Suddenly Single at 29

This past fall, I broke up with my boyfriend of seven years.

Sometimes when I say it it still sounds insane. Who breaks up with their boyfriend of seven years when they are in prime marrying age? => THIS METALLY-DERANGED PERSON, RIGHT HERE <==

Sometimes I feel like the dumbest person alive.

Actually, I don't feel that way, but my cousin told me that I was "literally the dumbest person he had ever met" after I told him about the breakup. I'm still trying to decide if that's better or worse than my other cousin who asked me if my ex-boyfriend dumped me because I was using too many drugs. Thank god for family, during these difficult times.

I won't go into all of the blood and guts of our breakup - and believe me, at the time, it gutted me like a fish. And thank god it did, because I needed to see my guts on the table, rifle through them, and seriously figure out what was there. That sort of life reckoning was long overdue.

I had been with my ex-boyfriend for the better part of this decade. You won't see a ton of whining on this blog about how sad and lonely I was in my 20s. Because I had a boyfriend who was obligated to provide me company, and love, and support, even when he didn't.

But now I'm 29, and I'm on my own.

Actually, the question that sticks in my head about all of this is not "why did you break up with your ex-boyfriend, whom you loved, whom you might have married, with whom you wanted to have babies, whom your family liked, with whom you had planned your past, present, and future?" That question has a deeply complicated, layered answer. But really, the only layer that matters is the simple one: I wanted to. Even though I couldn't always put words to why that was the case (though sometimes I did put words to it, mostly four letter ones), a little part of me knew I wanted to be without him.

Instead, the question that gnaws at me is, "why did it take you so long?"

I knew something was "off" in my relationship - I knew it for a long time, for years and years. I couldn't verbalize it, or maybe I didn't want to, or maybe I did, but I convinced myself that I should just feel lucky that I wasn't alone or with an abuser (for some reason, my mind could only see three plausible options for my life: either I could unhappy and coupled, unhappy and alone, or victimized; that I could be in a happy relationship felt unfathomable for some reason). I was afraid of admitting to myself that there was something wrong in our relationship, because it implicated me and implied that I had fucked up by investing so much into it. And the more deeply entrenched I got, the more the consequences of of my mistake seemed to balloon. I became even more scared about ending it. But still, a little part of me knew.

I had a zillion conversations with my ex-boyfriend to forge a path ahead and to try to relieve my doubt, but it just bore down deeper until a voice as loud and clear as the one that comes out of my own mouth screamed, YOU STUPID BITCH, ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND? THIS IS WRONG. GET OUT OF THIS NOW.

And I was all, FUCK YOU, INNER VOICE! HOW DARE YOU JUDGE MY DECISIONS, YOU ASS-HATTED WHOREMONGER! And then like literally 2.5 seconds later I was like HOLYFUCKINGSHIT, YOU'RE TOTALLY RIGHT. I'M SORRY INNER VOICE, IT IS I WHO IS THE ASS-HATTED WHOREMONGER.

Here's some free advice about your inner voice - and I mean the real one, not that charlatan inner voice who tells you do stuff like rob the guy you just made out with: If you're ever battling your inner voice you will lose, because that bitch is crazy - like "biter" crazy. You can put up a good fight, but ultimately she rules you. And that's a good thing, because she knows what you want better than you do. She's like a benevolent dictator.

I realize now that the question, "why didn't you do it sooner?" has a simple answer too: "because I couldn't." Leaving a very long term relationship takes courage, clear eyes, and a sober accounting of your life and what you want out of it, separate from what you think others want for you. I didn't have that courage or clarity at 24. I don't think a lot of people do.

But more than all of those things, confidently making a big decision takes the ability to listen - really listen - to the guidance of your inner voice and to trust it to lead you in the right direction. Learning this is the greatest lesson of my 20s and, unfortunately, you only learn it from being fucking miserable for a long ass fucking time.