How do you break up with someone? You asked Google – here’s the answer

Every day millions of internet users ask Google life’s most difficult questions, big and small. Anouchka Grose, a psychoanalyst, and the author of No More Silly Love Songs, answers some of the commonest queries in the Guardian. Read on: 

First of all, consult someone who’s messed it up horribly at least a couple of times. They will offer some mature and very wise counsel, not at all tinged with bitterness and regret. They won’t simply spout generic “good advice” about kindness, understanding and listening; they’ve lived. They will know that, in certain instances, it’s better just to get out and not think about the other person’s feelings; it’s thinking about their damn, stupid feelings the whole time that’s landed you in this decade-long misery-fest. If this is your case, just pack your stuff and do your thinking later. In the end you will both be glad. (See? Very sophisticated.)

 Not only are you choosing to throw yourself into the void, but you are also chucking someone else in involuntarily.

 ‘It’s awful to leave someone who doesn’t want to be left, but it can also be awful to stay with them.’ Photograph: Alamy

If, however, it’s you that’s the scoundrel – you’re having an affair or have just “gone off” someone nice who seems to love you – try not to be too much of a twit about it. It can be really shameful to be on the wrong side of this one, and shame can push you either to be dishonest or to try to redistribute the blame. Don’t attempt to convince yourself, and especially not your mutual friends, that the other person isn’t exactly a paragon of partnerhood either. Of course they aren’t, nobody is, but that doesn’t mean you have to highlight their flaws in order to make yourself feel better. Then again, there’s no need to make a massive show of self-flagellation. A touch of stoicism will do just fine. Take them out to dinner, take their feelings seriously, and let them shout at you a bit if they want to.

It’s awful to leave someone who doesn’t want to be left, but it can also be awful to stay with them. If you let them go, you will at least be giving them a chance to find someone else who is actually capable of loving them. And when you hear, 20 years later, that they are living in Brooklyn with their partner and child, you will almost cry with happiness. (At the same time as wondering, self-indulgently, whether their romantic good fortune has made it possible for them to forgive you at least a little bit. Wow, Anouchka, you really can’t let go of the idea of being a “good person”!)

Come to think of it, kindness, understanding and listening might have been quite a good idea, at least if you’re the scoundrel. There’s nothing more stupid than acting out rather than trying to articulate yourself. It’s got to be kinder to say you’re unhappy than to sleep with some passer-by (whom you then marry). The problem is that, when you start to talk and listen, you often find you can’t help liking, even loving, the other person – and that makes it very difficult to abandon them.

The one advantage of dumb acting out is that it can at least give the abandonee an opportunity to hate you. If you’re absolutely sure that leaving is essential then why spend loads of time trying to make it possible for them to continue to think well of you? This could even be considered a little vain. Attempting to do something horrible to someone in a polite way is inherently problematic. (Just look at the government.) While there might be a free-floating cultural ideal that tells us to try to be on good terms with everyone at all times, sometimes this just isn’t possible. Of course there’s no need to be nasty for the sake of it, but neurotically trying to be perfect can be time-consuming and messy. Some breakups take years. There are people who can, apparently, bring about the ideal disunion, but if everyone expects to do the same they might find themselves having a lot of very long, sad and frustrating conversations when they could have been out enjoying the sunshine. But, then again, sunshine gives you cancer and serious dialogue can make you more humane and insightful.

‘Consider divorcing on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour rather than waiting two years and calling it irretrievable breakdown.’ Photograph: Alamy

It’s hard to feel good about ending a long-term relationship, even when it’s ultimately for the best. Not only are you choosing to throw yourself into the void, but you are also chucking someone else in involuntarily. Whether they are an angel, a devil, or even just an ordinary human being, you might feel dreadful about what you’re about to do to them. That’s not a sign that you’re making a bad choice, it’s just a register of the fact that you do still care about them. So that’s nice.

