Graphic by Sebastiaan Chia
In recent weeks, I wrestled with what might be the worst breakup of my life thus far. It was quiet, slow and, worst of all, with someone I actually liked a lot. Without getting into the details, it can be described as ROUGH. Rough because, for the first time, I had a real, adult breakup. One with no anger or mistakes; just bad timing and mutual acceptance of an eminent closing.
Being an “adult” (even if said adult is only coming into their 20s) is a mix of grasping onto youth and conforming to adult expectations. I’ve recognized this in pretty much every facet of 20-something life, but I didn’t expect it in a breakup. “How am I supposed to grieve this?” I asked myself. Do I cry in the car, eat ice cream and have self-care sleepovers like I would in high school? Or do I read a book, drink a bottle of wine (no glass) and settle this inevitable heartache like a mature woman?
I chose the latter. I was never angry or upset with my ex-partner, so why would I act out? In an effort to avoid an emotional freak out, I suppressed every negative thought that had to do with my ex. After a whirlwind of self-help articles, mindfulness meditations and therapy sessions, I realized nothing about my attitude was changing. I remained as heartbroken as I was the day we decided to go separate ways. I was doing everything right, though! I was being the mature woman I thought would fix everything! Nothing made sense, and I spiraled further into breakup-induced depression.
“Hey you should really listen to that ‘SOUR’ album. Talk about crazy, but I think you’ll love it,” my dear friend jokingly recommended. We both giggled over the menial recommendation. Teen breakup music? Nice try, but no thanks. I’ve got this under control. Through my denial, a hint of desperation urged me to secretly queue up the album for my car ride home.
After saying my goodbyes, I jumped in my car and hit play on what would soon be my ticket to emotional catharsis. Olivia’s opening song, “brutal,” crackled through my ancient speakers.
“Damn, she’s mad!” was my immediate thought.
“Damn, I’m mad!” was the next one.
Although my anger had little to do with teenage angst and exploitation, headbanging to the emotionally raw music was helping. Yes, it felt silly, but, somewhere inside, a little pool of anger had been dried up. I was ready for the next song.
Listening to “SOUR” in the 30-minute drive that followed released feelings I had been attempting to suppress because it was the “mature” thing to do. The crying, screaming and cursing flooded from my mouth, eyes (and nose, grossly) as I listened to a girl go through her teenage heartache in full force.
When I pulled up to my apartment, the final notes of “hope ur ok” rolled through my car speakers. Mascara-streaked, red-faced me sat back in my seat, and I felt a strange release. Strange because I felt better for the first time since before my relationship ended. Why did this happen? Why did an album targeted at young heartbreak unlock my prolific healing?
“SOUR” taught me that the big emotions packaged with a breakup never truly “mature” with you. The anger, sadness, confusion and hope for a happier day remain youthful, vulnerable and wildly intense. Whether I experience a breakup in my 20s or my 50s, the grief will still be grief like that of a younger me, and that’s not a bad thing.
Today, I still listen to “SOUR.” Sure, I do a LOT less crying when I hear songs like “good for you” and “deja vu” (my favorites), but the quiet reminder that I felt my way out of heartache still lingers with every note. Maybe you need an album like “SOUR” right now, or maybe you don’t!
There is not a right way to grieve a relationship, but there are lots of practices that make the experience worse. All I ask is that you find music that allows you to feel in the most authentic way possible. A cathartic car ride might just be your next step toward healing.
My breakup song recommendations
For emotional car rides ONLY
- “deja vu” by Olivia Rodrigo
- “Nothing/Sad N Stuff” by Lizzy McAlpine
- “Mean Something” by Miel
- “Waiting Room” by Phoebe Bridgers
- “Nobody” by Mitski
- “Irish Exit” by Eliza McLamb
- “Like the Movies” by Laufey
- “Half of Me” by Faye Webster
- “Power On” by James Blake
- “Christine” by Lucy Dacus
Mmmm… good soup. Genuinely though, I loved how this piece emphasizes that emotions sometimes aren’t mature things and that they just need to be released with loud singing and swells of tears. Sometimes the most mature thing you can do is feel your feelings fool! Thank you for writing this piece <3
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