Leave the crumbs, take the loaf

To break, or break up, that is the question.

Last week I went to New York alone. The first time in nine months without a baby, first time in over a year utterly alone without any sort of being inside me. You should all try it. This alone thing. A plane ride with only your baggage. A bed completely your own to eat Thai food in and watch a gay Netflix rom-com about the First Son of the United States falling in love with the Prince of England called Red, White & Royal Blue. A meal at a mediocre overpriced restaurant that you will never tell anyone about, making it exist solely in your memory, completely alone.

I went to New York to produce the first ever live event for fellow Substacker and brilliant friend, Emily Kirkpatrick, whose newsletter I <3 MESS - the best of the worst celebrity fashion - is a must follow. And while I was there for “work,” this first trip alone meant the rest of the weekend I could pretend to be who I used to be for the 12 years I lived in NYC: a mostly untethered, mostly single, mostly poor, mostly lonely, alone person. I saw art and drank with friends and constantly refreshed the baby camera to make sure my dude was asleep at a reasonable hour (he was). I even saw an ex from my late 20s (more on that below) and started a working relationship with him that we probably should have had all along. But maturity like that is usually reserved for your late 30s… or whenever they decide to get midlife crisis pigtails.

Of course it’s a privilege to have a partner who I can trust to take care of my kid while I fuck off in a different country. But it’s even a privilege to choose to be alone. As single people we try to find a situation to keep us from dying alone, and as attached people we die for a weekend solo. Is there a middle ground? A way to be alone but not lonely? I guess it’s day care.

Are you alone? Are you together but lonely? Send me your love questions and I’ll answer them on the next flight I have without a screaming child.

Let’s get into it.

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After a long term relationship with someone who couldn't commit, I instigated taking a break, but a real break - moving out, dividing our things, no sex, etc. The idea was to see if with space, he could imagine a future together. It has been three months and true to himself, he has oscillated between disconsolate sadness and gestures so thoughtful they make me weep and total thoughtlessness (ex: for my bday giving me a book by a couples therapist about how to rebuild a healthy bond in a partnership and then days later telling me he was no longer putting attention into thinking about our relationship and how good that felt). I feel yanked around and exhausted. If all of this is under the guise of a break, and not a breakup, how do I move forward????

- Broken After a Break

Dear Broken,

Funny how context shifts by just adding or taking away one little word. A break or a break up. A fuck or a fuck up. To give or to give up.

You have spent years in a relationship that could end at any moment, with a partner who was always one foot out the door, but also one foot in, with the lingering promise that he could give it all, or give it all up. This state of in-between commitment is agonizing. Some call it bread-crumbing, leaving little morsels to keep you going towards a cake that may never come. Those little crumbs make us crazy; we are constantly waiting for the next bite, delirious with hunger for more. It’s basically torture, with enough of a good thing to justify sticking around. But the thing about bread-crumbing is it only works when one person is in power: There is one with the loaf and another hungrily following along.

Only a year before meeting my husband, I dated an older man recently out of a long marriage (before he got his pigtails). I found myself starving, desperately chasing after a fresh sourdough baguette of love only to scavenge for his stale crumbs left behind. The red flags were waving at every turn. He was still living with his ex and kids, and was completely honest from the get go he’d never have another family, but because he gave me a little bit of hope we could make it work, I ignored all the signs and went salivating after his loaf. Why would he introduce me to his kids if he didn’t, deep down, want me in his life? Why would he say he loved me if he could never commit? Why would he insist on coming to California to meet my family if he didn’t think they would be in his life for a while longer?

He should have ended it before I got attached; he should have been painfully honest before I thought there was hope. But he was like me, and I think you - human, hopeful, happy to have a good connection - so why make the hard decision of ending it when the easy choice of staying is there munching at your crumby heels? He should have left to save me the pain, but then again, so should have I. Finally, after a year to the date of dating, I realized our holding pattern would never shift unless I made the call. We broke up amicably, and a few months later, knowing exactly what I didn’t want, the one I did came walking up.

Power is a funny thing in a long term relationship. Sometimes after we get through the constant push and pull of dating, we settle with someone because it feels somewhat equal by comparison. But just as we change over the course of a relationship, the power dynamic can, too. It sounds like you broke the pattern of waiting for crumbs from your partner when you incited a real break. You had followed a path in the labyrinth for far too long and were sick of the twists and turns. You needed answers and you needed a break to see if things would change. So, have they? After three months apart he’s still playing the Will I?/Won’t I? game, and you’re still there for the show. At this point, can you even imagine a future with him?

Stop waiting for him to give you the cake and go take it yourself. You know the answer. This break is a break UP - it was when you made the decision and he did not, it was when you stopped the cycle he couldn’t bear to break. It was a breakup as soon as you took your power back and got up off the floor. YOU made the decision and YOU hold the bread. And now it’s time to run the fuck in the other direction and never look back (for at least a year).

He will never make the choice. He will never be all in. Yes, people can change, but you gave him that chance and he still didn’t fully commit. The first thing is always the last thing. And now it’s time to say goodbye and leave him behind, lost in his own labyrinth of indecision. Because, babe, you aren’t lost at all. You know what you want and you are ready to find it. And that’s the most powerful thing of all.

And while you shut the door for good - throwing away that couples therapy book (THAT IS NOT A BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR ANYONE!), beginning to create the future you know you want without him leading you in circles - consider throwing a lavish breadcrumb party with all your favorite friends. It’s a potluck and everyone needs to bring a dish that uses breadcrumbs in some way: casserole, meatballs, crumb cake, a thick-ass loaf of sourdough your friends all rip apart and devour with wine and cheese. This is your life, and you lead the way.

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BREADCRUMB PARTY

No one knows how to throw a dinner party like my friend Nell, so seeing as a breadcrumb party was her idea after a particularly gaslit relationship, here is a menu inspired by her great taste. If you are gluten-free you can take the breadcrumbs out but that would just be a party menu, and therefore, boring.

FIRST COURSE

Baked oysters with lemon, parsley and breadcrumbs

SECOND COURSE

Kale Caesar salad with lemony breadcrumbs

THIRD COURSE

Lemony chicken feta meatball soup

DESSERT

Plumb crumble (or any fresh fruit you have on hand)