Dear Breakup Girl,

Okay, Breakup Girl, this is my first letter asking advice EVER to anyone about all of this, so… well, I hope you have time to read a long one. If not, toss me.

I’m a 17 year old guy. I’m too skinny, I’ve got acne, but I’m a great friend with an irresistible sense of humor (or so I’ve been told). Oh, and I’ve had a stellar love life, absolutely wonderful! NOT. My last relationship crashed and burned. On the SIX MONTH ANNIVERSARY, to the day, because things weren’t going anywhere and we were getting frustrated with each other. And the three girlfriends I had before that ended when (in chronological order):

1) She lied to me about loving someone else, thus being unable to continue going out with me. (Fortunately, we had only been going out for, oh, 4 hours, just long enough for her to realize I had never had a girlfriend before and had no idea she was coming on to me. This one later turned psycho-slutty, having sex with anything that breathed, including ME, offering phone and oral sex with me as late as a year after. She also tried to break my best friend and his girlfriend up… sick-o.)

2) She went out with me for six days, kissed me, then refused to talk to me — forever. No reason at all, except one I heard that went through three people that went, “She gets bored with guys quickly.” Ne’er heard word from her since.

3) She left. I fell for a girl on the second to last day of a summer camp. She lives about 120 miles away part-time (and over 400 the other part) because of her split parents. Saddest thing about this one was that it was the best time out of all four girlfriends I’ve had… I haven’t heard from her since, and my letters don’t come back with “Address unknown” or anything on them.

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The Predicament of the Week from September 21, 1998…

Readers will recall that Brad’s original predicament vaulted into Of the Week status the moment he recounted that the girl who wanted to hang out, hold hands, snuggle — and just be friends — went so far as to bake him a cake.(Thus serving up, for Brad, immense confusion, and for Breakup Girl, a veritable dessert tray of metaphors.). A week later, the frosting thickened, and our man B. got in trouble for being nice-guy-shoulder/pastry-chef — not, say, Boyfriend — for the women he desired. His unrequited cooky-baking had begun to take a toll-house on his will to love. THEN, Brad came back for BG-record-setting thirds, prompting a rather sugar-free response.

But now, at long last, Brad tests — and shares — a new recipe for romance!

Dear Breakup Girl,

Hello. Again. It’s me, and first off I would like to thank you very, very much for listening to me ramble and rant and cry and weep and moan and groan and bitch and scream “Oh my God, why me, why ME?” three times now. I promise you, if this was going to be another one of those letters, I wouldn’t be writing it. Instead, I would probably be off in the corner weeping softly to myself with my head tucked between my knees listening to Jewel or Amanda Marshall.

First off — Lynore.

I walked out to my car early one morning to go pay my tuition fees and as I got into the car, I noticed a note on my windshield. It was from Lynore, and it said the following:

“Brad — I miss you! I know (so do you) that I’ll NEVER call, but I really want to see you. I work at Rising High after 5 PM most weekdays and my phone number is xxx-xxxx. Don’t be a stranger! Love, Lynore.”

What would a sane person do? Well, I don’t know, but I fought with myself for a week and finally said ,”Let’s go see her.” Long story short, she hasn’t changed one bit. Five minutes into our conversation she made it clear that she wanted my pity (her boyfriend? That moved to Florida? Whose family she’s living with? He destroyed her self-esteem.) and she asked if I thought she looked okay. She said that she still loved the guy, whatever, blah blah blah, and that she just wanted to see me because I was such an understanding person, and that she needed someone to cry to. Okay, so am I wrong in translating this as “I want to use you as a doormat?” No thanks, Lynore. In fact, I’d just had another girl call me up after not speaking to me for two weeks. Why? Boyfriend problems. I finally just told her (let’s call her Janet) “Janet, look. If you really want to be my friend, call me on occassions other than those during which you’re sad or depressed, okay? Thanks.” She got really angry and hung up on me. No word from her since.

