There’s a certain tone people use when they say it. “Leave men alone.” You know the one. The exhausted tone. The “I’m healed now” tone. The “I have chosen peace” tone. As if peace and men are mutually exclusive concepts. And every time I hear it, I blink slowly and think: For what good reason?
You think a person like me will stop getting into relationships because a divorce happened? Because a relationship ended when a man cheated? Because a man I loved deeply ghosted me until I had to read between the lines like I was analyzing Shakespeare in high school English? Oh no. Absolutely not.
I will get angry. I will cry dramatically. I will write a ten-page SMS and chat full of excellent grammar, powerful vocabulary, and unnecessary citations. I will send it at 2am for emotional emphasis. Then I will stay single for a year.
I will “focus on myself.” I will journal. I will heal. I will do the whole spiritual rebirth package. And then? I will go right back into battle as if nothing ever happened. Because here is the thing people don’t understand about women like me: I am not leaving men alone. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
You know that group of women who swear off men forever after heartbreak? The ones who say, “I’m done. I’m focusing on myself. I choose peace.” I respect them deeply. But I cannot relate. Not even a little bit. Because when they say, “I’m done with men,” I’m sitting there thinking… How?
What do you even mean you’re done? Men are so… delicious. Yes. I said it. Delicious. Not perfect. Not emotionally stable. Not always wise. Not always faithful. Not always communicative. But still… somehow… delicious. Very delicious.
Deeply problematic? Yes. Emotionally confusing? Absolutely. Still attractive? Unfortunately.
Heartbreak is painful. I will never pretend it’s not. A man cheating on you will humble you. Being ghosted by someone you loved deeply will humble you even more. Divorce? That one will sit you down like life itself saying, “Let’s talk.” But pain does not automatically mean you must retire from the entire sport. Imagine telling a boxer, “You got punched once. Please leave boxing alone forever.” Impossible.
Some of us are simply built differently. We cry, we heal, we process, we gather our dignity from the floor, and then we lace our gloves again. Because love — chaotic, unpredictable, occasionally foolish love — is still worth experiencing. Even when it bruises us.
There’s a quiet pressure after heartbreak to become hard. To say things like; “Men are trash.” “I will never trust again.” “I don’t need them.” But bitterness is not my brand. Disappointment? Yes. Temporary rage? Absolutely. Dramatic emotional speeches in the mirror? Often. But permanent cynicism? No. I refuse to let the worst experiences with men convince me that the entire species is a mistake.
That kind of thinking might protect your heart — but it also starves it. And my heart, unfortunately, is still very hungry.
There is something brave about loving again after being hurt. Not foolish — brave. Because every new relationship is a risk. You could get your heart broken again. You could waste your time. You could learn another painful lesson. Or…You could meet someone wonderful. Someone kind. Someone emotionally intelligent. Someone who communicates instead of disappearing like a magician during conflict. But you’ll never find that person if you retire permanently after the first few injuries. Love requires stamina. And apparently, I have a lot of it.
So when people say, “Leave men alone,” I just laugh. Leave them alone for what good reason? To prove I’ve been hurt? To prove I’ve learned a lesson? To prove I’m strong? I don’t need to stop loving men to prove any of that.
I can be strong and still desire romance. I can be wise and still take risks. I can be healed and still flirt irresponsibly at dinner. I am not running from the battlefield. If anything, I’m stretching, hydrating, and preparing for the next round.
So yes. I will cry when things end. I will write unnecessarily long Messages. I will disappear for a year to rebuild my emotional strength. And then I will return. Because no matter how many heartbreaks happen in my life, one truth remains: I am not leaving men alone. I am dying in battle. And honestly? I’m okay with that.
You think a person like me will stop getting into relationships because a divorce happened? Because a relationship ended when a man cheated? Because a man I loved deeply ghosted me until I had to read between the lines like I was analyzing Shakespeare in high school English? Oh no. Absolutely not.
I will get angry. I will cry dramatically. I will write a ten-page SMS and chat full of excellent grammar, powerful vocabulary, and unnecessary citations. I will send it at 2am for emotional emphasis. Then I will stay single for a year.
I will “focus on myself.” I will journal. I will heal. I will do the whole spiritual rebirth package. And then? I will go right back into battle as if nothing ever happened. Because here is the thing people don’t understand about women like me: I am not leaving men alone. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
You know that group of women who swear off men forever after heartbreak? The ones who say, “I’m done. I’m focusing on myself. I choose peace.” I respect them deeply. But I cannot relate. Not even a little bit. Because when they say, “I’m done with men,” I’m sitting there thinking… How?
What do you even mean you’re done? Men are so… delicious. Yes. I said it. Delicious. Not perfect. Not emotionally stable. Not always wise. Not always faithful. Not always communicative. But still… somehow… delicious. Very delicious.
Deeply problematic? Yes. Emotionally confusing? Absolutely. Still attractive? Unfortunately.
Heartbreak is painful. I will never pretend it’s not. A man cheating on you will humble you. Being ghosted by someone you loved deeply will humble you even more. Divorce? That one will sit you down like life itself saying, “Let’s talk.” But pain does not automatically mean you must retire from the entire sport. Imagine telling a boxer, “You got punched once. Please leave boxing alone forever.” Impossible.
Some of us are simply built differently. We cry, we heal, we process, we gather our dignity from the floor, and then we lace our gloves again. Because love — chaotic, unpredictable, occasionally foolish love — is still worth experiencing. Even when it bruises us.
There’s a quiet pressure after heartbreak to become hard. To say things like; “Men are trash.” “I will never trust again.” “I don’t need them.” But bitterness is not my brand. Disappointment? Yes. Temporary rage? Absolutely. Dramatic emotional speeches in the mirror? Often. But permanent cynicism? No. I refuse to let the worst experiences with men convince me that the entire species is a mistake.
That kind of thinking might protect your heart — but it also starves it. And my heart, unfortunately, is still very hungry.
There is something brave about loving again after being hurt. Not foolish — brave. Because every new relationship is a risk. You could get your heart broken again. You could waste your time. You could learn another painful lesson. Or…You could meet someone wonderful. Someone kind. Someone emotionally intelligent. Someone who communicates instead of disappearing like a magician during conflict. But you’ll never find that person if you retire permanently after the first few injuries. Love requires stamina. And apparently, I have a lot of it.
So when people say, “Leave men alone,” I just laugh. Leave them alone for what good reason? To prove I’ve been hurt? To prove I’ve learned a lesson? To prove I’m strong? I don’t need to stop loving men to prove any of that.
I can be strong and still desire romance. I can be wise and still take risks. I can be healed and still flirt irresponsibly at dinner. I am not running from the battlefield. If anything, I’m stretching, hydrating, and preparing for the next round.
So yes. I will cry when things end. I will write unnecessarily long Messages. I will disappear for a year to rebuild my emotional strength. And then I will return. Because no matter how many heartbreaks happen in my life, one truth remains: I am not leaving men alone. I am dying in battle. And honestly? I’m okay with that.
