Getting dumped

The unfortunate other side of my previous post (about sex on the road): getting dumped.  A nomadic lifestyle leads you to meeting and getting attached to lots of new people, many of whom are specifically drawn by your wandering ways and seemingly romantic presence.  You’re in and out of their lives like a fairytale hero(ine), with your rugged jawline and backpack full of grubby, mysterious possessions…

My friend Christine told me her dad ran away to Vancouver when he was 16, and when he was 23, decided to jog across Canada to raise money for the mentally and physically disabled.  He made it and met her mom in the process.  She, in her turn, inherited both a great love for her dad (who wouldn’t?) and his wanderlust; as she says, “Being a traveler, I have never been able to restrict myself to only falling for people within a 15-kilometre radius of where I live.”  But it’s hard for a lot of lovers to understand the wandering lifestyle, and even if you’re totally honest about your intentions and goals (and even if you ask them to join you on your travels), sometimes that can lead to mismatched expectations, unexpected revelations, and someone getting their heart broken.

So how do you deal with a broken heart on the road?  

Well, assuming you haven’t been stranded in the mountains of Kyrgystan after a shouting match that alarmed the locals, try to remain on as civil terms with your ex-loved-one as possible.  You were friends for a reason.  Remember that as you part your ways.  They have good reasons for leaving, no matter how much you might not want them to go; respect their emotions and resist the urge to pester them with “But why?” if they’ve already explained why.

On the road, it’s harder to contact your support group, since they might all be far away; resist the urge to get drunk and find a rebound partner by calling or emailing your best friends.  Even if you’re a dude and you don’t share your feelings.  Consider writing in a journal or a letter; DON’T write in your blog, since you will almost certainly regret it later.

Be kind to yourself, as if you were sick: take it easy and consider staying in one place for a little longer, to give yourself the comforts of familiarity.  Buy your favorite foods.  Treat yourself to a massage.  Resist the urge to write long tearful letters to your now-ex.  Or better, write them, and then burn them.  Remember: you chose your lifestyle for a reason, because it was the only way you could be (or the preferable way).  If you got dumped for another reason entirely — that is, one having nothing to do with your wandering ways — the same applies.  You are who you are, and sometimes that just doesn’t work with someone else.

Eat chocolate, go jogging, distract yourself.  If you’re traveling with friends, go out and enjoy some time with them (I’d avoid a Thai brothel while you’re feeling vulnerable and fragile, though).  Alcoholics Anonymous has an adage: one day at a time.  And that’s how you can go.  Each day is fresh, whether it’s with your loved one or not: try to see potential in every corner, every space, and rest assured that you will find love again.  As my dad says, “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”  About 25 years ago, he broke up with a woman he loved but it just wasn’t working out; last year, they found each other randomly and started dating again.

Getting dumped is no fun, but it’s not the end of the world.  One foot in front of the other, and before you know it, you’ll be watching the sun rise off Kilimanjaro and feeling just a smidge better.

Posted by | Comments Off on Getting dumped  | November 17, 2008
Category: Notes from the collective travel mind

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