The hardest thing to do when you’re in the midst of a breakup, the worst heartbreak you’ve ever experienced, drama with friends, or an emotional trigger you can’t find your way out of, is to stay on the white horse.
The white horse and I didn’t use to be friends. I used to think that the white horse was stupid, weak and not even an option.
It all started after my boyfriend at the time and I were going through what I was politely describing to other people as a “rough patch” and what would honestly be described as “I’d rather receive a televised enema of fire than go through this pain and mind f*ckery for one second longer.”
I found out that he had not only cheated on me but that he had cheated on me with someone I considered a friend. I had been lied to for months. I found out about it all before either of them knew that I was aware of what was going on. Immediately, I transformed into Tony Soprano’s protegé. My own thoughts began to acquire a wise-guy accent.
I wanted to catch them, frame them, call them both out on their crap, yell at them and then slowly, very slowly, torture them. Basically, I wanted to ruin their lives and make them feel as uncomfortable, hurt, upset, and humiliated as I felt.
Right as I grabbed my phone to call my boyfriend and get the plan in motion, my Mom called. I had to answer.
The moment I heard her voice, I lost it. I emotionally went from Mafia boss to 16-year-old Natasha who just asked out her crush to Homecoming the day before homecoming because no one had asked her and he said: “sorry, I have to feed my sick dog that night” (true story) and everyone laughed and I cried. I was crying so hard on the phone that my Mom got in her car and drove up to Los Angeles.
“You’ve got to stay on your white horse,” she said. Continue Reading