goyfriend was on his way over and I found myself hiding the book and its receipt like it was porn. I emailed Mom to tell her that if I needed more information on interfaith relationships, I knew how to Google too, and could do so when I was ready.
My point is, I wonder if the visible increase in such niceties indicates that there is something wrong under the surface? How many times have you heard women express great shock over a break up, specifically because the guy “texted me just the night before to say he wanted to spend his life with me!” or “but we just planned a vacation to Hawaii!” Are we actually more emphatic, more lovey-dovey to our significant other, just before we break up with them? Is it denial, or are we overcompensating, in the hopes of eradicating our doubts?
Looking back, I think some of this was going on with us. We were ignoring the elephant in the room for a while (no not the Christian one…a cute image though.) A year ago, with my last boyfriend, I could go a long time blissfully ignoring things – ignoring my gut. But not anymore. At least there is a silver lining to this breakup. Amidst the heartache, at least I know that my gut and I have become best friends – the kind of friend I listen to, who doesn’t project her own agenda, baggage, or neurosis on me like some friends tend to do.
My dad said it best: “I see you don’t sit on the pot too long anymore.”
When I told Mom we broke up, she surprised me. Rather than reacting with her predictable “Heeeeee!! Mah karah?” (“What happened?” in Hebrew…Mom switches to Hebrew for important subjects), she listened.
And then in a soft patient voice she said, “Cougel, you will be okay. You’re strong and practical. You’ve been through a lot worse.”
How true, I realized. After the end of a fourteen-year marriage, the failure of a four-month relationship, no matter how in love I felt, doesn’t scare me. I wonder if the loss of love hurts less with age and experience, or more, because the older we get, the greater our despair. Or perhaps the rate of our recovery correlates with the quality of the relationship itself, and how certain we are deep down that it just “wasn’t right.” Four days after my breakup, and judging by how I’m doing, I’m pretty certain that for me it was the latter.
It doesn’t mean I didn’t cry the day we broke up. After Mom and I hung up, I called her back to tell her one more thing: “By the way. I’m going to keep the book you sent me….for the next guy.”
Mom burst out laughing (I love that she can laugh at herself) and then I joined in. It felt good. Mom also knows there is some truth to my comment. The likelihood that my next boyfriend won’t be Jewish is no surprise, nor does it seem to freak my parents out anymore (Call it acceptance. Or learned helplessness. Either way, I’m glad).
The upside to all of this is that now I can start blogging more freely again, without worrying about respecting a boyfriend’s privacy (my own privacy, as evidenced by this blog, is fair game). Although I doubt I will start online dating anytime soon, no matter how good the fodder is for my blog.
But when I do, you’ll know.
“They say that breaking up is hard to do / Now I know that it’s true….” Remember that (cringe-worthy) song? 🙂
It IS hard, which makes it especially nice when both parties act/respond with compassion and grace.
Oh yes I do remember that song. I thought it blocked it out 🙂 Thanks so much or commenting. And congrats to you on your new news!
I am so looking forward to your memoir. As a (less than) good Jewish girl married to a (mostly lapsed) Catholic, I am really glad that someone with your skill and sensibility is writing about this.
HA a “less than” Jewish girl… that’s what I am now, and then some. Love to hear more about your story sometime and be in touch. Thanks so much.
How great that you have your old blog posts to look back and reflect on and that in your memoir you’ve processed the experience and can see it from a different perspective with the benefit of hindsight.
Exactly. Thank you, Jennie!
Ah love. After falling in love with a 29 year old at the age of 44 I believe we don’t choose who we fall in love with. I also believe that breaks along the way to true love are some of the scariest but best things. After three months of dating, we thought we were done with each other. Three weeks later I got a mysterious delivery of flowers on Valentine’s Day. The next day we reunited and haven’t parted since. Thanks for allowing me to remember my own love story with your beautiful post Oritte.
We don’t choose who we fall in love with. If only we were taught that in eighth grade. Sigh. Thank you for the read and for the support, Suzan! Xo
Yep, another Jewish girl who married a Catholic, too. Our religions had nothing to do with our early-years break-up – I remember those sad days well, but, that breakup was definitely the thing that brought us back together for real. We haven’t broken up since. It’s also not a story I’ll be able to write about in my memoir!
Interesting, Nancy. Would love to hear more about your interfaith journey some time (if there is one ;). Thank you for reading!
I love knowing that you got back together in the end. Thanks for sharing your heartwarming story.
Thank you, Estelle!
*Sigh.* I love that you found each other again. How long was the break-up before you got back together? And your mom sounds like a total hoot (I’m sure that’s an understatement, hey?!). I can’t wait until your memoir comes out!!
We broke up for about 8 months. At the time it seemed like forever.. because that’s how long we thought it was going to be for 🙂 Thank you for reading and for your thoughts!
Nice perspective on perspective. I dated my husband for more than 4 years, then we broke up for a while. Got back together and got married. I think the break up made us realize we couldn’t take the relationship for granted and that we could weather storms. (Celebrating 26th anniversary next month.)
Congrats on your anniversary! What a milestone. Thank you for reading and commenting and all the best.
Yes, I so agree that the timing has to work out. My partner and I also took a break while we were dating. It seems more common than we often realize. Best wishes as you send your story out into the world!
Thank you, Lynn! Best wishes to you as well!
It’s such a gift to look back in time and find a clear picture of what was. Those tulips! They paint such a great picture, and it’s a detail you may not have remembered writing from hindsight.
So true, Maggie. I never thought about it that way, but the blog is a nice way to mark my progress! Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
I’m a beatnik wildwoman type of Jewish middle aged lady. At 47, I met the love of my life, an avant-garde jazz musician who had told the Catholic church where they could stuff their catechism some time in his teens, and who was a Roosevelt-era child that had turned 30 before second wave feminism hit the international radar. Of course we had issues. So, we broke up, forever, four times. It was a good thing. Each time he came back a little less defiant, somewhat more willing to do his share of the chores. Love is much more flexible and tenacious than we are led to believe.
What a great story, Alicia. And thank you for reading and commenting!
What a great story, Oritte!
I’m so happy you found your way to get back together! I have a question… when you say a clean break, you mean that you didn’t contact or talked to him during those eight months? I broke up with my boyfriend close to three months ago and we do catch up sometimes.
We spoke occasionally during those 8 months – shared some jokes and videos on chat, and he called me on my birthday. We also spent Hurricane Irene weekend together as a planned “slip up.” (that’s a blog post from 2012! 🙂 By “clean breakup” I mostly mean it was sweet, tender, and mutual, with no acrimony. Thank you for reading and for commenting!