Her Story, His Story, and the Truth About Breakups

by Satish Krishnamurthy

Today was one of those days—I was asked for breakup advice not once, but twice. Funny thing about breakups: no two are the same. Every relationship has its own unique story, its own set of circumstances, and two very different people navigating their emotions. And truthfully? I’m not in the relationship, so I can’t pretend to understand both sides. But what I can speak to is what comes after—the recovery.

For me, heartbreak looks like sad love songs, a bottle of wine, and lying on the couch in my favorite old sweatshirt. It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest. You’ve got to let the tears fall. You’ve got to sit with your pain before you can begin to let it go. Healing is a process, and it’s not meant to be pretty.

The most important step is this: get back to yourself. Before the relationship, you were whole. You had your own rhythm, your own joy, your own identity. Then, love comes along—and you start sharing your world with someone else. It’s easy to lose sight of where you end and they begin. But when it’s over, the best thing you can do is come home to yourself.

That doesn’t mean sleeping around or drinking to forget. That’s not healing—that’s numbing. Feel the pain. Get uncomfortable. Figure out who you are after the breakup. Decide who you want to become on the other side of this.

Because here’s the truth: trying to understand why someone left might drive you crazy. There’s always more than one version of the story—your side, their side, and somewhere in between… the truth. The real question is: what story are you going to tell yourself going forward?

Everyone will have advice. Some of it will be helpful. A lot of it won’t. But in the end, your heart is the one you have to live with. So listen to it. Let it speak. Let it guide you home.

AOL Chat Rooms and My Prom Date

Recently, I read an article about two dating gurus who met on Twitter and are now engaged. The woman mentioned she'd been dating online since she was 19—and I couldn’t help but smile. That number sounded familiar. Why? Because I started dating online at 17.

Yes, folks—that’s nearly 12 years of online dating before the Comedian and I made it official.
Back in the good ol' days of AOL chat rooms, dial-up tones, and screen names like ValenLatina, I was a curious, lovestruck teenager looking for connection in the most 2000s way possible.

The story starts with prom.

I had asked an old coworker I was crushing on to be my date. He said yes. I was thrilled. But I was also 17 and had yet to learn the lesson that confirming plans matters. Weeks went by with no follow-up, and when I finally got a hold of him—cue heartbreak—he had totally forgotten. He apologized and said he had to work.

I was devastated. This was senior prom. A rite of passage. And in my teen mind, the world had officially ended.

Naturally, I turned to the only place I knew for comfort: the AOL Orlando chat room.

After the obligatory “a/s/l?” intros, I started chatting. "Hey ValenLatina!" messages came flooding in. And then one conversation stuck.
He was a nice guy, about an hour away, and he patiently listened to my teenage sob story: dumped by a flaky prom date and scrambling for a plan B. After some back and forth, he said:

“I’ll take you to your prom.”

I couldn’t believe it. I had a date! But of course, I had to meet him first.

We decided on Old Town—if you're from the Kissimmee/Orlando area, you know that place.
We walked, we talked, and honestly… he was polite and sweet. Not quite fireworks, but hey, my online dating adventure had officially begun.

Prom came and went. He wasn’t really my type (and I was definitely not feeling a love story unfolding), but he showed up when I needed a date—and that mattered. My mom thought he was cute, which was... a bonus for her, I guess. 😅

That night didn’t end with a fairytale romance, but it did start my digital dating journey.
And I wouldn’t change a thing—well, maybe just my prom hair. That was a whole other tragedy.

The Friend Zone

Sometimes, I get calls from my guy friends—the ones who are still single—asking the same question over and over:
“How did I end up in the friend zone?”

It’s the one struggle they just can’t seem to shake. And I get it. It stings. It’s frustrating. It’s confusing.
But here’s the truth I always tell them: a woman usually knows what she wants within the first 30 seconds of meeting you. She may change her mind later, sure. You may grow on her. But let’s be honest—that’s the exception, not the rule.

The biggest trap of the friend zone is when the guy becomes infatuated with the idea of the woman. Suddenly, she’s not just a friend—she’s the one. The fantasy grows: “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
But most of the time, she won’t.

And yet, my sweet, hopeful, slightly masochistic guy friends cling to the dream. They convince themselves that one day, their dream girl will wake up and realize it’s been them all along.

Listen—I’m spiritual, yes. I believe in timing, energy, divine intervention. But I’m also a realist.
When the right person comes into your life, you will know. It won’t be a tug-of-war. It won’t leave you guessing. It will just feel… right. And if it doesn’t feel that way? Don’t force it.

Here’s a hard truth:
A lot of people who end up in the friend zone have a common trait—they’re too scared to make a move. They wait. They stay silent. They play it safe. But here’s the thing: most women want a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. A man with confidence. A man who leads.

