The Biggest Breakup

The Biggest Breakup

by Valerie

I spent 20 years of my adult life in the pursuit of a successful relationship. By successful, I mean one that ended in marriage. Yes, I said “ended in…” because I didn’t really think about much beyond the wedding day. As a Mormon woman, if I got married in the temple and had a baby, that was the pinnacle of my success. And the rest of my life would be smooth sailing. So I worked far more on securing a man than I did on my own development. The only improvements I made were for that end. From age 18 to the day I met my now husband was a total of 20 years.

During those two decades, I dated. Not a lot, but I had a few relationships that held my hopes and dreams. Obviously (and thankfully), none of those worked out. When a relationship ended, part of my grief included creating a playlist for that breakup. I’d add songs that captured my thoughts and feelings about the man or the breakup, and the moment I felt the playlist was complete, I knew I had moved on from that relationship. Some playlists were hours long. Others not so much. One playlist had only one song: Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain,” and I think that sums up the relationship.

Somehow in the transition from Spotify to Apple Music, my breakup playlists got lost. I’m kinda sad about that, because I was really proud of those playlists. They were a journal of sorts. And they were a big part of my healing process.

What does this have to do with The Uncharted Territory that is my faith deconstruction? This is by far The Biggest Breakup*TM. I was in a relationship with Mormonism that spanned 45 years. And lest you think I am exaggerating, one of the scriptures that was a hallmark of my single days is Alma 37:36 from The Book of Mormon, “…let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever.”

Yeah. I was that far gone for this dude. It is not hyperbole to say that I was obsessed. This relationship was the measuring stick for every other relationship I would have. And any other relationship was always secondary to my relationship with Mormonism. It wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t a friendship. It consumed me to the point that I had no identity outside of it.

Any therapist will tell you that this is an unhealthy relationship. When you lose your autonomy, your interests, and even your voice to the relationship, you need to cut ties. Recognizing that I was lost inside this relationship was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Extricating myself from it is still a work in progress.

I told my partner that I need some space and instigated a separation. I kicked him out. I told him I would check in after six months and again after twelve, but I watched with a new set of eyes as those milestones came and went. I won’t be inviting him back.

It wasn’t long after I ended things that I started the playlist. Anger, grief, longing, despair, more anger, resolve, power, and strength are all represented. Here’s a sampling:

King of Anything by Sara Bareilles, with lines like “All my life, I’ve tried / To make everyone happy while I just hurt / And hide / Waiting for someone to tell me it’s my turn / To decide.”

Cassandra by Florence + the Machine, “Oh, drunken gods of slaughter / You know I’ve always been your favorite daughter / Well can you see me? / I cannot see you / Everything I thought I knew / I’ve been deafened to / And there’s no one left to sing to.”

Damn, It Feels Good to Be Me by Andy Grammer, (honestly, I think the title alone says it all).

Destiny Calls, by my talented niece Megan Shumway, “Everything I’ve ever been told / Starts to fold under pressure and scrutiny / No I never asked many questions / Just went along with what I was supposed to be / Destiny calls / But it doesn’t sound familiar anymore.”

Clean (Taylor’s Version), by Taylor Swift, “The rain came pouring down when I was drowning / That’s when I could finally breathe.”

This Wish, by Ariana DeBose and Disney, “Isn’t truth supposed to set you free? / Well why do I feel so weighed down by it?”

Closer to Fine, by Indigo Girls, “And the less I seek my source for some definitive / The closer I am to fine.”

Total play time is nearly 8 hours. And honestly, I don’t think I will put the lid on this one for some time. After all, 45 years is a long time. And it’s going to take time to wrap it up. One thing I can say for sure. The more distance I put between me and him, the stronger I feel and the more confident I am.

And scream-singing “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together” at the top of my lungs has been one of the most spiritually uplifting rituals that I have ever participated in. It fills me with way more joy than asking god three times to hear the words of my mouth. After all, I am brave. I am bruised. I am who I’m meant to be. This. Is. Me.