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Getting ugly on September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I am 22 years old and never had a relationship. Every guy I met has used me for money and sex. I have always been so nice and caring, the most sweetest person to men, even helping them out financially when they need it. (I don’t want to get into the amount of money I gave men, because you probably will be shocked.) From the age of 17, I started sleeping with men just for the hopes of a relationship, so they’d like me, etc., plus they told me all the things I wanted to hear. Me being very shy and unattractive, I would become very happy from hearing a compliment. I also learned that if I said no to sex, the guy would leave and I’d never see him again. However, last year one guy did not accept “no” and I was raped. The whole court ordeal lasted one year and I was not able to date anyone. Yes, I did go to rape therapy for that year. It helped, because I still didn’t give up on men after that. I basically just dealt with it and accepted it. When I was finally able to start seeing men again, my friend hooked me up with this guy. It took me a while to trust him, but finally I did and I slept with him (which was a pretty big step for me at this point). Of course, he didn’t want to be my boyfriend, but to me that was “normal.” I just blamed it on my looks. I found out he was married. This devastated me because again, I trusted someone and shame on me. I think I have heard all the lines by now. I saw another guy for two weeks right after the married one, but he didn’t want to be my boyfriend either, even though I spent every day with him. I took care of him when he was sick in bed for several days. I gave him rides all the time in my car. He told me he loved me, even though sometimes he put me down about my weight and how I looked. But I never slept with him, so he ended up leaving me. He got in a relationship with some one else within a matter of days. I could go on and on about the many other guys I’ve tried to be with, but I’ll spare you the misery. They all have practically the same scenario, same ending. I really feel that all I am good enough for is sex and my money. It hurts to think that all I did for each guy didn’t mean nothing to them. Sometimes it hurts to look in the mirror. Please help me.

–Melanie

BG’s advice after the jump!

A sad ending on September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I am, I think, as of today, finally extricating myself from a relationship that was horrible and sad, from a man I love(d) with all my heart. I feel so awful, looking around the house we just moved into, and seeing our whole life that we had built together (hanging pictures, watering the plants, meals together, etc.), and I feel like I’ve wasted so much time and tried so hard, for a man who, ultimately, was so wrong for me. I feel guilty for letting my elation and infatuation get in the way of all the alarms in my head at the beginning, and postponing the end for years(!) until we do nothing but hurt each other, and still know we love each other. Although the insurmountable reason I’m giving up is that he’s attached to another woman and can’t/won’t let go, I realize our problems were so big that she is really just the catalyst.

I’m an intelligent woman– I pride myself on being positive and optimistic– do I have to become cynical and build the walls I hate in others to someday achieve a healthy relationship? Or, will I just punish the next guys for what I’ve been through with my past relationships? AND! How does anyone ever really know someone is right for them? It seems like everyone puts their “best foot forward” and then after I’m already sucked in I find out things that would have eliminated them at the start, but by the time the “bad stuff” is evident, I’m already in love and want to try to make it work!

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Better off on September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Im 13 and probably about 10 pounds over weight. I was going out with this guy when i gained the weight, than he dumped me because he said I was too fat! But like the next week he started dating this other girl who (no offense) is a lot “bigger” than me. So when ( and if ) i lose the weight should I try to make up with him or just drop it?

— A Little Over the Top

Dear Little,

Drop it. The boy, not the weight.

Love,
Breakup Girl

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It’s that time. Time to make New Year’s Resolutions. Or, at least, to defensively justify not making New Year’s Resolutions.

“Me? Oh, no, I don’t make resolutions,” you tell the friend who’s writing a VRML-based application to track his 1999 progress toward the ideal body fat/muscle mass ratio. “I don’t think it’s right to force or cause with some sort of official pronouncement something as magical and mysterious and ‘just happens’ as Finding a Life Partner,” you say to … Breakup Mom. “Experts say that expecting instant results often leads to discouragement and feelings of failure,” you inform the friend who’s rejiggering her Quicken to automatically funnel 10% of her 1999 income into a new Roth IRA.

Well, you’re right. Experts do say that. According to Dr. Domeena Renshaw, a professor of psychiatry at Loyola University Medical Center in Chicago, 50 percent of American adults make New Year’s resolutions. Approximately 38 percent are still committed to change after seven days, but that number dwindles to less than 15 percent after six months.

Our resolve, it seems, is about as firm as the slush on the stoop. Why the thaw?

“A common mistake people make when they proclaim a resolution is to anticipate immediate gratification,” says Dr. Renshaw. “Individuals must recognize that change is slow and requires dedication.”

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. But I think I’ve come up with the real reason why New Year’s Resolutions are doomed from the start.

It’s all in the timing.

Well, sure. When are we supposed to come up with do-good, feel-good, be-good, eat-good, make-that-change vows for the next year? Right at the time of year when we’re subsisting on rum balls and whole milk with raw eggs, watching the salt erode our new Manolos, measuring love in square feet of wrapping paper, never getting around to writing that holiday form letter, and living on the lam from Diners’ Club bounty hunters.

Not, shall we say, a very empowered place to be when attempting to make life-changing resolutions.