On a more practical note, if you’re married to someone who does properly terrible things, consider divorcing on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour rather than waiting two years and calling it irretrievable breakdown. (But do bear in mind that it’s probably unwise to be too idealistic about divorce courts; #freetiniowens.) It’s so common for these things to be lost to history; the perp wants to go about their life as usual, find another hostage ASAP, and pretend none of it ever happened. Or if it did, it was just as much your fault as theirs. This sort of whitewashing can leave you with a disconcerting feeling of unreality. Possessing a legal document that acknowledges what actually went on might help. Having said that, if you’ve stayed in a long-term relationship with someone who’s demonstrably bad news you’ve probably lost your mental coordinates enough to find it difficult to fight for justice or recognition. If so, re-read the first paragraph, pack, and don’t forget to throw cress seeds on their sofa on the way out (or seek other good revenge advice on Mumsnet). It’s more important to be out than to be “right”.

As you can see, this is all very considered and impartial. Sometimes it’s them, sometimes it’s you (but don’t ever actually say: “It’s not you, it’s me”, obvs). And now I think it’s time for me to finally get round to doing that thinking.

Busting India’s myths around women in live-in relationships

Chandra* did not have an easy life with her neighbours. After having lived through bad divorces in the past, she and her partner Atul decided not to get married. This, open declaration of her living choices, piqued her neighbours’ curiosity and they began to speak of her in whispers and stares. It was their way of greeting her in the hallway.

Soon enough, she was often asked, “Yeh live-in kya hai? The law does not back you. You better get married.”

On August 20, the Rajasthan Human Rights panel chief Justice Prakash Tatia, made a similar note. He implied that women in live-in relationships are legally vulnerable, and even went on to call live-in relationships, a form of “social terrorism”. Frown as much as we’d like, he addressed a common underlining point of conversation about live-in relationships in India. “If they marry, there is some social security…[but in live-in] there is every chance that after some time, one person leaves and it could ruin the future of the other, normally it’s the lady…there is no registration, no divorce,” he said.

There’s much confusion about what a live-in relationship really is and entails. And yet, social stigma surrounding unmarried relationships clouds the legal stance of women. Stigma spawns lies and myths.

To a lot of people, live-in relationships may seem like a new trend — the periodic reference to “western culture” doesn’t go amiss. But the idea falls hollow, considering the Supreme Court validated a 50-year-long live-in relationship back in 1978. More recently, in 2010, the SC once again declared that there’s nothing illegal about live-in relationships while reserving judgment on Tamil actress Khusbhoo’s petition to quash 22 cases against her for speaking in favour of pre-marital sex.

There’s much confusion about what a live-in relationship really is and entails. Photo by amira_a via Flickr CC 2.0

Despite popular belief, women in live-in relationships do enjoy legal rights akin to married women. So what is their legal position?

Myth: She doesn’t have the same legal stature as a wife
In March 2015, the SC stated that an unmarried couple living together as husband and wife will enjoy the same legal status as a married couple. So, a woman living with her partner will be recognised with the same stature as a wife in a court of law. It even prescribed guidelines for courts to recognise what constitutes a live-in relationship. According to these guidelines, a domestic relationship between an adult male and an adult female, entered knowingly is the primary signpost for recognising a live-in relationship.

Under this ruling, a woman in a live-in relationship will be entitled to the same benefits of property, alimony, maintenance and custody as a woman in a married relationship.

Myth: She is not entitled to maintenance
“No such thing,” explodes Shweta Moray, a leading divorce lawyer in the Mumbai high court. “I recently dealt with a case where a woman in a live-in relationship in Pune got maintenance amount from her partner after separation. But she can avail this only under the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act [DVA] 2005.” In 2014, model Rhea Pillai demanded maintenance for her and their daughter from former live-in partner and tennis player, Leander Paes after filing a case for harassment under the DVA. The case has gone all the way to the Supreme Court this year. Women have the DVA to thank because the law helps a woman (who is is living together with her partner), demand maintenance and alimony from said partner on separation.

This is also backed by the D.Velusamy vs. D.Patchaiammal judgement of 2010 that stated although determining the nature of live-in relationships is subject to individual cases, women in such relationships (once determined by the court as being similar to that of husband and wife) are entitled to maintenance money and alimony.

