Dealbreakers are heartbreaking. Having to end a relationship, a long, generally happy, overall good relationship in which you are otherwise compatible, otherwise perfect for one another, otherwise ready to compromise on all the things you have to compromise on when you’re in a relationship, having it all come down to a single sticking point on which neither of you want to budge, or maybe from which neither of you can budge. It seems like a terrible joke, a brutally unfair way for the world to be. It feels like a story with an unhappy endings, and we all know, instinctively, that stories with love in them should have happy endings.
Dealbreakers are rough, and they’re final. You don’t want to call something a dealbreaker, because that means everything has to change. You don’t want to call something a dealbreaker because that could be overstating things, it could be overreacting, why, things could totally get better! But some things need to be dealbreakers. Some things make me want to shake people and shout: If your sweetheart does not adore every inch of your body, from your hairy toes to your oily scalp, there’s a problem there. I want to say please, look at yourself and see how gorgeous you are. And now look at your sweetheart–do they know how gorgeous you are?
You deserve to say well, no, of course life isn’t perfect and sometimes
we’re tired and it’s been a long week and sometimes, someone is not in
the mood, but I deserve to be lusted after, desired, thought of as the
living embodiment of sexual healing. My body is worth your time and
attention, and my body is worth all the heartache to draw that line and
say no, this is what I need, and if I can’t get it here, this is where
I leave and everything hurts horribly, but what are you doing to
yourself, staying, slowly internalizing the idea that you’re not
desirable enough–when does it become the idea that you’re ugly, that
you’re broken, that if you looked like some imaginary ideal then maybe
things would be okay? It gets there eventually, and it is insidious and
it is so wrong.
Breakups suck. I’m willing to argue, though, that some things suck worse. What are your dealbreakers?