And if you do walk away from the “friendship” and they come back? That’s your moment to take control of the narrative. Let them know where you stand. That you’re looking for something real. If they can’t give that to you, let them go—without resentment, without bitterness. On your terms.

You’ve probably heard the adage:

“If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it’s yours.”

But here’s the part people forget: don’t lose yourself waiting for something that may never return.

There’s one particular person I’m thinking of while writing this, and it breaks my heart to see people I care about in pain over someone who doesn’t reciprocate. I know it’s hard. I know it feels cruel. But if someone is dragging you along while reaping the benefits of your emotional labor, that’s not love—it’s manipulation.

And honestly? That kind of connection becomes a slow poison. It erodes your self-worth.
Let. It. Go.

I’ve done it. I’ve cut the chord. And guess what? I’m still standing—and so much happier for it.

Women (and men, for that matter) don’t always know what they want until it’s right in front of them. But that doesn’t mean it’s your job to wait around just in case they figure it out. Especially when feelings are involved—someone always gets hurt.

So here’s my advice:
Walk away. Reconnect with friends who see you just as you are. Invest in yourself. Live your life fully. Because when the right person comes along, it will feel different. You won’t have to beg or prove your worth.

You are not a backup plan.
You are not someone’s “maybe.”
You are not meant to sit on the sidelines of your own love story.

Only you are responsible for your happiness.
So if you’re stuck in a cycle that’s driving you nuts, it’s time to choose you.

No more salt on open wounds. Heal. And move forward.

You're in Charge of Your Love Life

A comment was made to me recently that stirred up some emotions I hadn’t encountered in a while. I won’t repeat it—it’s not worth incriminating anyone—but it made me reflect on my dating journey.

I’ve told several people in my life how grateful I am to have met someone truly special at 30. Honestly, if I had settled down with the first person I fell in love with, I’d probably be unhappy now. If you’ve followed my blogs, you know I’ve met all kinds of men—each one teaching me something about what I truly want and need in a partner.

Call me naïve, but I genuinely believe that being single as long as I was prepared me to fully appreciate the Comedian. Sometimes, it feels like serendipity. I gave a few men second chances—trying to let go of the superficial standards I had in my early 20s—but those experiences flopped. And just when I gave up, shifted my focus, and stopped chasing... he appeared. Out of nowhere. Like God had been preparing me for him all along.

I don’t believe in a perfect person, but I do believe there’s a perfect person for me. And that’s what really matters.

That comment—the one that hit a nerve—reminded me that I do know what I have, and I am lucky. But more importantly, it reminded me how essential it is to know yourself. Know your wants. Your needs. Your limits. Your growth edges. No one else can define your destiny except you.

I recently rewatched The Wedding Date, and one quote hit me:

“Every woman has the exact love life she wants.”

At first, I bristled. But then I thought about it more. There’s a reason we date certain people, even the wrong ones. My advice? Get curious about those patterns. Dig deep. Ask yourself: What am I looking for? What am I avoiding? What am I attracting, and why?

Because once you know those answers, your love life starts aligning with your actual desires—not just your fears or habits. And that’s when the real magic begins.

You’re in charge of your love life. Always.

Is Rejection Worth the Risk?

bar-scene-07

I realized I haven’t posted in a while—but I promise to add new content more regularly this coming year. I’ll be starting my MBA in January, but you know what? Challenge accepted.

For whatever reason, I find it fascinating when the Comedian gives dating advice to his younger cousins. It’s not that what he says isn’t valid—it’s that it all makes complete sense. It’s like a window into the male brain. Since we met online, he never had to hit on me at a bar or throw out some cringey pickup line. But hearing his perspective still gives me a deeper understanding of the dating world from the other side.

I’ve spent years being single, dating, observing, laughing (sometimes crying) through it all—and I’ve definitely formed my own theories. For example: I’ve learned to smile when I want someone to come over. To laugh at their jokes (even if they’re bad). And I’ve come to admire what men deal with when it comes to rejection. Society often expects them to take charge, to initiate, to risk the “no.” Women have gotten bolder over the years—thankfully—but I’ll admit: when I’ve taken the lead, I’ve sometimes felt out of place. Too forward. Too masculine.

And let’s be honest: when I’ve approached a guy, about 75% of the time, I’ve been rejected. But when someone approaches me? There’s a 90% success rate for at least a decent conversation.

Now, I’m not saying don’t shoot your shot—by all means, do what works for you. I’ve just learned that for me, it’s more effective to make space for the connection to happen rather than force it. I also try to make the conversation about the other person, not me. The more I know about someone, the easier it is to see if we’re aligned. But again—that’s what works for me.

I said something the other day that felt like the most “me” metaphor possible:

“Dating is like math—there are different ways to get to the answer, but all that matters is you have the correct answer in the end.”