An important thing to note is, while a case under DVA can be filed against a partner in light of physical abuse, it’s not the only necessity to invoke the Act, according to Moray. “If a woman has been a dependent partner in the live-in relationship and is refused shelter or maintenance at the time of separation, she can file a complaint under DVA asking for compensation, maintenance or alternative accommodation,” she says.

Myth: She cannot get custody of her child
Paes and Pillai, mentioned earlier, have been engaged in a custody battle for their daughter, who was conceived during the course of their four-year relationship. Pillai fought Paes’ plea for full custody of their daughter and in January 2017, the SC urged Paes and Pillai to settle the dispute amicably. The Bombay HC had suggested that Pillai be given full custody and Paes secure visitation rights.

Swati Malik, a leading lawyer in Mumbai High Court, who specialises in cases pertaining women’s rights, says, “The law has always favoured the child. There’s no bias against live-in relationships where children are involved. The SC’s recognition of live-in relationships in 2015 ensures that women in such relationships enjoy the same parental custodial rights as women in a marriage.”

There’s the Child Protection Act of 1960 too that ensures children born out of wedlock enjoy the same legal status as children resultant from a marriage.

Myth: She has no property rights
The SC recognised live-in relationships as legal in March 2015, but it made another addition to the ruling right after. In April 2015, it stated that women in an unmarried relationship living with a partner under the same roof would be eligible to inherit property of her partner after his death.

Moray says, “In cases of separation, women are entitled to the property of her partner only in case of joint property purchases. To be fair, this applies similarly to the male partner.”

According to this April ruling, children born out of partners in live-in relationships are also entitled to property of their parents.

Myth: She is not entitled to protection from domestic violence
Another common myth that is easily busted, courtesy of the DVA. It clearly states that a woman in a “marriage-like” relationship can avail protection against her partner. Not only this, it also specifically states that she is entitled to protection against all forms of abuse — sexual assault not leading to rape, physical, financial and emotional.

Malik points out that, additionally, an unmarried woman living with her partner can account for filing criminal proceedings under Section 375 of the Indian Penal Code if raped by him. Since she’s not legally bound by marriage, the exception to the Section that disallows married women from filing a rape case (because marital rape isn’t a criminal offence) does not apply to women in live-in relationships

“A woman in a live-in relationship will have to prove that there was no consent, which is difficult to prove as it is. It’s similar to how it would be in the case of a short-term affair between a man and a woman. Establishing consent is prime. But she does have the option of filing [a case] under Section 375. Additionally, she can also file under DVA for sexual assault,” Malik elaborates.

If we look beyond the thoo-thoos of society regarding live-in relationships, being in one seems to have become easier in India since 2015. The SC’s progressive stance has given unmarried women a legal weapon to fight social trauma and all landlord uncles’ rent refusals and helps assert women’s position in society. Amid prevailing condescension towards women in live-in relationships, it would do well if the likes of Justice Tatia don’t cloud the legal rights of women with their opinion.

Rome was not built in a day and I’m certain Romans had their own set of chee-chees at the ready. But it is only prudent that we arm ourselves with our tablet of progressive legal commandments to bust the confusing myths of live-in and living.

* name changed upon request

(Source: The Ladies Finger)

I was stuck in an abusive relationship for years

Dating is all fun and games, until you fall in love with someone who belongs in an institution for the criminally insane. It all started the usual way: I met a handsome stranger, he smiled at me, discreetly asked for my phone number, I tried my best to ignore the tingly sensation between my legs, provided him with my sister’s phone number (for some inexplicable reason) and made a hasty exit. He called soon after, and my sister handed me the phone, with one eyebrow raised; I sheepishly obliged, and the rest was your garden variety of ‘butterflies in the stomach,' followed by the stuff of nightmares.
Everything was hunky dory for the first six months, and then my false sense of independence led me to accept a part-time job.

