I fell asleep around 10. My boyfriend at the time was in the other room watching TV. I felt him cozy up to me around midnight and didn't think much of it. In the morning I woke up with him and I kissed him goodbye for work. This is all while he knew that he had packed his things from our house into his vehicle and planned to leave. Now that you've most likely re-read that last sentence, I'm going to tell you that you read it right. While I fell asleep early he was packing his things in his car. In the morning he kissed me goodbye and told me that he would see me after work, and didn't think to mention that he wasn't coming home again.

My first instinct when I saw his toothbrush absent from the bathroom drawer wasn't even to be sad. It was to be mad. I was mad at him for packing up. I was mad at him for not giving me closure. I was mad at him for not even telling me that something was bothering him. More than being mad at him, I was mad at myself. I was mad at myself for taking him back yet again. I was mad that I didn't see the warning signs that he was going to leave. Lastly, I was mad at myself because I didn't feel like I was enough.

I began thinking about all of the things that were wrong with me that drove him away. I began psychoanalyzing my last words to him the night before and picking apart our last conversations within the past week. I could feel my body fill with so many emotions and I got the lump in my throat in the way that you do when someone delivers bad news. All of these things were on repeat in my head in what felt like forever, but really only lasted about 3 minutes.

Now here's where I get to the point of telling you all this.

When men leave, we tend to blame ourselves. There is such a common trend for women to quickly assume that they are not worthy or that something must be wrong with them. I am here to tell you that you have to stop doing that. After my 3 minutes of negative self-talk and mini-mental breakdown, I realized something. There was nothing wrong with me for someone to treat me that way. So instead of indulging in the negative self-talk and a pint of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough ice cream (mostly because I'm lactose intolerant so that wouldn't make me feel any better), I picked myself up and started thinking about all of the great things about myself.

I got my ass to the gym and I ran out all of the anger that I was feeling. I went home and made myself a quinoa salad and listened to Truth Hurts by Lizzo while dancing around my kitchen like I was hosting my own concert because I knew that all the time that I spent it feeling sorry for myself was just depleting my self-confidence. Instead of being mad at anyone, I focused on being the best version of myself. I focused on telling myself how amazing I am. I focused on all of the good things that I have in my life versus all of the negative. I dug myself out of the nostalgic feeling the past 5 years with him gave me and realized that I am worth more.

By this point, if you're reading this article, you either have gone through heartbreak and you're looking for comfort, or you're just purely interested in what I have to say. If you're not the latter, I'm not going to give you any comfort. I'm going to tell you that it's going to suck. It's going to really suck. There will be times that you feel weak, and times that you cry, and times that you feel mad.

I'm here to challenge you. I'm here to tell you that if you are consistently picking apart your last minutes with that person, you will not heal. You need to be your own hero in your story, and pick yourself back up. Surround yourself with good people who truly love and support you, and remember to take time for yourself. Sit at home and enjoy coffee on your own. Read a good book. Watch a great movie. Don't drown yourself in pitty because, girl, It's a trap. Learn to love you for who you are and the amazing things you have to offer, and you'll be surprised the positivity that will come your way.