ASK LUCY: I need to get over my ex. Help.


Dear Lucy,
My boyfriend and I just broke up, and I’m sad. I have to confess, when I say ‘just’ – I mean about 3 months ago.

I’m not okay with this, for 2 reasons:

  1. Being sad is not me.
  2. I’m sick of feeling like shit – it’s been 3 months already, fuck.

Help me get over my ex-beau, the Berlin winter is depressing enough.


Dear Miann,

There is actually nothing more annoying than not being able to get over a dude, especially if you don’t do depressive emotions on the regular. I think one of the worst things about being totally heartbroken is having people tell you to “Just get over it.” “Move on.” or “You are creative, you’ll work something out” (that was real life advice I’ve received…How to be a dick 101, that.)

Telling someone to simply get over it without offering any semblance of a solution is like saying “That’s a shit idea.” and then the tumbleweeds roll on by. The very base of giving advice is just that, you give advice. So, for someone to say – “Get over it.” an adequate response would be: “Fuck you.” A better way to handle it (as a mate): “You need to get over this, and under someone else. Immediately.” Understandably, that advice is not for everyone – but I feel it illustrates my point pretty well.

My go-to’s of how to get over the male species is as follows. I hope it’s at least semi-helpful.

You can’t be having social media updates from the recently (emotionally) deceased. Maybe it’s a bit insane – I don’t know. Maybe people are better with their feelings than I am. But it’s like that falling tree question – if you can’t hear/see it, does it really exist? In this instance – it doesn’t.

If you are a drunk texter, this might be a necessary step. I generally do this so I’m not tempted, and try to remember the last 4 digits. That way IF they message or call, you aren’t all “Umm – who is this..?” If you don’t need to delete the number, you’re probably much better off than you think you are.

What I have learnt over the years is the first thing you want to listen to is sad music (think Bat For Lashes – Laura). This is in fact the worst thing on planet earth to listen to. I would highly recommend M83’s last album or something from when you were an adolesent. M83 because it makes you feel like you could just about fly, and that is a good feeling. Music from your teen years because it makes you realise how daft you’re being. Fuck-that-guy, I’m a grown up and all that.

UGH, I hate exercise. But I feel like the most ideal human after I go for a run. So get the fuck out of bed – run for 20 minutes. And practically high kick your way to work with all those endorphins.

The is pretty much my answer to everything; the only time this won’t cure you, is if that random stranger is a terrible kisser. Chances are – if you are over the age of 22 – new fellas you suck face with are going to be good kissers, with pillow lips. They will not be scared to lightly touch your face, bite your lip, or make you feel wanted. Even if it is only temporary – it cures all wounds.

Everyone is different, no-one is going to be as good . However, that dude you locked lips with on Saturday, might be a better kisser. And the guy from the week before was probably a more interesting conversationalist. If you write them off before you have a go – you are the only person losing out here. Get around the differences. This is about your right to try before you buy.

You might think that joining a dating site will solve all your problems. It won’t. The thing about dating sites is – you go out with a lot of dick heads, who all want a +1. So, with all that wanting of +1’s, wanting a replacement ex, wanting the dick heads off OK Cupid to not actually be dick heads – you are going to start wondering if you are the thing falling short in this equation. You aren’t. Dating sites are retarded.

In every way shape or form this is a BAD idea. Do you know how you kill a plant? No oxygen (and water, obviously). Do you know how you kill an ex-boyfriend? No oxygen (and also water, but you can’t manage their nutrients). The less oxygen you give them by not talking about them, the less they are. And then poof – they are dead, in the not actually dead way (NOTES: don’t starve or smother an ex-boyfriend, this is actually murder).

If all of this fails – move to a new country, learn a new language, find different friends and in 6 months send old mate a photo of you looking awesome, on the back of some babes moped – giving the finger. There is nothing sweeter than moving on to bigger and brighter things.

Now, quickly! Go find bigger and brighter – they’re probably located in your local bar.

Love Lucy

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About LUCY

Femme of sass, sometimes.