What I Learned When I Called Off My Engagement

My life with David* came as a complete surprise. I returned to my family’s small-town home in Australia after a six-month stay in Osaka. My entire energy was devoted to how I could get back to Japan. I was living there, and all I needed to do to graduate was to return. David liked it when I said, “My conversation is on the house — I will buy my own drinks.” Independence was my thing, even when it came to relationships.

In four days, I went from being cool to feeling lovesick. I wanted to hear from him constantly, to feel valued, and to know that he was interested, from someone who did not care about marriage to continually thinking about my imagined future children and how I would cook my man for that night.

I quietly put aside my dream of returning to Osaka in search of the white picket fencing. I waited, hints, and wondered when he’d pop the question.

David led me into the lounge one night while we were at my late grandfather’s house. I could see candles glowing behind closed eyelids, and I suddenly felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. It’s going to happen!” but I also had a gut feeling that said, “I don’t want this.”

When I saw the man I loved kneeling with a ring on his finger, I knew the answer had to be “yes.” But I couldn’t let go of my dream life, and this feeling would not leave me alone.

If you are having major doubts, then you shouldn’t even be engaged. I don’t mean your normal nervousness but rather a debilitating and undermining uncertainty.

I was uncomfortable with my ideas about marriage. I was terrified. I was terrified. From the cost-per-head to wondering what makes a good wife, I was scared. I sabotaged the entire thing without ever intending to. It was the thing I wanted and one I didn’t want anymore.

I realized my entire world revolved around him. I put my plans aside to try to fit into a persona that didn’t suit me in hopes of impressing him. He stayed, yes, but I felt directionless and depressed. I was hopping from job to job and trying to live a meaningful and fulfilling life. I wanted to be a trailblazer; he wanted someone who would support him. I didn’t understand how to reconcile who I was with my values. Slowly, I started to resent his actions.

David said to me one day, “This should be sufficient for you.” But it wasn’t. I despised that arrogance, that a good man should be adequate for a female.

The final straw was when I asked him if he would like to spend a week in Osaka with me. I was meeting my best friend. She was half a world away from me and needed to leave Missouri because of a bad streak of luck. This girl was the conduit that brought me back to myself. At that moment, I was focused on nothing else. He refused to come, and he was viciously rude when I suggested that I go alone. My blood was boiling. I still went.

I ended the relationship before it began. I interpreted my fear as a sign that the time wasn’t right yet. He put on an act of bravery and said it was fine. You will hurt your partner if you break up with them,m even if they are the ones you love. Even if they are still your future spouse, you may be saying, “I’m just not ready,” but they might hear, “I’m still not ready.” They may then leave.

It took me a long while to reconcile the desire for adventure and freedom I had with the domestic image that my marriage gave me. I started to wish that I was “free.”

He moved out, and I was left. I had no idea what to do with the space. I was both lonely and afraid. When you put your self-worth in someone else, and they disappear, it’s like that. Here’s how I went about my recovery.

1. I cried. I cried. I called in the office. I called while running on the treadmill. There were so many emotions.
2. I stopped listening to love songs and self-talking. I had so much unspoken hurt and rejection that I did not need to use those two popular weapons.
3. I lived from day to day. I could not cope with “no plans” without someone to fill in the gap (he was my idea), so I disengaged from everything and lived each day. Then I found cheap flights, and I started making plans.
4. And caught planes. There were a lot of them. It was beautiful and lonely, and I could cry on airplanes, too.
5. I recovered. My stomach flipped when I received the first kiss after a breakup. I thought I would be sick. Listen to your body if it tells you something is wrong.
6. I have walked more. I walked more. I cried less.
7. I made new friends and learned that I was not totally miserable and unlovable. I was only hurt.

It was partly to get him back and partially to punish him for leaving that I made some of the phone calls that I regret. I didn’t want to make him feel comfortable if he wanted to break my heart. Even so, I refused to hear others speak badly about him, and I publicly kept a straight face, all the while trying desperately to understand what I had done. Last tip: Do not make the call. You will regret it. It’s not worth it to be self-deprecating, even if you believe they deserve it.

In my recovery, I heard a lot about the “stages” of grief and realized that they don’t really work linearly. Then you will think that you are all better and then find yourself in a complete mess. You will be worn out by grief and rejection. Sometimes, they can be more powerful than facts, memory, and rationality.

My mantra was, “One day everything will be fine.” One day, it was all right.

This roller coaster taught me the importance of knowing myself and what I want, as well as the courage it takes to follow my intuition. I want to grow my capital before I invest in someone else. To listen to that voice saying “Something is wrong” and to honor that voice. It’s much better to hear that voice than to end up Googling ten years “trapped, unhappy.”