Message in a bottle...

The days that are supposed to be the big ones are never as earth-shattering as you imagine they’ll be. It’s the plain, old, regular days, the ones that start out like any other, that end up being the days that change your life.

I woke up next to my boyfriend the day after my 22nd birthday, like I had every other morning for three years. There was nothing unusual about that morning, and definitely nothing to suggest it would ring in a day that would change the entire projection of my life. But - in life’s ever-unpredictable fashion - we bought tiles for our new home in the morning and by that afternoon he was gone; our relationship was over and I was alone in our apartment, paralysed with grief.

My friends were my saviours, sitting by my side, crying with me because my heart was broken and staying with me each night so the bed didn’t feel so big on my own. This was serious testimony to the strength of our friendship because I’d lost all concept of the outside world and for an entire week didn't eat, shower, or brush my teeth. When I finally surfaced, I was 7 kilos underweight, smelled like a foot, and had a small eco-system flourishing in my mouth. Gross.

The year following the breakup was a blur of beauty and danger; of fun and disappointment. I made new friends, rediscovered old ones and let go of others who were never really friends in the first place. I moved to Brisbane on a whim, got tattooed, got drunk, obsessed over losers, broke the hearts of good men, went back to uni, went a little crazy, forged my own way again and learnt to live on my own. I worked my ass off to be a person I could be proud of, played with abandon, made grand plans, laughed until I cried then cried because I missed him; cried because despite having loved him with my entire being, hindsight had cursed me with a remarkable new clarity and I’d run out of excuses for his inability to love me the way I deserved to be loved.

One of the biggest lessons the whole experience has taught me is that love in real life is nothing like the happily-ever-after of your childhood imaginings. It didn’t matter that we absolutely, inexplicably loved each other; the fact was we were intrinsically different people and I could never have been with him without sacrificing parts of me that make me who I am. In one moment on that seemingly normal day - the day after my 22nd birthday - I realised all the frustration, crippling self-doubt and desperate sadness suffered at his hands outweighed knowing he loved me more than he knew how to love anyone.

It’s these moments that define us as modern women, when our experience, knowledge and expectations manifest; when you’re rocked to your core and you grow as a human being. There is something empowering about valuing yourself enough to walk away from an unhealthy situation, regardless of how scary and heartbreaking a future on your own can seem. It’s amazing how resilient you can be if you give yourself the chance. If it weren’t for that one moment - that one seemingly ordinary day - I might never have resolved to take control of my own life and happiness.

Maybe all the shit is necessary. If nothing else, nothing will make you stronger than pulling your bedraggled soul out of the pit you’ve slowly dug for yourself. I look back on my life before that day and can hardly believe I allowed myself to be picked to pieces the way I was. None of that really matters now though because I chose better, and I’m still here.