My mom always left my dad, swearing it was for good, only to return after his apologies and gifts. It became a pattern I was used to, a cycle that never broke. But this time, when she showed up at my door with a suitcase, she had news that changed everything.
I sat across from my friend Sandy in my kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of free time together. Life got busy, and it felt like we never saw each other anymore.
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“It’s nice to finally catch up,” Sandy said with a smile.
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, pouring her a glass of wine.
After a pause, she looked at me curiously. “Is your mom living with you now?”
“No, why would she?” Sandy’s eyebrows furrowed.
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“I thought she left your dad again?”
“Oh, you know how it goes with them. Every two years, same story. He messes up, she gets mad, packs her bags, and swears she’s done for good. Then he buys her something fancy, and suddenly all is forgiven. They act like they’re in love again, like nothing ever happened.” Sandy sighed.
“Have you tried talking some sense into her?”
“I did,” I said, feeling the old frustration return.
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“I told her she deserves better. But then she goes back to him, and she’d get mad at me, saying I wasn’t supporting her.”
Sandy frowned and took a sip of her wine. “I’m sorry, Amalia. That sounds hard.”
My eyes landed on the corner of the kitchen table, where my mom had left a note the last time she left my dad. I could still picture her then—standing in my doorway, suitcase in hand, her face full of hope.
“I’ve left him for good this time, Amalia,” she said with a determined smile.
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I wanted to believe her, but deep down, I doubted it. Still, a tiny hope stirred inside me, whispering that maybe this time would be different.
We went to a café nearby for breakfast, sitting across from each other. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and finally said what I’d been too scared to say before.
“Mom, you know you can’t keep going back to him, right?” I asked, my voice steady.
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She looked down at her coffee, then back up at me with a weak smile. “Of course, I’m not planning to. I’ve made up my mind.”
I sighed and leaned closer. “He’s awful, Mom. He treated you terribly. He doesn’t change.”
“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and took her hand.
“I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know?”
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She squeezed my hand, her eyes watering. “Thank you, dear. It means a lot.”
I thought maybe my words got through to her. Maybe this time would be different. But when I came back from work that evening, the house was quiet. I called for her, but no answer.
Instead, a note sat on the table: “Your father apologized and bought me a new car. I realized I overreacted and went back. XX Mom.” I crumpled the note, tossing it into the trash. How foolish I’d been to hope.
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Sandy’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. “You should understand your mom better than anyone,” she said. “You left Robert, and that was hard. But you did it.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it was hard. But I knew I had to.” She lifted her glass, her eyes warm.
“Well, I think you’re strong as hell. Cheers to that.”
I laughed and raised my glass. “Cheers.”
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The next morning, I woke up late. My alarm didn’t go off, or maybe I just slept through it. Either way, I was rushing around, trying to get dressed, find my keys, and grab my bag all at once.
My hair was a mess, and I could barely think straight. I could already tell it was going to be one of those days where nothing goes right. As I tried to slip on my shoes, I heard the doorbell. I glanced at the clock.
I didn’t have time for this. “Damn it,” I muttered, frustrated. I opened the door and froze. There stood my mom, holding a suitcase, her face serious.
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I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words slipped out. “What did Dad do this time?!”
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, and she said, “He died.”
For a moment, everything around me just stopped. I couldn’t breathe or think. My mind went completely blank, like a switch had been turned off. I tried to say something, anything, but no words came out.
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After hearing the news, I called my boss and said I needed the day off. There wasn’t much I could explain, so I just told him there was a family emergency. My mom and I got in the car and drove back to my childhood home.
When we arrived, I walked into my old bedroom and felt a rush of memories. Everything was the same—the posters on the wall, the faded bedspread, even the little figurines on the shelf. It was like stepping back in time, and for a moment, I felt like I was a teenager again.
On the morning of the funeral, I woke up to loud music blasting through the house. I groaned, pulled the pillow over my head, but Mom just turned it up louder, filling every corner of the house.
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“Mom! Turn it off!” I shouted, my voice barely cutting through the blaring music.
“What?!” she yelled back from somewhere down the hall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you!”
A moment later, the music stopped, and I heard her footsteps. She appeared in my doorway, looking calm, like it was just a regular morning. “What were you saying?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Why is the music so loud?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s too early for this.”
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She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “This song makes me happy,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I stared at her. “You’re not supposed to feel happy today. It’s the funeral.”
She looked at me, still smiling. “Why not? You should feel happy every day, no matter what’s happening.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Besides, this song is like 20 years old. Nobody listens to it anymore.”
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She raised an eyebrow. “You used to love it,” she said. “I remember you dancing around your room, singing every word.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “and then I got sick of it, like everyone else.”
She paused for a moment. “I don’t know. When I love something, I love it forever,” she said softly, then turned and walked out. A few seconds later, the music started up again, just as loud.