No matter who you are, there’s always a risk of rejection. But don’t let that stop you. There really are plenty of fish in the sea. And if someone doesn’t feel it, that just means they’re not your person.

My best friend once told me something I’ll never forget:

“If he doesn’t get your jokes, he’s not for you.”

And she was right. I have a unique sense of humor—equal parts dry, nerdy, and corny. I needed someone who would laugh with me or at least laugh because I’m laughing. Thankfully, the Comedian gets my jokes. Or at least pretends to, which is almost better.

So here’s my point: if you never take the chance, you’ll never know the outcome. Go for it. Risk the “no.” Because the worst that could happen? She says it. And you go on with your day. But the best that could happen? You find someone who laughs at your jokes—and gets you.

And that’s always worth the risk.

No One Likes the Same Flavor of Ice Cream

ice cream cones

In the mornings, I like to indulge in a little talk radio. I know it’s not the healthiest habit, but there’s something comforting about listening to other people ramble about their opinions—until the topic turns shallow. That’s when I quickly changed the station to something with no talking, just good music.

The other day, though, one segment really got to me. The hosts were discussing whether people get upset when they spend time getting ready—hair, makeup, outfit—and no one compliments them. Honestly, it made me a little sad. Not because of the topic itself, but because it showed how many people rely on validation from others to feel beautiful.

I might sound judgmental saying this, but really—who cares?! Beauty comes from the inside. I’ve learned over the years that when I exude confidence and feel beautiful, others notice naturally. Growing up, my younger sister and I couldn’t have been more different. She was thin, popular, the one everyone noticed. I was awkward, insecure, and unsure of myself for most of middle and high school. She made it a bit of a competition to have all the boys like her, and for a long time, I felt invisible.

Then, one day—someone liked me instead of her. Shocking, right?

But here’s the thing: it didn’t really matter. Because I came to understand something powerful—the same guys who liked her weren’t going to be into me, and that’s okay. We were different. We are different. Different styles, different personalities, different everything.

And that’s where my favorite analogy comes in:

"No one likes the same flavor of ice cream. They just might not like my flavor."

That doesn’t make my flavor any less awesome.

What bothered me about that radio topic was the way it justified insecurity. Like if you spend two hours getting ready, it only matters if someone notices. But the truth is—do it for you. Get dressed up, take time for yourself, wear the thing that makes you feel like magic. That glow? That’s yours. And you don’t need applause for it to matter.

There’s a saying:
"Dress for the job you want."

But I’d argue—dress for the life you want. Show up for yourself in a way that reflects how you want to feel. Beautiful. Confident. Whole.

You don’t need everyone to like your flavor.
Just make sure you do.

The Next Step

It’s been 10 blissful months with the love of my life—The Comedian.
I might get a little sappy in this post, but I promise there’s a point.

We’re taking the next big step: moving in together.
On Sunday, we picked up the keys to our new apartment—our names side by side on the lease. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it represents something huge. Any step with another person deserves thought and care—but sometimes, you just know it’s right.

At his cousin’s birthday party on Saturday night, The Comedian shared something that melted me. His cousin had asked, “This is a big step—are you ready?” And without hesitation (at least in the version I play in my head), he replied:

“When you know it’s the right person, it’s not such a big step. It’s just what’s supposed to happen.”

Cue the internal cartwheels.

That moment stuck with me—not just because it made me swoon, but because it’s true.
We live in a world saturated by reality TV drama and toxic relationships, so we start believing that love is supposed to be hard. But it doesn’t have to be. Peaceful, steady love is a thing—and I’m living proof.

Before dating The Comedian, a friend once told me, “When you know, you know.”
I didn’t fully understand it back then. But now? I get it. There’s something so sacred about feeling at ease with your partner. In past relationships, I’d find myself worrying:
Do I need to babysit him at social events?
Will he embarrass me in front of friends?
Am I going to be the one carrying all the weight?

With The Comedian, none of that crosses my mind. He shows up. He respects me. He sees me.

He’s taught me what it means to be treated the way a woman deserves to be treated.
With kindness. With presence. With peace.

So here’s what I’ll leave you with:
Don’t settle for chaos. Don’t make excuses for someone else’s bad behavior.
Your partner should feel like your safe space—not your stressor.

In my case, he’s my partner in peace. 💛

6 Points of Love in the Beginning

dinner-date

I’ve been doing some reading today and it sparked a few thoughts about love and relationships. I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs, but through it all, I’ve realized how precious life—and love—really is. Below are six lessons I’ve picked up along the way, both before and during my current relationship. Themes I’ve revisited in past blogs, but somehow they still feel just as fresh.

1. Love Comes When You Least Expect It

This one is so real. Every relationship I’ve had showed up when I wasn’t even looking. And when I did try to chase it down, it usually ended in me questioning my own worth. The love I’m in now? Completely unexpected—and completely right. It’s funny how sometimes you leave an imprint on someone’s heart and they circle back when they realize how special that was.

