Dance Like There's Nobody Watching


Love like you'll never be hurt. 

The Juniper Dress c/o Fame and Partners, Schutz Jaden heels. Shot by Rose Levy in Isla Mujeres, Mexico.

2017 was an eye-opening rollercoaster for me in many ways, but most of all it was the year I learned what it's like to be single again. After spending seven years together, Isaac and I went our separate ways this past July.

As open as I tend to be with my life and emotions, I never formally announced my breakup on the blog or social media, or even to half of my close friends to be honest, especially the ones that don't live in New York. In the beginning it was hard enough to make sense of my own feelings, let alone translate them into words. Like many people, I coped through avoidance. Followed by sadness. Then anger. And of course, distraction: boozy brunches, traveling, partying, plunging myself headfirst into work. You name it, I probably went through it.

But the thing that bothered me most about my breakup wasn't the process of coping and trying to find a way to move on. That all seemed natural. What bothered me instead was people's response when they found out. The most common comment I received? 'You're so brave.' Like being in one's early thirties and reverting back to singledom in New York City is equivalent to heading back out onto a war-torn battlefield. Like raising any concerns or questions one might have about a relationship, to the eventual detriment of that relationship, is a defiant act that should be avoided in exchange for a false sense of security. 

I could go on and on about the stigma with which society views single women in their 30's (and older) who happen to forego or veer off the traditional path of getting engaged, married and popping out a few babies, but that would take up way too much time and space. Suffice it to say that I learned quickly to avoid other people's advice (though I won't say hearing outside perspectives is not helpful or appreciated) and just go with my gut. If I feel like a good cry, I'll bawl my eyes out. If I want to have one drink too many, I'll have two. If buying a plane ticket to somewhere random (Wroclaw, Poland, anyone?) will make me feel better, even temporarily, I damn well am going to do it. 

And while it would be nice to smile and say that Isaac and I are still the best of friends, that sadly would be a lie. Although we have so much love and mutual respect for one another, even after 6 months it feels like it's still too soon. Isaac was at once an amazing best friend to me, an incredible (and patient) creative collaborator, and my first true (healthy) love... so I know it's only natural that it will take some time for us both to heal and move on to the friendship stage of things. All I'll say is that I hope eventually we do.  

At the end of the day, if nothing else grows out of what I'm going through, there's one thing that I'll know certainly did: me. So as we enter into a new year & new possibility, I hope that you all find it within yourselves to dream big, think different, embrace change and never let anyone else or society try to label you as something you're not. 

Wishing you all the best in 2018, with all my brave-ass heart.


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