So here’s what I think we should do: make New Year’s Resolutions in the fall — like, say, around the Jewish New Year, or around the autumnal equinox (which, before the Georgian calendar messed everyone up, was when the Assyrians, Egyptians, Phoenicians, and Persians sang Auld Lang Syne). That’s when everyone’s actually feeling pretty jaunty, right? The weather’s no longer sweltering, apples make great snacks, new classes mean new crushes, we’re finally about to find out how on earth Mulder and Scully are going to get out of this one, and, everywhere you look, there are adorable little gourds and excellent sales on school supplies.

Now that’s a good time to make some serious plans.

So I’m off the hook for now. But it never hurts to plan ahead — so, while we’re on the subject, here’s how BG will pave the road to hell, come fall.

• I resolve never to call a guy to tell him I’m not talking to him.
• I resolve never to hook up with anyone whom I will later identify not by name, but by some other characteristic (eg “Renaissance Faire Man”).
• I will go to the trouble of making risotto only for suitors who can distinguish it from “rice.”
• I resolve that all gifts will reflect his taste, not my agenda, even though there’s a dope new DVD version of The Beauty Myth.
• Resolved: I’m way too old to leave my contacts in shot glasses on someone’s speakers.
• If I call a guy and he does not call me back, I resolve never, ever, EVER to wonder if I should have followedThe Rules.
• God grant me the serenity to accept the fact that a decent latte will cost me $4.
• I will recalibrate my standards. Note to self: “He’s … normal!” is a given, not a plus.
• This will be the year that I use The Pill to control birth, not zits.

While I’m at it, here are some resolutions CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE need to make: (more…)

Sorting it out on September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I have been with my boy for 2 years and I really love him. We were supposed to get married this year, but decided we were perhaps pushing things a little too far too fast and postponed the date to an as-yet-undecided future day. We both want this relationship to work but to do so, I feel we need to resolve a huge problem that is overshadowing us:

I don’t like to be physical with him very much anymore.

I was sexually abused when I was very young and I know this impacts me in some way(s) every single day, though how it manifests itself in my day-to-day life, I am never sure. I have never tried to block the abuse from my life, to ignore it or pretend it never happened. Nor have I ever tried to use it as an excuse or a part of a poor-me martyrdom act.

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Going on strike, September 7, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Once again–congrats on the wonderful website.

One of my closest friends has been living with a guy for several years. I don’t care for him, but I figure, if a friend’s boyfriend treats her well, that’s all that should matter to others. Problem is, he doesn’t, at least not in the following regard. I wouldn’t call him abusive, but he’s often verbally nasty to her in public. I’ve mentioned to her that it’s not a pleasure to watch him do his number, but my friend has a bit of a doormat problem. I want to say something to him when he starts in, but he’s very aggressive and I’d rather not have a bad fight. Any thoughts on how to say it in a way that gets the point across without things turning into a scene? Thanks.

— Unsure

Dear Unsure,

BOYcott. Tell her you’ll hang out with her, but not with the two of them, and tell her why. That way you get to keep your friend — and make your point.

BG thanks you for asking an excellent question. And so, I hope, will your friend.

Love,
Breakup Girl

MSN.com, Match.com, HappenMagazine.com: they’re in a healthy and satisfying 3-way relationship. Meaning that you can find MSN/Match.com’s “Ask Lynn” columns –penned by BG’s alter ego — over at Happen now as well.

This week Lynn counsels a girl who swears she’s Just Buddies with her guy friends but worries about cheating

I have a few male friends that I talk to once every three to six months or sometimes longer. They suggest that we hang out sometimes, and they know that I am in a serious relationship. I feel like I will be somewhat cheating if I hang out with a male friend.

Is she over thinking things? Should she let these guys go? Read the full letter and Lynn’s response at Happen Magazine, then come back here to comment below.

Wrapping it up on December 14, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

Oh my GOSH. Your letter from Moogirl made me SOOO mad. You know — the girlie whose boyfriend was getting her lame presents? Listen — let me tell you why, and maybe you can give me some advice about the situation, yah?

I’ve been with my boyfriend for two years, and we’ve lived together for one of those years (actually a little more than that now). Anyfoo, we’re very happy. I love him, he loves me, we get along wonderfully, blah blah blah.

The problem is – he has let my birthday pass by twice with little or no fanfare.. and absolutely NO GIFT! The first time, he asked me a few times what I wanted for my birthday, and I hinted towards a few things, and made oh-so obvious hints when we went anywhere together like “OOOH! Look at that Sweater Set! I hope someone buys that for me for my birthday!” or “Wow! Look at that necklace.. my dad got one just like that for my mom’s birthday one year, she loved it, it was so pretty, I remember wishing I’d have a guy who would do something like THAT for me someday.. you know, with a necklace like THAT.. you know, THAT one.” I’m not kidding, BG, I was that obvious (That is obvious, right?).

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