When you wish things were different: the truth about breakup regret

As the days after my breakup turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years, slowly, the veil of pain began to lift, exposing and unraveling an intricate web of self-spun stories that had me looking at my breakup in an entirely new light.

But hindsight is a double-edged sword. Because when you can see so clearly where and why it all went wrong, you can't help but wish that you could go back and do things differently. And when you're gifted with a fresh perspective on love and life and yourself, you can't help but wish that you could propel forwards and fix things.

So when my ex's profile came up on a dating app like an itch begging to be scratched, I caved. With one exquisite scrape of a nail, I broke the skin, and my 10-month stretch of no contact.

I'd be lying if I said that there wasn’t some sort of sick and twisted pleasure to be found in watching the blood of a thousand long-buried memories pour from my freshly re-opened wound. But if there’s one thing that seeing my ex again showed me, it’s that things aren’t - and never will be - different.


Finding fulfilment after your breakup: tips for creating a life that you love

Last year, my whole life fell apart. I lost my boyfriend, my home and my job all in one go - and I lost myself in the process.

I recently wrote an article for Tiny Buddha in which I talk about how I went from feeling so utterly lost, stuck and hopeless to the happiest and most fulfilled I've ever been.

I wanted to share it for those of you who are also struggling to find a sense of purpose or direction after a breakup.

You can read the article by clicking here.

Love to you all x

Dating anxiety: how to stop obsessing and start trusting yourself

After my breakup, I dedicated a year of my life to self-improvement. I swore off dating, threw myself into my hobbies, reassessed my goals, and rid my life of all unnecessary drama and distractions. I thought that I finally had it all together. Until I met someone new.

Suddenly, the walls of the inner sanctuary that I'd so carefully constructed came crashing down, taking with them any previous sense of calm, clarity, or comfort. I sat helpless as an army of aggressive butterflies set up camp in my stomach, leaving me breathless, reeling and restless, love-drunk on a poisonous cocktail of lust and longing and loneliness-fuelled fantasies that had me questioning my own sanity.

I was a train-wreck waiting to happen, barrelling full-steam ahead towards destination heartbreak, and I needed to be stopped in my tracks.