The question isn’t what are you supposed to do, but what do you want to do. Short of lying prostrate in his doorway, almost anything goes. Most of the women we spoke to said that they found the greatest comfort in talking to friends. One twenty five-year-old respondent didn‘t even draw the line at friends. “I talked about it constantly to anyone who would listen,” she said. “I particularly sought out people who would tell me what I wanted to hear. I loved to hear stories about couples who broke up and then got back together. Strangers, friends of friends, would call me up and say, ‘I hear you want to hear stories about reunited couples.’ “Experts agree that women‘s propensity to create support systems for themselves is nothing but healthy. “Friends keep you from miring deeper and deeper in your imagination,” says Dr. Barbach. “They can help put a cap on obsessions and keep you grounded. They also serve as mirrors to your own thoughts.” Plus, they lend you clothes and buy you beers. We’ll drink to that.
About three-quarters of our women also found comfort in going out. One thirty-one-year-old told us, “I went out every night —I couldn’t bear to be alone in the apartment we had once shared. I also heard from our mutual friends that my ex was going out all the time to bars, clubs, on dates. That made me so upset, I felt like I had to keep up.” Many of these women chose to rally with male friends. They found that it helped to have platonic male companionship (not to mention a steady, nonpressure date for parties) and that by going out, they could distract themselves and ultimately come home tired enough to fall asleep. All in all, painting the town red seemed to be a popular escape.
Some women, however, preferred to remain in their blue period for a little longer. One twenty-nine-year-old ad exec sat at home and “wrote letters to people, made phone calls. I tried to keep my act together. But it was all I could do to go to work. I definitely didn‘t want to go out; my apartment was my sanctuary. I’d have friends over sometimes, but I wanted to stay home where I felt safe.” Another woman, a thirty-one year-old accountant, stayed home “for about six months. I didn‘t want to see other people; I couldn’t be nice to any guys. I was also afraid to leave in case that would be the night that he called and begged me to come back.” Many of our homealoners made an exception for movies. “I went by myself,” said one. “It was an escape for me. I didn‘t have to make chitchat or get dressed up; I could plunge into an alternate reality and get out of myself for a couple of hours.”
As always, the choice is yours. What’s good for the gander isn’t always good for the other gander. So if you want to romp, romp wisely and carry a big condom. If you need a vacation from the world, take one. If you want to have company, don’t be too proud to ask for it. If you want to be alone, tell people to get lost. It’s your ball game—you make the call.
