The Breakup Book: 20 Steps to Heal a Broken Heart

THE BREAKUP BOOK

I knew this significant and original book would be informative—and it is, very. What I didn’t expect: pure inspiration in a fresh voice that will make readers feel they have a smart and sassy new best friend. Surviving a broken heart is not easy, yet Robins creates an environment through her writing that is comfortable, safe, and welcoming.

—Giuliana Rancic, Anchor, E! News

I loved this book. Charismatic and engaging, Lesley approaches her readers with humor and compassion. After taking in this profound and deeply moving book, you will forever know how to mend your heart, no matter what the situation.

—Sherry Gaba, LCSW, Life Coach on

Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew

Lesley Robins is very wise and brutally honest. It’s tough out there. This book is written in a funny, straightforward, no B.S. kind of way and reminds me how delicate relationships and breakups really are.

—Kevin Connolly, Actor, Entourage

Lesley Robins rocks and here’s why: I have a beautiful, young daughter, and as a young father who knows what it’s like out there in the world, what I fear most about her growing up is . . . boys. I look forward to passing on these words of wisdom to her. This book is awesome. Read it.

—Constantine Maroulis, American Idol Finalist,

Tony® Nominee, Rock of Ages

With humor, authenticity, wisdom, and a style that is all her own, Lesley Robins delivers an important message, in a fresh new way, that may save millions from stewing in the depths of anguish for longer than necessary. The reader will feel they have just connected with a good friend who really knows the pain they are going through . . . and how to get to the other side. Her words are uplifting, motivational, and extremely supportive.

—Tammi Baliszewski, PhD, Host at Empower Radio

"Lesley charms her readers by taking a delicate subject and writing about it in a smart and witty way, like something taken right out of a Sex and the City episode. A modern-day relationship bible that will help mend any broken heart."

—Carissa Chesanek, Miami Editor, Zagat

Every word she writes in this book hits home! Being in the midst of a breakup, I was clinging to every word. I wanted to erase some of the missteps I’d already taken and do it her way . . . it makes more sense. Lesley gives spot-on advice in every portion of her book but the section I coveted was ‘Step Nine: Get Out of Dodge.’ It works wonders, as does the rest of her heartfelt advice.

—Peta Phipps, Publisher, Caribbean Living magazine

THE

BREAK

UPBOOK

20 Steps to Heal a BROKEN HEART

LESLEY

ROBINS

New York

THE BREAKUP BOOK

20 Steps to Heal a BROKEN HEART

© 2015 LESLEY ROBINS.

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ISBN 978-1-63047-123-1 hardcover

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I dedicate this book to

A man that came into the world

During my darkest time

Who reminded me what joy is

My nephew, Dennis Ian,

Or as I call him,

Munchkin.

Table of Contents

Introduction My Breakup Story 1

Step One Don’t Be Alone 15

Step Two Let The Tears Flow 23

Step Three Step Away From The Computer 27

Step Four Sculpt Your Post-Breakup Body 33

Step Five Write About It 38

Step Six Hit The Couch 44

Step Seven Stay Busy 48

Step Eight Feel The Pain 54

Step Nine Get Out Of Dodge 58

Step Ten Be Inspired By Other Survivors 63

Step Eleven Go Cold Turkey With Your Ex 68

Step Twelve Be Available 74

Step Thirteen Create Your Home 79

Step Fourteen Lay Low, Solo 83

Step Fifteen Find Your Fun 87

Step Sixteen Detail Your Life 92

Step Seventeen Remember The Red Flags 96

Step Eighteen Be Patient 101

Step Nineteen Listen And Learn 106

Step Twenty Have Gratitude 115

Conclusion My Happy Ending Can Be Yours 118

My Acceptance Speech 127

About The Author 129

Appendix 130

My Happy List 130

INTRODUCTION

MY BREAKUP STORY

In 2010, I went through a disastrous breakup. It was a breakup that dragged on for another year and a half, a breakup that had happened many times before with the same guy. I wrote about it. Slowly, I healed. And then, miraculously, I became awesome.

My story is nothing new. Love, unbridled passion, crushed hearts. No one has it all figured out. No one. Everything seems possible when in love. Life-changing decisions can be motivated by love; likewise, life-destroying decisions can come from the heart. I am not immune to falling flat on my face in search of this natural high and having to pick myself up piece by piece when it came crashing down in the end.

Breakups happen to everyone. They don’t discriminate by race, gender, age, sexual orientation, hometown, or celebrity status. Your heart could have been busted up many times before and glued back together like Humpty Dumpty, but it will break again and test your strength. Breakups will humble you and tear you apart. Some breakups can make you feel like the world is coming to an end.