Between my classes and the job, the time we used to waste in the name of love got significantly diminished. At first, he offered a very ‘pragmatic’ solution - that I stay up till five in the morning talking to him on the phone to make up for lost time. I tried. I failed. He reprimanded me by introducing me to every profanity available in his limited vocabulary. It was so sudden, that I was dumbstruck. I decided at once to break up with him. Unfortunately, I had no idea that the decision to break up and get back with him would last another four and a half years.

Obviously, he apologised, begged me not to leave him, and claimed that he was so scared of losing me that it was affecting his 'decision-making skills.' Waterworks, along with the ever effective Norman Bates charm. Any sane person would have preferred to bungee jump without a cord than to continue the relationship, but not me. In my defence, I was a socially awkward teenager, who was supposedly ‘in love’ for the very first time in my life. I, ridiculously, believed that this was how relationships were supposed to be.

And then started the cycle of abuse: arguments, abuses, threats and apologies. Once, we got into an argument over my choice of clothing. The next day, he swallowed sleeping pills right in front of my eyes, while I made futile attempts of knocking them out of his hands. I tried swallowing some myself--in the hope of scaring him enough to stop--but I lacked both theatrics as well as the knowledge of the right amount of pills that can be successfully swallowed without dying. Panicked, I called his friends, and eventually, he was taken to some back alley clinic. I didn't speak to him for one whole week, but that didn't end there.

Not so long after that incident, I got into the National Institute of Fashion Technology, Hyderabad(NIFT). To this day, I wonder, "Why he did not use his usual antics to stop me from leaving?" I guess, he had some redeeming qualities after all. Teary eyed we parted. I still remember his sullen expression at the railway platform. I left my hometown thinking that distance might do us some good. It did me as good as a fur coat in Delhi summers.

Fashion college and my boyfriend had one thing in common: they were both hell bent on draining me of every last bit of sanity I had left. How I hated the faculties who would overstay their welcome even by a mere 10-15 minutes. Not because I hated the classes, but because I was supposed to call my boyfriend during every break and let him know that I loved him. Our hostel rules dictated that the latest acceptable time of entry was 10 PM.

According to my boyfriend, it was imperative for my own safety that I get in by 9, regardless of circumstances. I was a puppet, and the strings were more than 800 kilometres long. Jealousy is usually a part of the package when you are in a relationship as such. He had all of my social media and email passwords, and kept track of every mail or message I sent. Never mind his fake email accounts I found out about later, which were primarily used for ‘harmless’ conversations with random women who swore by their aptitude for fellatio.

First semester into my stint at college, he visited Hyderabad. In all fairness, I might have suggested the idea and he was the one bearing all the expenses. We had a lovely time together, which might've had something to do with all the sex we were having. Sex was always great, except the times I would ask him to stop because it hurt, and he would conveniently ignore me. After that, every now and then, he would remind me how much money he had to spend on that trip.

Once, after an argument, he suggested that I return him the money because I wasn't 'worthy' of that expenditure. Railway tickets: ₹ 5000, Hotel booking: ₹ 5000, emergency contraceptive pills: ₹ 100, boyfriend asking for his money’s worth: priceless. One useful tip: do not ever try to re-enact celebrity couple nudies in a cheap hotel room. Especially, if your partner has psychotic tendencies. The results always looks like some hardcore manatee mating ritual, and the photographs can be used to blackmail you into submission for years.

Whenever the long distance roughing up got a little too much for me, college vacations would appear right around the corner. People who believe elephants have good memory have obviously never met my ex boyfriend. He would take me on romantic long drives and recount every unwitting mistake I had made in the past semester. Mistakes such as over-reaching the acceptable quota of friends.

Funny incident: once we were having our usual ‘on the verge of violence’ arguments, and I, foolishly, decided to make a logical retort. His reaction was to demand that I immediately get out of the car, in the middle of nowhere, at around nine o’clock in the night, without my wallet or phone. What good are all those friends if they don’t have telepathic superpowers? Luckily, after 15 minutes, my boyfriend was convinced that I had got all the fresh air that was required. Ah, my knight in shining armour.

