My First Breakup Was With My Dad

Bonjour Mes Shoapholics,

I love you.

So what better way to start the week than to discuss love? It's messy, it's incredible, it's sad, it's lonely, it's everything you think it should be and also, everything you never thought it would be. When we chose not to love somebody anymore, it doesn't make the pain go away. A breakup causes pain for both people. Because even if we end up hating a person we once loved, I believe that a piece of their heart is left with ours. And even if we stop loving them, from time to time a small part of us will hurt when they hurt, smile when they smile and cry when they cry.

I've always been in love with love. I pretended I was like the other kids but I wasn't. I would squirm in the kissing scenes and shiver when my Mum kissed a boy but in reality, I never wanted to look away. I've always admired passion. I was four when I had my first crush. I was five when I had my second, and eight when I had my third. I remember every crush I've ever had because it was the most exhilarating, overwhelming-ly, heart-wrenching-ly painful experience I have felt. I think I admired passion in the way that I did because of how foreign it was. My parents never married and split around my birth. I wasn't exposed to touching, kissing, hugging, note-writing, anniversary gifting, date night-ing, etc. But I was exposed to yelling, name-calling, screaming, behind-the-back-bitching, and phone call-arguing. Considering I am also an only child, I couldn't compare how I received love. I formed my definition of love purely based on the love that was shown to me. And it was abundant and plentiful... for many years. Until gradually love began to feel inconsistent, temporary and earned. Love is not a contract bound by blood. Love is a contract bound by love. And if there is no love, there cannot be a contract. I was set free when I realised that.

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DISCLAIMER CONFESSION

My biological Dad (let's call him Sugar) isn't making headlines on my watch. I wouldn't give Sugar the satisfaction to know that I care enough to drag his name through the mud when he's not here to defend his honour. Dolls, breaking up with a parent was never going to be easy and if I can get through breaking up with Sugar, you can get through breaking up with anyone. So get out your notepad, take notes and grab the tissues. This isn't a sob story but I told you Dolls, love gets messy.

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The Moments Before

Sexy Shopaholics, you know that the only thing which is even close to being sexier than you is the material world. Nothing helps the pills go down like a 'sex on the beach' on your vacay to Hawaii... But I'm sorry to say Dolls, there are things money can't buy. At 5, I loved Sugar like I loved candy. When it was Sugar's turn to have me, there weren't rules like there were at Mum's. We lived off Friday night fish and chips, movie marathons and warm fires on freezing cold nights. It's impossible to erase time, but if I could, I wouldn't. See, Sugar had a heart the size of New York and when he started earning money, I was the first person he wanted to spoil. He would take me on trips to the Bahamas, with stopovers at Disneyland and school holidays in Bali. Before Sugar and his ex-wife (let's call her Caramel) got back together, we lived in a cabin secluded in the mountains. But Sugar and Caramel started hanging out more. Caramel gave Sugar work and he started buying me nicer clothes, bought himself cars and our quiet Saturday evenings turned into nights at the Opera. It sounds glamorous...idyllic. I suppose many moments were. But that's the funny thing about money, Dolls. Your memories become clouded by the delightful things it buys. So when you take a moment to reflect, it's hard to recall the moments that money wasn't buying.

Shopaholics, I have a confession to make. I would trade money for love in a heartbeat. In fact, I traded money for love long ago but it took me much longer than a heartbeat. I make this confession so that you don't make my mistake. Sugar gave me a car, we travelled the world together, went on shopping sprees, he provided me with phenomenal opportunities and world-class experiences. But Sugar and I spent many years growing apart. Soon, the young and pure love we had for one another when I was a child had become resentful and tainted. As his love for Caramel developed, it was unbearably noticeable that the ease of their relationship was a haven in comparison to the bitterness between us. It seemed that in the blink of an eye, weekly visits from Sugar were now monthly. There was a profound physical and emotional absence that I craved, the fighting was increasingly expected, often, cruel and the remorse was nonexistent. It wasn't until I was too exhausted to retaliate that I learnt the most silent sound in the world... the sound of your side of the conversation left unsaid.