Over and over again the process goes—falling in love and finding that bliss, to the breakup you didn’t want to see coming and the heartbreak that follows. That moment when one side of the seesaw comes crashing down because the other person decides to get off the ride, and there you are stuck at the bottom with no one on the other side. You start to cry. Your body aches. Why would the other person get off the seesaw? Playgrounds used to be fun. WTF?!

A breakup isn’t something you can ever really prepare for, either. You may have a hunch that something is about to go down, but you never really know when that conversation will strike. Even if you do suspect a breakup is about to happen, but it’s not you pulling the trigger, you will try to talk yourself out of believing it’s about to happen. And believe it or not, most likely there is nothing you can do to stop it.

There are many kinds of breakups. There are the ones where you’ve been dating for a couple of weeks and you both know it’s not going anywhere, so you each walk away relatively unharmed. Then there’s the breakup that happens after a few months of dating, where hearts probably will be slightly broken, maybe one more than the other, but it wasn’t a ton of time that you invested into the relationship, so you walk away in one piece, albeit missing that person for a while. That one takes some time to heal, and it’s not fun to get over them. You may go back for more after the initial breakup, but that gets old pretty fast.

You have the not-so-mutual breakup that hurts no matter how long you’ve been with the person, because no matter what, rejection sucks. Being rejected in any situation isn’t cool, especially when it’s someone you shared time with, shared a bed with, and shared your life with. Some may even say leaving a man’s place after you met him once is a breakup, but that one is debatable. It seems all men we are with, in some way or another, become exes.

Then there’s the nuclear breakup. The one that rocks your soul. The one you prayed to God would never happen, but did. It’s the one where hearts are definitely broken, seemingly beyond repair, dreams and plans come crashing down, and lives are altered forever. I had one of those. In fact, my hardest, most painful breakup was the catalyst for this book. He was a man who was in my life on and off for almost seven years, a relationship that evolved into a horribly dysfunctional love triangle.

To protect his privacy, I will call my ex-boyfriend Mr. My Big and his other woman I will call Natasha. If he wasn’t with me, he was with Natasha. If he wasn’t with Natasha, he was with me. This was what the scenario felt like throughout those seven years. Only after being out of such an insane situation would I be able to see the bigger picture of how I was caught in a toxic web. I was the ex-girlfriend you just didn’t want your boyfriend to still have around. And what made this breakup different from all the other breakups in my life was being fully aware of Natasha, trying my best to always make things right, but in the end failing miserably.

Here is a journal entry that shows how I felt immediately after our big breakup in 2010:

Can’t say time has helped any. I am hollow, distraught, in pain, lost, numb, directionless, lonely, just pure devastation . . . I cry all the time. All the time. I’d rather be under a blanket on my couch than out with people. I don’t even know if talking about it helps. I miss him. I’m dying.

I met Mr. My Big at our mutual friend Ren’s birthday party in early 2005. I was 29. We saw each other from across the bar and spent the rest of that evening attached at the hip. I went home that night glowing. He texted immediately, and from that moment on we dated. Dinner by the beach where he lived, cuddling on his couch listening to the waves crash, him coming to see me in the San Fernando Valley where I lived. I fell for him immediately. We had undeniable sexual chemistry, we both worked in the television industry, and we enjoyed the same sports and activities. From the get-go, it felt effortless and easy.

We would soon realize that we had met before, in the fall of 2004 when he came to a TV network I was working at to conduct an interview. I had noticed him through a glass wall that encased a conference room where he was doing the interview and had felt completely smitten. We wound up riding the elevator down together after his interview. Moments later, I called Ren, who worked with him. He filled me in and shortly after warned me to stay away. Ren said he had just moved to Los Angeles for that job and that he just broke up with a girl, Natasha, who was back in another state. There was the first red flag—his recent breakup—and I hadn’t even officially met him yet. I tried to ignore this fact about his past, but it never really went away. But he did.

After a few months of dating, he disappeared. Suddenly. He just stopped calling and texting. Enter Ren again, who informed me Mr. My Big and Natasha had gotten back together and she was moving here. I was so pissed off and felt like a fool, but I soon let it go and started dating other people.

I ran into Mr. My Big and Natasha at a Super Bowl party in 2006. I’d later find out that Natasha said to Mr. My Big, The minute I saw her, I knew she was trouble, about that chance encounter. She was right. I was trouble. We were trouble. We had a thing. An electric, magnetic thing. He texted me later that night, saying something about how it was great to see me and he loved my boots. I was seeing someone at the time. I ignored his text. Unfortunately, I’d never be that strong again.

Three months after that Super Bowl party, Mr. My Big and I wound up at Ren’s for a house party and our connection picked up again. I couldn’t stop the feelings, even though I knew he was