Another incident involved us having a regular clash of opinions, and he crashed his car against a tree because I would not budge from my views. Life teaches you a lot of things. That day, I learned that not every car has airbags, and seatbelts are to be worn at all times. Sorry, Shaktimaan.

Of all the stupid arguments I employed to convince myself against leaving him, ‘He has never physically abused me,’ was on top of that list. That changed when he visited during my college summer internship in Delhi. We were having an argument in the middle of the night, and I decided to test his patience by raising my voice around two decibels higher than his.

Next thing I knew, my face was planted on the bed, with my wrists painfully pinned behind my back. I still remember the weave pattern on the bed sheet; the curse of being a fashion designer. You would think this would have given me enough courage to dump him, but it did not. The thing about such relationships is that the person on the receiving end of the abuse is kind of like a dog on a treadmill: you definitely know this is not going well, but you don't know how to stop it without inflicting some serious damage.

It all ended after five LONG years. I wish I could tell you that I amassed enough courage to stand up to him, and delivered a swift kick in his groins before a dramatic exit, but that was not the case. The poor schmuck committed a massive faux-pas by raising his voice in front of my elder sister. The thing is, my sister was kind of aware of the censored versions of my circumstances, but she hesitated to intervene. Sibling relationships can be tricky at times.

Getting back to the story, though - now, imagine yourself witnessing a wildfire, while there is a massive lightning storm raging along with a volcanic eruption in the background. That is absolutely nothing compared to the fierce monologue that rained on the poor fellow. I witnessed Aphrodite turn into Medusa. There were not-so-hollow threats made to his life. My loving mama bear of a sister, verbally illustrated multiple scenarios where at least one of his body parts might be mutilated in ways that would have put the SAW series to shame. I stood there dumb founded.

Apparently, that was the only thing I was good at. I would have bowed to my sister, but I was scared that a well deserved slap might accelerate towards me too. It was the possibly the unluckiest day for my ex, because my brother in law, who was just getting back from work, witnessed the scene too. He then narrated a hundred creative ways that could be used to ruin somebody’s life, with a demeanour that was apt for delivering sympathies at a funeral. I have never seen a person face a firing squad, but I am sure that such an unfortunate individual would have shared the same facial expression as my ex bore at the time of this multifarious verbal onslaught.

However, not everything was unpleasant in those five years. We had some lovely moments together as well. Moments like the time we went full retard in a pani puri eating competition. The poor pani puriwalah was the only person rooting for our relationship. I'm sure he was imagining babies with pani puri gobbling superpowers, whenever he looked at us. But none of these happy moments could even out the times where I felt utterly helpless and loathed to the very last fibre of my existence.
Nothing is as resilient as human spirit.

I am older and comparatively wiser now, but I wouldn’t go as far as expecting the same from him. The things that I decided to keep from that relationship are the lessons I learned about the illusions of love, and a marvellously kitschy pair of plush cats with ‘Made for each other’ imprinted on them in glitter.

(Source: Scoop Whoop)

Dear ex: Thank you for making me pay a heavy price for getting intimate with you

"I am sorry I loved you. I am sorry I let you in my life. I am sorry that I let you touch me. I am sorry that I never really spoke about our break up to anyone we knew."

I resisted writing this for too long but the girl who posted the chats about her ex gave me all the courage to do this. I could relive every moment in the letter she wrote.

So here it is.

Dear Mr.,
I can blame you for everything I don't have today: the college of my dreams, my friends I could die for, my confidence when I speak with boys. The list is endless.

You made sure that everyone I had in life knew about each and every intimate moment I had spent with you and the guys before you. And some people made sure that I 'paid the price' for it.

Some people took the liberty to try and wrong me and justified themselves by saying that "she has done it before" or "well she is impure" and blah blah.
But I don't blame them. They just stepped on the broken glass that you smashed on the floor. If I broke your heart and that's what you told them all, you broke me, my soul, and my inner self.

Every ounce of me hated me. But no ounce of me hated you. It still doesn't. Because you were never meant to matter I guess.

You are not the companion I would choose for my life's long journey. You are not someone I can trust with my secrets. You are not someone who can listen and not judge. You are not someone I could grow with. Nor could I do the same with the boys before you.

