It was a chilly morning in January 1993 when I received a life-altering phone call from the boy I had a massive crush on. To be precise, it was January 2nd at 8 a.m. Why the early wake-up call? Was he thinking about me the moment he opened his eyes? Did he want to profess his undying love for me again?
“I think we need to take a break,” he said. Those exact words still echo in my mind. After an agonizing silence while my brain struggled to accept that I was being dumped, we had a clumsy conversation, and I hung up. I immediately grabbed my diary and jotted down his heart-wrenching statement.
Then the tears flowed. I cried so much that I couldn’t eat all day, and I even got sick at dinner. I was just 14, he was my first boyfriend and my first kiss, and I had fallen head over heels. I was an emotional wreck.
That winter, I found solace in my room, chatting with friends on the phone, pouring my heart out in my diary, and immersing myself in music. Looking back, those tunes were my lifeline. There were other women (yes, I fancied myself a woman back then) who were just as heartbroken, and their lyrics fueled my journaling—and later, the poetry I attempted to write (which, to be honest, was pretty terrible at the time but marked the start of my writing journey).
Musical Lifelines
Among the remarkable female singer-songwriters of the early ’90s, four captured my heart: Tori, Sarah, Sophie, and Sinéad (we were practically friends!). Even today, hearing their voices brings me right back to that moment in time. I can almost smell the Nag Champa incense I burned and feel the purple scrunchie that was always on my wrist as I scribbled my thoughts.
First up, Tori. Many of us turned to Tori Amos’s Little Earthquakes during those tumultuous teenage years, and she delivered it with a jolt of intensity, each track a piercing reminder of heartache. “Tear In Your Hand” became the ultimate breakup anthem, mixing anger, sarcasm, vulnerability, and longing. Every time I hear her sing, “I don’t believe you’re leaving / ‘Cause me and Charles Manson like the same ice cream,” it hits me hard. Thanks, Tori, for reminding me of the pain!
Then there was Sarah. Back in the early ’90s, Sarah McLachlan wasn’t yet a household name, but I stumbled upon her album, Solace, at a record store (remember those?). Her hauntingly beautiful voice and poignant lyrics resonated with my soul. I played that album on repeat, curled up with my knees hugged to my chest, rocking and crying. Yes, I admit it.
I was also hopelessly enchanted by Sophie B. Hawkins. Her hit, “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover,” felt tailor-made for me. It perfectly captured the essence of desire mixed with playful seduction. I could dance to it in my room, letting loose in private, of course. That climactic moment where she sings, “and I returned as chained and bound to you” still sends shivers down my spine.
And last but not least, Sinéad. Oh, Sinéad. She was a mysterious and fascinating figure. “Nothing Compares 2 U” is the quintessential heartbreak song. With her striking shaved head and somber attire, Sinéad encapsulated the raw pain that comes with breakups. Her lyrics articulated feelings I was too shy to voice. After listening, I even attempted to pen my own version (which I hope remains buried forever).
The Healing Power of Music
To say these songs saved me is no exaggeration. Those intense teenage emotions can feel overwhelming—often ugly and isolating. I struggled to share my feelings with friends or family, feeling too vulnerable and embarrassed. However, having someone else voice those emotions was a true gift. It allowed me to grieve, feel, and, most importantly, express myself.
At the time, I held onto a sliver of hope, but I didn’t expect a fairy tale ending. In none of those songs did the characters win back their love. But my boy was sincere when he said we just needed a break. By the following fall, he was back in my life. He realized what we had was worth cherishing, and I suppose at 15, he was a bit more ready for it all than he had been at 14.
I forgave the heartache and look back on those months with gratitude. I experienced emotions that were necessary to confront, discovered empowering female musicians that resonated with me, and began to develop my own voice as a writer. Plus, I needed at least one breakup story to share with the world. That young man and I never parted ways again. This fall marks 22 years since we reunited, and next month, we’ll celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary.
If you’re interested in more stories like this, check out our other blog post on home insemination, where we dive into different aspects of starting a family. And for great resources on infertility and home insemination, visit WebMD.
Summary
Reflecting on a high school breakup in the ’90s, the author recounts the emotional turmoil of young love and the powerful female singer-songwriters who provided solace during that time. Tori, Sarah, Sophie, and Sinéad each played pivotal roles in helping her process heartache and find her voice as a writer. Despite the pain, the experience ultimately led to growth, understanding, and a lasting relationship.