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The Breakup

My sweet & pretty Dolls,

before you break up with someone, it is essential to know all the reasons you want to leave and all the reasons you don't. Ever heard of Stockholm syndrome? Well, they don't create syndromes for things unless it's common. I believe it's natural to miss people, even when they weren't good for us. Maybe it's a little dramatic of me to relate to Stockholm syndrome but I love a bit of drama, don't you Dolls? A pretty girl's best defence is preparation. If you can prepare for every feeling which may arise after the breakup then you'll have a better chance of the breakup lasting. So allow me to let you in on a little secret Shopaholics... a pro and con list will be your holy grail. The second the remorse hits you and the urge to drunk call kicks in all you have to do is scan over the many cons and the urge will subside.

Shopaholics, the sweetest form of relationship revenge is confessing every unmet need which wasn't adhered to. Declare to your ex-lover the days you spent alone, the apologies left unfulfilled, the times you cried yourself to sleep at night, the moments you hoped they'd be there, the hopefulness they eradicated, the hole they couldn't replete and all the waking hours you had spent believing their lies. The purpose isn't to blame, truly. The purpose is to provide you, pretty Doll, with the catharsis you immensely deserve. For you to completely and entirely leave, it's critical that you confess every minor detail. You cannot continue to carry the burden of a love which doesn't complete you. I had to absolve myself of every crime I was blamed for because I knew that if I didn't, I would carry the guilt that wasn't mine to bear for the rest of my life. I spent over two weeks carefully crafting a lengthy email to Sugar. It wasn't easy in any way. It was painful to recount every insecurity Sugar instilled in me, it was painful to tell Sugar all the ways he wasn't enough and it was painful because I was murdering the last strings which were playing the tunes of our love. As I was writing to Sugar, I knew that it was the last words I would ever dedicate to him and I knew those final words were the closing credits of our short-lived love.

Even the most famous and exquisitely produced films come to an end. And once your email is sent, your words are spoken or your letter is posted the breakup is declared. But unfortunately, Shopaholics, your best efforts aren't always enough. You made this decision for a reason. A part of you, big or small, knew in your perfect soul that you were destined for a bigger love... a warmer love. So your decision cannot just be an enter key or a stamp. Your decision is now sacred and sacred items are bubble wrapped, guarded and protected. There is no room for a change of heart, a drunken text or a late-night drive. You have to block. You have to ensure your decision is complete and irrevocable. Don't stop at an 'unfriend' on Facebook. Go to Gmail and Instagram and sign 'Return To Sender'. Remember Dolls, a Woman's intuition is a superpower and taking it lightly is the darkest form of magic.

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The Aftermath

Dear Frankie Vallie and The Four Seasons,

I hate to break it to you but big girls DO cry.

Warm regards,

A devoted Shopaholic.

Even if you hate your astray lover with every bone in your body, a breakup kills a part of you. For however long, you shared part of your life with another person. That is an immensely pure act. Death has consequences and the consequence of killing love is sorrow. Your days will begin to feel empty in the smallest, most fragile and unexpected ways. Allow yourself to experience such sorrow. Allow yourself a Hugh Grant chick flick with tissues, chocolate and a fresh bouquet of flowers. Allow yourself the pleasure of your friend's company and the familiarity of a hug from your Mother. Crying is cathartic, also. It's a cleansing process and allows your body to deplete itself of the ashes of your forgotten love. Be accepting, be understanding and most of all be allowing.

Fake It Till You Make It, Bitches...

