Heartbreak, Tequila, Stupidity, & More Tequila


WASSUP B*TCHES- ready to talk about my super unconventional way of coping with heartbreak.

I have googled millions of “getting past heartbreak” searches and even was so desperate at one point to hire a dating coach just to figure out what was wrong with me for becoming infatuated with men who lacked looks and personality. You can’t pay your rent and have f*cked up teeth, maybe even emotionally closed off? DO ME.

Let’s just say none of my dating education from google and anyomous coaches helped numb the heartbreak. I still was a psychotic b*tch storaging various tequila bottles in my room looking up his family history tree trying to find some closure.

There is something I learned along the way when it comes to experiencing heartbreak myself and watching my other friends go through it – there is no clean and proper way you can overcome it. At least for me, it was a raging caging sh*t show. Like how did I end up driving down his street four times hoping to get a glance at him riding in his truck? Did I really just pay $650 dollars for a dating expert to tell me that he was f*cked-up & not worth my time? Do I have to cry every time I watch romance movies? Who the f*ck am I turning into?

In hindsight, I have grown emotionally a LOT since the days of having no dating game and getting wet when a guy ghosts me for a week. BUT, it would still be emotionally hard if I broke up with my current significant other, who is sort of alright and texts me back (so progress)!

I figured it was time to take a break from my self-righteous rants and to show some vulnerability. There is so much dating advice on how to properly step by step get through a breakup. On a logical level, the advice sounds like a fantastic plan. BUT, that’s the sh*t part about heartbreaks in that they are all emotional. I am super logical, barely cry at all, hate hugging, would rather kill myself than display emotion, hate anything domestic, and probably should have been born with a penis :


Today I am putting myself out on the line and giving you the real, honest version of how I used to go through heartbreak.

(you’re welcome)


If only others knew how hardcore I can stalk someone during a heartbreak, I would have had a restraining order a LONG time ago. I mean “casually” eating at his favorite spots, driving past his work on a daily basis, scouting for his truck whenever I went anywhere public, getting gas near his house, and trying to “randomly” bump into him was practically my third job at the time. I really hated myself every time I finished stalking as much as someone gets that sinking gut feeling after hooking up with a sketchy dude. It’s not healthy, but felt right in the moment – is that how meth-heads feel?


Ok, we all know that everyone says that you should block your ex on social media because it will hurt too much to have a constant reminder that he is moving on with his life and potentially inside other vaginas. BUT, I f*cking thrived off refreshing his page OVER and OVER and OVER again. I really enjoyed the pain and crying myself to sleep with his facebook cover photo. I was way too prideful to text him for an update on his life so I resorted to stalking his posts since 2003.

The plus side of following each other on social media was that I could plan my feed to exactly replicate his “dream girl” and show him those erotic nipples he was missing in his life. I obsessed over creating the illusion that I love being single when in reality I was feeling that extra loneliness as I ate chipotle for dinner the fifth time that week. If I do say so myself, I was on point with my insta and facebook…even more than I am now. I would throw in some seductive selfies while balancing it out with a family photo then leading to a girl’s night out and then showing some skin of me stripper squatting in my workout video. All the captions screaming “SINGLE P*SSY”. I was great at hiding my pain and the fact that I would spend 5 hours in the shower hyperventalating to Adele.


Tequila – my go-to choice to this day. We have gone through a lot together and had some very ugly moments. I feel like heartbreak was the biggest excuse for me to get completely faded and then blame all my bad choices on the fact that I am trying to cope with “losing someone in my life”. I sure as hell wouldn’t act like this if my grandpa died, but jesus christ apparently some random guy I met six months ago would cause me to turn into a raging alcoholic. There were a lot of messy drunk moments and waking up hungover in the bathroom wondering how I got to this point in my life. How could someone ruin me to the point where I would be that person drinking alcohol in the backseat screaming to others how love isn’t real?! I practically had to get a new set of friends at that point.


Excuse me, but can I just throw up all my emotional issues on you? No? Ok, let me tell you. That’s the insane part about heartbreak – I couldn’t stop blabbering on about it. That is the one thing I respected about men, most are always great at not talking about their exes when they break-up. Yeah they are a little f*cking emo, but at least they aren’t breaking down to someone in line at the grocery store looking for clarification. I really had no idea how to stop asking everyone for advice more than once. No matter what they said, it never helped because no one could explain what went on in my ex’s head. F*ck, I don’t even know if God himself could figure it out either. A public apology to all people who were restrained to listen to my sob story.


They say that in order to get over someone you need to get under someone – is it ok if that is two weeks after the initial break-off? Girls, we like to complain that there is a lot of things that aren’t fair when you have a vagina. BUT, no man can ever get sex quicker than a single woman coming out of relationship. It’s like I didn’t even have to f*cking try at all. And even though it was sloppy sex and having to ask “is it in yet?”, there is still that initial pride that comes from sleeping with someone else. I wouldn’t get so crazy to say that I could get over someone by hooking-up, but it definitely gives me that feeling that my vagina isn’t completely doomed for being filled with cob webs.


That is the one positive amidst the rage and rejection that bottled up inside me when experiencing heartbreak, the opportunity to start over. After realizing that my future was no longer on the brink of becoming a mother and moving into a ghetto neighborhood (because that is what he could afford), I really had a lot going for me. The opportunities are endless when the bar was set that low (or there was no bar at all). There came that point where it scared the sh*t out of me that I was about to resort to popping kids out of my vagina and becoming domestic. I burn every meal I cook and can barely remember to lock the front door, those poor children living in the ghetto with a dysfunctional mom (sounds like a beginning to a rap song). As I kept climbing the corporate ladder and even in the very beginning stages of creating this blog, it was a clear indicator that he was crawling deeper and deeper beneath my level. I was given a clean slate and looking for older men that were NOT wanting kids and quite frankly never wanting to buy a family home. I don’t ask for much.


There eventually came a point where I would rather poke myself with something sharp in the a$$hole than sleep with he-who-must-not-be-named again. I don’t know about you, but I went through a phase were I slept with men who were beneath my level physically and emotionally. Call it daddy issues or a need for some serious therapy or all of the above, I was just really off my rocker to have had the willpower to last four hours with a make-out session when it felt like my face was being exfoliated by a bunch of thick facial hair and inhaling the smell of old sandwiches. I am super vain and work really f*cking hard on my physical appearance, it’s just shocking that didn’t relay over into my preference in men. Regardless, the phase of nausea and being too ashamed to show a photo of the guy did eventually happen.


We all know that not everyone makes it to this final stage. Either they hop into another relationship with practically the same person or are single with the idea that love is forever jaded. Somehow after months of personal development and dating books, I landed a somewhat healthy relationship with someone who can pay his rent and loves to call me a cunt (honesty is the best policy.). I should probably pat myself on the back or something for finding a human that I am compatible with. BUT, I survived heartbreak and if it happens again I am sure I will be a psychotic b*tch again trying to make sense of something that isn’t logical.

Did I miss anything?


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4 Responses
  • Karla
    December 6, 2017

    Oh my god, you kill me. The part about stuffing Chipotle (umm, me at lunch today!) and hyperventilating to Adele (ummm yesterday!) Fuck. I’m going through all this right now and have googled how to get over someone for like a week. This someone being my fucking personal trainer that I see 5 times a week! Seriously, kill me now. Sigh.

    • Savanna Barajas
      December 7, 2017

      Haha, I remember that all to well! It’s a shitty experience, but it gets better! <3

  • Marissa
    January 22, 2018

    I needed this today!

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