Help! My Boyfriend Just Blindsided Me Right Before the Holidays.

Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)

Dear Prudence,

I (F36) was dating my long-term boyfriend (M40) for over five years, living together for over four, when he broke up with me over a week ago. I had felt like he was a bit distant with me lately, but I had no idea things were as bad as they apparently were. I’m really struggling with being blindsided by all of this—seemingly overnight, my life has been turned upside down, and I can’t understand why he wouldn’t have said anything earlier. The entire time before this happened things went on as normal, we still did activities together, went out for dinners, walked our dog together, etc. Any tips on how to let go of this? I’ve been through breakups before, but this just hits different.

—Blindsided at Christmas

Dear Blindsided,

This is devastating, and frankly, bizarre behavior on your ex’s part. Your situation reminds me of something that happened to Allison Raskin, a comedian and writer whose work I really like (here’s her Substack!). In 2020, Raskin’s fiancé abruptly left her. She was blindsided much like you were. “Within 20 minutes my life and my future had fallen apart,” she wrote later about the experience. She explains in that piece that she came to see the situation as a “freak accident.” And that while she’ll never be able to get answers on why her partner abruptly broke up with her, she was able to frame what happened in a way that set her up for happiness, and reminded her that she does have control:

While our last few months together weren’t ideal, I know in my heart that if he had come to me and asked to work on things, I would have. I would not have given up on him like he gave up on me. Despite our growing disconnection during the pandemic, I remained a good partner to him until the day he left. And I will remain a good partner in my future relationships. His actions do not define me. But my response does. And I am proud to say I responded with self-compassion.

So, back to your situation: This is not your first break up, and you might have some idea of what self-compassion looks like for you in terms of “self-care” types of activities. Yoga, runs, vegging on the coach, getting your nails done, reading, watching movies silently in the same room as a friend … do all of that. In any break-up, some or even most of the equation is just time. That holds true here, too.

But I also want you to know that it’s ok if you don’t fully “let go of this” for a good long while. Something very jarring happened to you! You might need a while to process, even as you also rejoin the world and do other things and even date other people! Have some self-compassion for yourself around that aspect of this. Raskin, for her part, met, got engaged, and married to someone else … and appears to be still processing her last break up. “Sometimes the worst experience of your life turns into a two book deal with HarperCollins!!” she posted on Twitter/X a few months ago, announcing the sale of a novel about a woman whose fiancé abruptly leaves her. Also, you know who wins the prize for deeply never letting things go? Taylor Fucking Swift! Sure, I basically believe her when she says, “I don’t care about anything that happened to me when I was 19,” in the sense that she isn’t staying up crying over long-lost exes. But on the other hand—obviously she cares.

My point is: You are not broken or hopelessly sad if this giant life experience sticks with you. Instead of focusing on how to “let it go,” perhaps you could think about what it looks like to transform it. You do not necessarily need to write songs and sell books about this breakup. But it might feel good to really lean into the feelings and—even if you’ve never really tried your hand at poetry, or memoir, or painting, or sculpture before—use them to fuel a little art.

Dear Prudence,

I know this is a relatively low-stakes question, but it’s important to me that I do the right thing.

We recently moved after retiring and began attending a wonderful, diverse, inclusive church in a nearby village. Several unhoused people from the community are regular, active attendees, and I have become friends with one of them, I’ll call Lisa. Lisa and I have bonded over challenges with our adult children, concerns about community matters and the environment, and our much-loved pets. Despite the difference in our situations, I consider her a dear friend.

I want to get a small gift for Lisa for Christmas. This is something I often do for close friends, expecting nothing in return from them. I do not want to cause Lisa to feel like I am doling out charity or that she needs to reciprocate. I’ve thought about knitting her a scarf, baking cookies, or some other inexpensive but personal gift. Does this sound okay? Do I tell her ahead of time I have something for her, or just quietly give it to her and tell her I expect nothing in return? Or is this just a bad idea all the way around?

—The Gift of Friendship

Dear Gift of Friendship,

Yes, please get Lisa a gift! Do whatever you do for your other friends for her, too. Don’t warn her about it. Just show up with the gift, and, if (and only if) she apologizes for not having anything for you, say what you’d say to any of your other friends in that situation—that you are just a gift-giver, and were not expecting anything in return.

Dear Prudence,

I’m a 30-year-old woman, so this question feels silly but: How do I bring friendships from the “let’s get drinks!” “Happy to hang out at yoga!” type over to closer connection? I know not everyone who is a casual friend would gel as something closer, but I do want more close friends. I moved to a new city a couple of years ago and tried all the classic stuff: joining groups for hobbies and volunteering, gym classes and neighborhood stuff. I made small talk and was proactive about invites, and now I have … lots of acquaintances. Work is even busier now than it was then, so I am not as active in that stuff as I first was, but I keenly miss close friendships. Part of it also feels like while I’m interested in this, everyone else is so settled and busy that it’s hard to schedule and I don’t feel like the friend situation is symmetrical. Any tips?

—Looking for Closeness

Dear Looking,

I think you might be further on your way to having close friends than you realize. My advice is to just keep being proactive about extending invites to people who seem genuinely happy to take you up on them. Don’t keep texting people who you get nothing much back from, but see if you can notice how/if they will show up in other ways that aren’t necessarily “initiating the plans.” Being a plan-maker isn’t something everyone is great at (especially in this stage of adulthood and the attendant responsibilities), but maybe some of the folks you know are quick to text back when you have a problem, for example, or to suggest a fun location when you ask if they’re free to hang out.

To that point, be vulnerable with people. When you do hang out with acquaintances, let them in on little problems in your life, and see if they reciprocate. Suggest hang-outs that are slightly deeper than getting a drink—going on a hike, attending a show, taking an art class together. Notice what people are interested in, and suggest things you both might like to do that are outside the box. You will get some “no’s” and that’s ok. Another idea: Throw a party! (Personally, I’d rather die. But it can be a good way to hang out with a lot of people at once).

Does this all sound basic? I think the main tip I have is to be patient. A close friend is an acquaintance that you keep hanging out with until suddenly it’s been five years and you realize they know each other’s entire dating histories, and they’re on the short list of people you text when you’re having a true crisis. I’ve had many a drink-filled evening with someone I don’t know super well where we end the night being like, omg, we should be besties. That can feel really exciting—someone you have sparks with, who is also looking for a close friend! But in my experience, the slower burns tend to be the relationships that really stick.

What are parents of bisexual teens supposed to do about sleepovers? For my heterosexual kid, the rule is “no opposite-sex sleepovers,” and if I had a gay child, the rule would be “no same-sex sleepovers.” It seems very unfair to prohibit my bisexual teen from having sleepovers just because they happen to be attracted to both genders, but it also doesn’t seem fair that my other teens have to abide by these “no sleepovers with people whom you might want to have sex with” rules while the bisexual teen doesn’t.