The crazy ways we cope with break-ups
“Men like red nail polish,” my mom informs me as we stand in front of a wall of nail polish at a salon, trying to decide on a color for our mani pedis.
“Really,” I say, reaching for a bottle of pale pink labeled, “Let Nature Take Its Quartz” and handing it to the nail technician.
“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. But unable to let it go, adds, “Men have told me, you know.”
“Mom, men don’t give a shit about the color of your nails. You know why they say they like your red polish? Because they want to sleep with you.”
She scowls, grabs a bottle of O.P.I.’s “Cajun Shrimp” and walks to her chair.
Later, over martinis at Red White & Brew, the bartender asks for my number. I jot it down on a napkin and slowly slide it past my mom’s glass — making sure she remembers my pink nails — and over the bar to him.
We leave the bar and I make some stupid joke about getting asked out in spite of my pink nails. She doesn’t think I’m funny and she’s probably right. But I was right about the nail polish: Men don’t care. But you know who does? Women.
My girlfriend, Sarah, tells me this. Anytime she goes to dinner, she compliments the hostess on her nails — no matter the color, length, shape or bling. Sarah will fawn over the most garish, long nails and the most sensibly short ones — just the same — because everyone loves a compliment and she believes this compliment will land her a better table at the restaurant. At first I was skeptical, but then I saw it in action. Try it.
So now I’ve been getting my nails done. I want compliments, too. Prior to separating from my husband, like a lot of moms and wives out there, I put everyone else first. But now, my nails and I have a standing date in my calendar. Obviously, my kids still come first, but come on, there’s something to be said about self-care.
Also, break-ups and divorce are well-known catalysts for identity shifts and, who are we kidding, sometimes identity crises. Altering our appearances is a way to shed our old selves, regain control and feel good. Kind of like a rebirth. Coco Chanel once said, “A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.”
In high school, I got emotional-distress bangs after getting my heart broken, and in college, I got a fuck you tattoo. Both decisions I regret, sort of. I mean, my bangs grew out and thanks to lasers, that tattoo is just a memory. Either way, I’m trying to be more thoughtful about decisions that affect my body.
I reminded my mom of this several months ago, after losing my temper. “Mom, after your divorce you frosted your hair, blasted gangster rap from the BMW convertible you impulsively bought, started smoking cigarettes and drinking Captain Morgan while wearing blinged-out jeans and an ankle bracelet! You know what I’ve done: Botox, my nails, called a psychic and drunkenly made out with some firefighter. You should be praising me for not shooting up heroin. Jesus.”
She didn’t talk to me for a couple of weeks.
Women aren’t alone in this break-up behavior, either. I’ve witnessed plenty of men start working out, shaving, buying sports cars, cutting their toenails and showering in an effort to mend their broken hearts. And it makes sense. In a way, our appearances define us and at one time or another, our significant others did, too. So changing little things about ourselves shifts our energy, redefines who we are, how we feel about ourselves and the way in which we move through the world.
Sure, therapy would be a more mature and productive way to cope with the stress of a relationship ending, but definitely not one that offers the instant gratification that a new hairstyle or bathing suit does. I say, most of us have earned the right to have a momentary meltdown or make ourselves feel better with superficial stuff or vices. But for the love of god, stop yourself, phone a friend or get to a support group if you ever think about buying an ankle bracelet.