After greeting everyone at the church, shaking hands, and hearing the same phrases—”I’m so sorry for your loss,” “He was a good man”—I felt drained. It was like I was on autopilot, just nodding and thanking people without really thinking.
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I needed a break, so I slipped away to a small, quiet room at the back of the church. I was hoping to be alone for a minute, but when I walked in, Mom was already there, sitting by the window. She looked up and smiled, her eyes tired but calm.
“I don’t like funerals either,” Mom said, staring out the window.
I just scoffed, feeling a bitter laugh rise in my throat. “Yeah, well, we’re stuck here.”
She turned back to me. “Did you prepare your speech?” she asked, her tone gentle.
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I shook my head. “I’m not saying anything. I don’t have anything good to say about him.”
Mom’s face softened, like she was trying to understand. “Why not? He was a good father and a wonderful husband.”
I stared at her, stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we talking about the same person?”
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She looked confused. “Why do you hate him so much?” she asked, almost like she truly didn’t understand. “I never got it.”
“Why? Do you really want to know?” I felt something snap inside, and the words just came pouring out. “When I was 13, you went on a business trip, and my friend stayed over. We heard noises from your bedroom. We thought someone was hurt, so we went to check…”
“…And there he was, in bed with Mrs. Brown, our neighbor. I just screamed and ran out of the house. And when I came back, he didn’t say a word to me. He pretended like it never happened, like I didn’t see it. That’s why I hated him. And I still hate him,” I said, my voice trembling.
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Mom’s eyes softened. “I know.”
“You don’t know how I feel!” I shouted, tears welling up.
“I mean, I know about the affairs,” she said, her voice calm.
“You knew?” I asked, shocked. “And you did nothing?”
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“Of course I knew,” she said softly.
“Then I hate you too,” I said, my voice cold. I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.
“I’m sorry, Amalia,” Mom said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong like you. I was scared to leave him. I didn’t know how to do it for good.”
“You think I wasn’t scared when I left Robert? I was terrified,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “But I did it because I knew I had to. And you know what? It was hard, but eventually, it felt… freeing.”
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“I’m glad to hear that. I never liked Robert, you know. When you left him, I was so proud. You knew you deserved better. But it wasn’t the same for me. When I love something, I love it forever. And I loved your father.” I stared at her, confused.
“Even after he treated you that way?”
She nodded. “He wasn’t perfect. I never needed him to be. He had flaws, and some were really big ones. But he always came back.”
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I frowned, trying to understand.
She sighed, her eyes meeting mine. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear you hate me. Because all this time, I thought you didn’t care. And between hate and indifference, I’d rather have your hate.”
I didn’t expect those words to hit me the way they did, but they did. For some reason, I found myself smiling a little. I glanced at the clock. “We need to go. People will be waiting.”
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Mom gently placed her hand on my back. “You know, your father loved two things most in life: expensive liquor and making you laugh. Maybe you can mention that in your speech, but… skip the first part,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
I couldn’t help but laugh, a real, honest laugh, and for a moment, the tension lifted. We left the small room together, side by side, and I felt something shift inside me.
I glanced at Mom and realized she wasn’t just my mom—she was a person, with her own fears, flaws, and regrets. I had always seen her as someone who should be stronger, someone who should have known better. But in that moment, I understood she was just trying her best, like I was.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: While helping her mother, Sarah, move into a new house, Natalie stumbles upon an old photograph hidden in a box. It shows a young Sarah holding a newborn baby with a distinctive birthmark on its cheek. But Natalie never had a birthmark. Confused and unsettled, she realizes there’s a secret her mother has been hiding.
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Men May Get Hurt More Than Women During a Breakup, and Here’s Why
Breakups are never easy. They bring a whirlwind of emotions, self-reflection, and sometimes, heart-wrenching pain. While it’s commonly believed that women are more emotional during a breakup, recent studies suggest that men may actually experience more emotional distress than women.
Why is that? The answer lies in a mix of psychological, societal, and emotional factors that shape how men handle breakups. Let’s dive into the reasons why breakups tend to hit men harder and what they can do to recover.
Men and Emotional Vulnerability: A Silent Struggle
From a young age, men are often conditioned to suppress their emotions. Society teaches them that showing vulnerability is a sign of weakness. While women are encouraged to express their feelings and seek support, men are more likely to bottle up their emotions.
This emotional suppression can be damaging. When a breakup happens, men might not have a strong support system in place to help them process the pain. Many men rely on their romantic partners as their primary emotional support, so when that relationship ends, they often feel lost and alone.
Without an outlet to talk about their feelings, men may struggle with feelings of sadness, loneliness, and even depression—sometimes much more intensely than women.