I may have been physically intimate with people but the connection of the mind still seems absent. And trust me, I did try to look for it in our relationship for 8 long months. But I could not and it's not my fault.

So everything that you have done can't be forgotten. I won't let myself forget it. In fact, it was such a blessing in disguise. You made me realise that I was swimming oceans for people who won't cross bridges for me.

You made me realise that love is not what you see but it's what you feel. You made me realise that love doesn't hurt but it heals. You made me realise that you're not the one for me.

To find a man is like house hunting. You can rent it and you temporarily stay in it but you won't settle until you step into a structure of the same material of sand and cement but a different feeling called "home".

So thank you my ex. I have no hatred towards you and this is my closure.

- the girl who wasn't your cup of tea.

(Source: AkkarBakkar)

Live-in relationships...an extension of Sambandham marriages in Kerala?

An interesting article written by Sreelata Menon, who has worked at Onlooker and World Trade magazines before teaching History to undergraduates and doing a stint in an advertising agency. She is also the author of Freelance Writing for the Newbie Writer, and her books also include Guru Nanak and Indira Gandhi for Penguin-Puffin.

She was dressed simply in a two-piece mundu set with white jasmine flowers adorning her long plait – which was all the ornament she had on, other than perhaps a broad gold chain. And to my young eyes she looked lovely. Like the pretty bride she was. As for him, I must say I was more than a wee bit disappointed. He looked much older. To someone who was just beginning to understand the nuances of romance, it was a little dampening to find that the groom was nowhere like the heroes of the Mills & Boon romances sneakily borrowed from her mother. And I wondered how she had agreed to it. But she was coy and shy. He was tender and caring. The gentleness with which he caressingly spoke to her and her blushing responses would have made one truly believe it was a match made in heaven. And thus it was for the next few days that he was there and perhaps over the next maybe 20 years when he visited her home.

Years and many weddings later I realised that the protocol followed was quite unlike not only the naach-gaana-sangeet-mehendi of every ceremony of today but also what came after.

There was no bidai; no setting up house together, and more importantly, no nuclear in-laws as we know them now.
This coming together of a couple belonged to another time, another era.

Over the centuries, the Nairs – the martial nobility of Kerala – have followed a system of matrimony that has evolved from an arrangement known as Sambandham. An astrologer usually fixes the date and on that day the groom would arrive at the bride’s residence accompanied by some maternal male relatives. He would sit under a decorated canopy while the bride was brought out by a female elder to the sound of conch shells and nagaswaram. At the appointed time, he would hand over two pieces of gold bordered cloth to the bride and in return the bride would give him a thamboolam consisting of betel leaves and supari. This was all that was required to cement the union.

There were no priests, no mangalsutra, no exchange of rings and certainly no chanting of mantras. Only a lamp lit next to an ornate gold and black drum filled with rice and sheaves of banana florets that held pride of place (even to this day all Nair wedding ceremonies are similar in nature, but with the ring and mangalsutra as add-ons). It was always followed by a sumptuous feast – the sadhya. And since all girls needed to marry ‘up’, the more prominent the Nair family or higher in caste they were, they married Brahmins or Nampoothiris (caste wise higher than Nairs) and more often than not, became the second or even third wives of well-placed much older Brahmin or Nampoothiri men who already had a wife or two and children of their own caste.

And what I had witnessed that day – I must have been 12 or 13 then – was one such Sambandham, my grandaunt’s. But it was a Sambandham that had evolved with time to become more regularised and permanent than in the past, because my grandaunt went on to bear many children who grew up in her home under the matrilineal system, while her husband (with his first wife and children at home) visited ever so often. It was all very civilised and even had all of them come calling once in a while.

Sambandham marriages were contractual and could be dissolved at will with neither party being victimised.
They were quite regulated, because there had to be some rituals for the bride, omitting which could lead to excommunication.

Couples in a live-in relationship today are possibly playing out the Sambandham of yore but without the benefits or disadvantages of a joint family or a ceremony. Do you agree?