“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to…

You would cry too if it happened to you.”

– Lesley Gore “It’s my Party” 1965

Pity Party

Okay so there must be something in the air at the moment! Here, in Melbourne we had a week of glorious sunshine and suddenly the storm clouds have gathered in the most literal sense, the temperature dropped suddenly today and the heavens opened up. Up went my trusty red umbrella when only yesterday I had enjoyed a leisurely lunch, feeling the sun on my face and my shoulders and feeling like I might just be ok.

It’s true to say I had a bit of a hard week. The adage that it doesn’t rain when it can pour was a little bit apt.

I think the break up with the Producer, though it was now several weeks ago finally hit me. It’s fair to say that I had accepted this fact as soon as it happened. It hurt deeply but I accepted it nontheless. I certainly haven’t hung onto false hope but then we had a rather odd encounter. We had agreed to remain friends and in my own way I wanted to make an effort to ensure that happened. That is my way.

After several failed attempts to catch up I asked him to lunch – on a work day. I thought it might be better – if it was awkward we could cut it short using work as the excuse. He was very busy and declined, so I replied with a text message (damn the dreaded text), saying perhaps it was best to leave the ball in his court. To be honest, I just started to feel foolish and I didn’t want to face any more rejection. If he didn’t want to keep the friendship, I didn’t want to make an idiot of myself by not getting the hint!

The response from the Producer sort of knocked me on my proverbial arse. He sent a text that said “We are not a couple so I don’t deserve the attitude, thanks.” Complete with a smiley face emoji.


Given I walked away from this man I loved because he didn’t want to be in a relationship (or even agree to monogamy), this seemed a rather hurtful and unnecessary thing to point out. I hadn’t meant to send any “attitude” but he had interpreted it that way. Of course that is the downside to modern technology. Text messages convey no feeling, no body language and no intent. Just words, often with typos…written on tiny little keyboards.

I cried. Yes… really. It just hurt me that he would point out what was already so painfully obvious.

Ouch. It was just a great big ouch.

So I had a pity party for a few days. I just felt fragile, and honestly the smallest thing could see me shedding tears! Broken pen? Crying…you get the drift!

My bright and optimistic self suddenly was nowhere to be found. For days I wallowed, which is unusual for me. Probably the worst of it is that I started to doubt myself, feeling all “whoa is me.”

Ah – doubt is like a poisonous weed isn’t it? I started to do the dangerous dance of dissecting myself, something I haven’t done in the longest time. Insecurities start to set in. I started to imagine ridiculous things – pity party! Was I unattractive, or unlovable or undesirable? Was he suddenly going to end up in a committed and monogamous relationship with someone else, leaving no doubt that I was clearly defective in some way?!

Good Grief.

In truth it was probably all too soon – too raw perhaps. For both of us. It is unusual for the Producer to be mean. It’s not his normal M.O. but I guess he was feeling it too. So I have left well enough alone and he has made a small effort via private Facebook messages.

As it turned out my lovely friend Naina had a broken heart of her own. She recently broke up with her man after three years of monogamy but no commitment. They still didn’t live together and while she had been fine with it, she had started looking at properties and was quite excited about buying her own place rather than renting. Clearly this thought played havoc with her Mr Non-Committal and in the end he said he just couldn’t do it.

When I was telling her about my Pity Party she could so relate. She literally went for a run…in the rain. So she is running and crying and being saturated by the rain, feeling very sorry for herself and deservedly so, I might add! It takes Naina a long time to get to know someone and therefore quite a bit of time to get to know them in the Biblical sense. It’s partly cultural, and partly just her nature. She was understandably upset when she said “Am I ever going to sleep with someone again!”

Well of course she will – she is young and gorgeous.

Breaking up just sucks…big time. Often it’s an invitation to a pity party for one – unless you can find colluders!

My kids were away visiting their grandmother and I was feeling alone, and sad and rejected and hurt. So here’s what I did. I got busy!

I accepted an invitation out on Friday night and ate amazing duck, and drank champagne, followed by a French film, Mood Indigo. The film was charming but sad…the red wine during the session helped somewhat. After the film we kicked on to an inner city bar which is renowned as a band hang out and there were some pretty cool customers and lots to check out! One day down and so much fun!

Saturday night Naina and I hit the town. We started with French martinis – a delicious blend of Chambord, vodka and pineapple juice. Insanely drinkable! We were in a brilliant basement bar and we met a couple of amazing women (okay I was eves dropping and they were talking about their girlfriends who are having man troubles!)…hello Charlotte Lea! The girls are now following the blog, so hello ladies!

After many cocktails Naina and I went to dinner and ate Asian Tapas (isn’t that really yum cha?), and ordered some brilliant cocktails – A lady in a red dress and a Wandering Samurai….(pictures were posted on the Good Girl Confessional Facebook page)! We ate and then headed to another bar, where we inadvertently crashed a party. Our night ended in a Latin Bar where we did the salsa with Colombians! It was such an unplanned and unexpected night! You just couldn’t plan a night like that!

Sunday I met up with my friend Rose for brunch and we relaxed in the sun, which was brilliant and on Sunday night I caught up with Bella! We went to a charity screening of a documentary (drinking something called a Laneway margarita) and gave moral support to Naina (whose ex had turned up…yeesh!). We then kicked on to a beachside pub, where an 80’s band was playing, drank martinis and danced. It was spontaneous and brilliant.

The week-end was not about men. I mean, yes there were men in places where we went, and yes, some eye candy amongst them…but there was no pick-ups…just hanging with my brilliant friends, letting our hair down, shaking off the heartbreak for a few days and having a lot of fun! By the time my head hit the pillow Sunday night, I was finally ready to get back to the real world. While I have a great social life, the week-end was a bit of a marathon effort even for me! I really needed it though.

The reality was still there on Monday. Yes, I still miss him, and my heart is still bruised, sure. I still got up and got on with things every day. I put on my heels and my lipstick and smiled at the world even when I felt sad. My house looks like a write-off (I am a bit of a neat freak but I really haven’t cleaned), but I have power walked and meditated and I still wrote.

I am trying to stay in the moment, and I am being the gatekeeper of my own thoughts, pushing the negative ones away.

The big one is coming…Christmas. I spent last Christmas day with my children and Christmas night with the Producer, which was beautiful – just the two of us. Left over Christmas lunch, lots of laughing and great sex! What could be better?

I fear Christmas as I don’t have a big family so it can be a little tough when the kids go to celebrate with their dad. For 18 years my Christmas’s were shared with a husband and my kids and my ex’s brilliant and huge family. I have missed that for three years and this will be the fourth. I am trying to be brave! I know it is months away and anything can happen in a day, let alone months, right? Besides, I have amazing friends so I know I will never be completely alone.

I guess it’s always a process and I really thought I was being very cool about it all. I have given myself permission to heal and get through it. I am brave enough to do that. We can’t be happy all the time and a huge night out (or week-end) may not cure a battered heart – but it does help to remind us we are alive and kicking!

What do you do when you get a little flat?