2. Be Patient

I’ve wrestled with abandonment issues for a long time. The anxiety of waiting on a reply or wondering where someone is used to eat me up. Like many women, I overanalyzed and panicked—even when the guy was just taking a nap. With time, I learned to sit with those feelings, understand them, and not let them take over. Insecurity is loud. But confidence in your own growth? That’s peace.

3. Stay Busy

I can’t say this enough—don’t lose yourself in someone else. Keep your life full. Nurture your friendships. Pick up a hobby (writing’s been mine). In the early days of a relationship, it's so easy to fall into "let’s spend every second together" mode. But if you keep doing you, it makes integrating your partner into your life that much smoother—and healthier.

4. Men Are Simple

Seriously. When they like you, they’ll show it. When they don’t, they act weird and confusing. Trust and honesty are non-negotiables. If you can’t trust him, what’s the point? And yes, a woman’s intuition is everything. Don’t confuse insecurity with instinct—there’s a difference. One is rooted in fear, the other in truth.

5. Don’t Try to Change Him

Let me repeat that: you cannot change him. If you find yourself making excuses or constantly explaining away bad behavior, that’s your sign. I’ve seen it play out too many times with friends (and in my own life). You want someone who helps you grow, not someone who keeps you stuck. You can’t fix broken—especially if it’s not your job to fix it in the first place.

6. Your Partner Should Be Your Best Friend

You should be able to be your weird, wonderful self around them. The Comedian makes me laugh even in the hardest moments, and he’s also there when I need to fall apart a little. We don’t share everything (I mean, he doesn’t need the play-by-play of my favorite reality show), but he’s my safe space—and that means everything.

At the end of the day, every relationship is different. But here’s what I know for sure: you’re the only one responsible for your happiness. If you’re not happy with yourself, no one else can fill that gap. So love yourself first—and let the rest follow.

Anxiously Waiting

This past weekend, I was presented with a new thought.

Growing up, I was taught to be on time. Actually—worse—I was taught to be five minutes early, because being “on time” was considered late. You can thank my military upbringing for that one. I’ve always made it a point to let people know when I’m on my way, if I’m running late, or if I can’t make it at all. Something in my conscience said it was the right thing to do.

But after a recent conversation, I started to dig a little deeper. Why did I feel the need to over-communicate every detail of my ETA? Why did I feel anxious if someone else didn’t do the same? I always thought it was simple courtesy, but maybe it was more than that.

Reading The 5 Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman gave me some insight. We often express love—or courtesy—the way we want to receive it. So for me, punctuality and communication were ways I showed respect and care, and I expected that same energy in return.

Over time, I’ve learned you can’t expect people to be just like you. Trust me, this lesson didn’t come easy. (I’m a recovering grammar stickler who used to love correcting people.) But I’ve come to realize that unsolicited help isn’t always welcome. People appreciate your support when they ask for it—not when it's pushed on them. And that applies to punctuality, too.

Recently, I found myself feeling tense when someone wasn’t on time. I got that familiar nervous flutter. But why? After sitting with the feeling, an old friend reappeared: abandonment. Yep. That deep-rooted fear of being left alone showed up again, just wearing a different outfit.

I've come a long way in healing from those issues, but every now and then, a trigger sneaks in—reminding me that healing isn’t always linear.

This reflection reminded me of something important: I am not my past. I am not my fear. I am here, in this moment. The present is what matters most. So I’ll keep learning, keep growing, and keep catching myself when the old demons try to whisper something untrue.

Because I am not who I was. I am who I choose to be—right now.

The Waiting Room

As my life continues, I find that I often end up in the most interesting predicaments.

Now, the reason I was in the waiting room—an injury I got at work—isn’t really the point. What is the point is the unexpected people-watching adventure I found myself in during the three-hour wait to see the doctor?

I had just settled into my chair when I realized I was surrounded by a group of UPS drivers and employees. As I scrolled through my phone, something caught my attention. A FedEx employee came in and sat right next to one of the UPS guys. I immediately perked up. Both were attractive in their own way, and I couldn’t help but wonder… Was I about to witness a rom-com moment in real life?

What a great story it would be: The UPS guy and the FedEx gal fall in love. The irony! The cuteness!

Naturally, I eavesdropped a little. (Don’t judge me—I had time to kill.) Apparently, UPS employees don’t pay for their uniforms. That’s about all I got from their exchange, but the body language said enough. The UPS guy was definitely into her. Their conversation fizzled out eventually, and they both left after about an hour—but for a brief moment, I felt like I was witnessing the first scene of something beautiful.

All in all, I might’ve been present for the beginning of a great love story. And honestly, that made the three-hour doctor visit totally worth it.