Societal Expectations: The Pressure to “Man Up”
One of the biggest reasons men struggle with breakups is the pressure to “man up” and move on quickly. Society often expects men to show emotional resilience, discouraging them from expressing grief or sadness.
Women, on the other hand, are more likely to seek comfort from friends, discuss their emotions, and actively work through their pain. Men, however, are often expected to act as if nothing has happened.
This need to maintain a tough exterior can prolong the healing process. Instead of working through their emotions, men might turn to distractions like excessive work, alcohol, or rebound relationships—only to find that the pain resurfaces later.
Why Romantic Relationships Matter More to Men
Men and women often approach relationships differently. While women tend to build multiple sources of emotional support through friendships and family, men frequently rely on their romantic partners as their main source of emotional intimacy.
When that relationship ends, it’s not just the loss of a girlfriend or wife—it’s the loss of a best friend, a confidant, and sometimes, their only emotional support system.
This can make the breakup feel like a double hit, leaving men struggling not only with heartbreak but also with a deep sense of emotional isolation.
Delayed Grief: Why Men Take Longer to Heal
Men and women grieve breakups differently. Women tend to feel the emotional pain more intensely at first, but they also process it faster by talking about it and seeking closure.
Men, however, often delay confronting their emotions. Instead of immediately processing the pain, they may distract themselves with work, hobbies, or casual relationships. But unresolved feelings don’t just disappear—they resurface later, sometimes in the form of depression, anxiety, or a lingering sense of emptiness.
This delayed emotional response can make breakups more painful for men in the long run, prolonging the healing process.
The Role of Attachment Styles in Breakup Pain
Attachment styles—the way people form emotional bonds—also play a role in how men experience breakups. Studies suggest that men are more likely to have an avoidant attachment style, meaning they struggle with emotional closeness but still feel deeply affected when a relationship ends.
This paradox can make breakups especially painful for men. On one hand, they may try to act indifferent and suppress their feelings. On the other hand, they might secretly feel heartbroken and unable to move on.
Women, by contrast, are more likely to have secure or anxious attachment styles, making them more willing to process and express their emotions.
Men Tend to Romanticize Past Relationships
Another reason men may suffer more after a breakup is that they often romanticize their past relationships. Instead of focusing on why the relationship ended, they tend to idealize the good times and overlook the problems.
Women, on the other hand, are more likely to process a breakup by analyzing what went wrong. This approach helps them gain clarity and move forward.
For men, however, this nostalgia can trap them in a cycle of regret and longing, making it even harder to let go and heal.
The Physical Impact of Breakups on Men
Breakups don’t just affect emotional health—they take a toll on physical health as well. Research suggests that men are more likely than women to experience:
- Sleep disturbances (insomnia or excessive sleeping)
- Changes in appetite (weight loss or gain)
- Weakened immune system (higher stress levels, increased risk of illness)
- Risky behaviors (drinking, smoking, reckless behavior)
Since men are less likely to seek emotional support, the stress of a breakup can manifest physically, leading to long-term health problems.
Why Women Heal Faster
Women tend to have healthier coping mechanisms when dealing with a breakup. They are more likely to:
- Talk about their emotions with friends and family
- Seek professional help like therapy or counseling
- Engage in self-care routines, like exercise or journaling
- Reflect on the relationship to understand what went wrong
These strategies allow women to process their emotions faster, helping them heal and move on more effectively than men.
Men, on the other hand, often suppress their pain and avoid dealing with it head-on, which ultimately prolongs their suffering.
How Men Can Heal After a Breakup
If breakups tend to hit men harder, what can they do to heal faster and move forward?
- Acknowledge Your Feelings – It’s okay to feel sad, angry, or confused. Accept your emotions instead of suppressing them.
- Talk to Someone – Whether it’s a close friend, family member, or therapist, opening up can help release pent-up emotions.
- Prioritize Self-Care – Exercise, eat well, and maintain a healthy routine to keep both your mind and body in check.
- Stay Busy, But Don’t Avoid Healing – Engaging in new hobbies or activities is great, but don’t use them as an escape from your emotions.
- Reflect and Grow – Instead of dwelling on what’s lost, focus on what you’ve learned and how you can grow from the experience.
Healing takes time, but taking proactive steps can make the journey smoother and more empowering.
Conclusion: The Emotional Reality of Breakups for Men
While breakups are painful for everyone, men often struggle more due to emotional suppression, societal expectations, and a lack of support systems. Their tendency to avoid emotions, romanticize past relationships, and delay grief can make the healing process more challenging.
However, understanding these factors can pave the way for healthier coping strategies. By embracing vulnerability, seeking support, and focusing on self-care, men can heal and emerge stronger from a breakup.
At the end of the day, heartbreak is a painful but transformative experience. It’s not just about losing someone—it’s about rediscovering yourself, learning from the past, and preparing for healthier, more fulfilling relationships in the future.
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