And by Bitches, I mean you pretty Doll. You've had your time to cry but now your mascara is running and that's not the look of a pretty Doll like you. Your tears may be begging to fall and your heart may be tearing in two but if you wipe away your mascara smudge, put on a Tiara and fix yourself a dainty beauty spot like Charlotte La Bouff, you will start to believe the smile you're faking. Go to Tiffany's and buy yourself a luxurious necklace, then wear something sexy, party and drink heinous amounts of Moët & Shandon. The next day, you wear pink (and only pink), you make yourself so pretty you want to ask yourself to dinner, you proceed to dine with your girlfriends and laugh until your jaw hurts. The rest of the week, get busy, get active, get moving. You're a confident woman who is gleaming like the stars, you're walking with your back straight and you're not a fidgeter, you're a moneymaker. The more you fake, the more opportunity there is to make. If you fake 90% of the happiness, excitement and newfound liberation you're embodying, then there is a 90% opportunity for you to actually become happy, excited and liberated. Miracles happen every day Dolls and if someone as utterly repulsive as Warner Huntington III can break up with someone as iconic as Elle Woods, then you, a sexy Shopaholic Elle Woods II can break up with anyone! No sweet Shopaholic of mine is destined for anything other than greatness and I will confess to you every last secret I have before I let your downfall be over a stupid boy. And Public Service Announcement Dolls, all boys are stupid if they have two legs and can say 'babe'.

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The Hardest Parts & The Easiest Parts

When someone asks you if you want the bad news or the good news first, what do you say? Personally, I like to meet the villain first, so Prince Charming looks even more handsome than I could've dreamed. I'm going to give you the fairytale ending you deserve, Dolls but you have to be patient and endure my hardships.

I loved you like the moon loves the stars, I gave you blankets in the coldest Winters, I wrote to you on your darkest days, I loved you through your stone-cold words and I thought of you when everybody else forgot your name. It wasn't until much later that I understood that love can only go as far as it is taught. And in learning this, I could begin to forgive. I could forgive Sugar for not loving me in the way I wanted to be loved because he wasn't shown love in the way he needed. Although forgiveness has given me strength, forgiving someone takes time. During that time, I felt insecure, I questioned my values which I believed were concrete and I told myself the sweet lies Sugar had told me all my life.

You can't keep dancing with the Devil & wonder why you are still in Hell

Although I believe this quote to be true, sometimes the Devil would dance with me in my dreams. Except the Devil was Sugar and they were nightmares. I still have them most nights. He would probably relish over the fact but as I say Dolls, my confessions are yours. I confess to you the unbearable night sweats, the terror I feel each night moments before I close my eyes and the exhaustion I feel as I wake. I confess to you the confusing moments like turning down a forgotten street where Sugar used to be. I see him so clearly that his face is almost tangible, his aged cheeks are so nearly strokable, but his figure is simply a figment of my imagination. It's seemingly insignificant instances like these where I miss Sugar's presence more than life itself, I miss the sound of his once soothing voice and I miss the comfort of being held in his arms. But even when the Devil dances with me when I sleep and even when the daylight comes and I see him in a street, I know that I'm in Heaven because I'm not dancing with the Devil, I'm dancing with a distant memory from long, long ago.

Shopaholics, it's time to put on your silkiest, most creamy gown, wear your blushest lipstick and elongate your left hand because Prince Charming is on his knee reciting a speech he wrote just for you. You've endured enough pain, Princess and as promised it's time I confess to you the fairytale. The most noticeable joy is the tranquillity of their absence... the silence of their anger, the silence of their rolling eyes and the silence of the voice which hurt you time and time again. You won't remember what day it was because it happens ever so gradually but there will come a day when the day turns into night and you've spent all 6,000 thoughts consumed with anything but them. You're free of the burden of a single memory, you're free of nostalgia and you're free of the picture you have of them which fades day by day. But the most irresistibly satisfying feeling is when you start to re-write the narrative they told you. Every moral they testified against, every well-intentioned word they twisted and every friend they convinced you to hate is not set in stone. Just as you thought the book had ended, you discover a hidden chapter. And in that chapter is the rest of your life. In that chapter are the morals you re-claim, the words you say to people who entirely understand you and all the friends you still have to make. So I leave you with my final words, my beloved Shopaholics. No matter if your book was burned and buried, nobody's story ends with a single cube of Sugar. I promise that you have a chapter left and even if you aren't ready to look for it, you will be brave enough one day. Just promise me you won't leave it too long because you don't want to lose too much of yourself to a person who doesn't want to help you find all that you can be. Since we fiddled with love today, let me close on the starting note.

Au Revoir Mes Shoapholics,

I love you.