When I go through a breakup, it feels like the world as I know it is over. It feels as though a grounding gravitational force in my life has been tossed into oblivion and I am left spinning with no grip on my senses. My senseless spinning always seems to fade into questions of identity. Who am I? Who do I want to be? Sometimes I feel sick thinking about how much a breakup unbalances me.
I used to be really cool in high school. I had a 10 Things I Hate About You poster in my bedroom. I listened to Fleetwood Mac and The Cranberries. I read Angela Davis for fun. Jo March was my idol. Barnard College was my dream school.
I also never had a boyfriend. Sure, I had crushes and daydreamed about an imaginary soulmate– some of my friends even say I was boy crazy– but I was so, so single. I pushed aside serious thoughts of romance in favor of the unassailable pursuit of my academic and personal goals.
Looking back, I wonder if my single-mindedness was less about discipline and more about an early feminist instinct. Without realizing it, I was practicing what so many feminist thinkers have demanded: the decentering of men from women’s lives. I built my identity around art, politics, and ambition instead of who would go out with me.
And yet, when I began dating, I felt the gravitational pull of romance threaten to eclipse the parts of myself I once considered untouchable. That’s not to say my boyfriends were controlling or unsupportive of my goals, but I felt the need to see love as the ultimate validation. A breakup feels apocalyptic not just because of heartbreak, but because it exposes how much of our sense of self we’ve allowed to orbit around another person. It is destabilizing precisely because it reveals how deeply we’ve internalized a patriarchal script that tells us to measure our lives by our romantic relationships to men.
But feminism also insists on the possibility of return: to ourselves, to our ambitions, to the cool teenage girls we once were. I see my single girl era as a fresh opportunity to explore myself and see where life can take me. I want to simultaneously grow into a fuller version of myself while returning to the self I once knew intimately. I want to reclaim my novelty while fulfilling the vision of womanhood I’ve only dreamed of.
The Breakup Feminist Canon
In a journey to de-center men and understand how feminism can transform my life, I looked to the experts: lesbians. Lesbian thought and queer theory embody what it means to live life outside of the gravitational pull of men.
There is real power in giving yourself the education to corroborate your thoughts and feelings about the world. Education is uniquely powerful. No matter what forces are weaponized to repress and control, knowledge cannot be robbed, ideas cannot be unthought, and education cannot be unlearned. Feminism’s great gift is showing us that the personal is political, and therefore the personal can be changed. For me, that means reorienting heartbreak—not as a collapse, but as an opening to rebuild around myself, to practice love as liberation rather than dependence.
Here is the canon list I have put together using recommendations from my friends (of all sexualities), gender studies class curricula, and the nooks and crannies of the internet:
When The Breakup is Fresh
Bluets by Maggie Nelson
A poetic meditation on grief, loss, and longing, using the color blue as a lens for heartbreak and emotional recovery.
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
A seminal novel following Janie Crawford’s journey through love, loss, and self-realization as she ultimately claims her independence and voice.
The Awakening by Kate Chopin
A classic novel about a woman confronting societal expectations and choosing personal freedom over conventional love.
All About Love by Bell Hooks
Explores the transformative power of love and challenges cultural misconceptions, helping readers process heartbreak and redefine emotional connection.
The Theory to Back the Thoughts
The Second Sex (also Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter and The Woman Destroyed) by Simone de Beauvoir
Foundational feminist texts exploring women’s oppression, autonomy, and the struggle to define oneself outside male-dominated society.
Women, Race and Class by Angela Davis
Analyzes how race, class, and gender intersect to shape women’s oppression and resistance throughout history.
The Sexual Contract by Carole Pateman
A political theory classic exposing how social contracts and marriage historically reinforce patriarchal dominance.
On Women by Susan Sontag
Essays and reflections examining women’s roles, representation, and intellectual contributions in culture.
Gender Trouble by Judith Butler
Introduces the concept of gender performativity, challenging fixed notions of gender and power structures.
The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House by Audre Lorde
A powerful essay urging marginalized women to create new paths rather than relying on existing patriarchal structures.
Reclaiming Self and Moving On
A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
An influential essay on the need for women to have financial independence and creative space to define themselves.
Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
A memoir of self-discovery through travel, spirituality, and reclaiming joy after a painful divorce.
Untamed by Glennon Doyle
A memoir encouraging women to break free from societal expectations and embrace their authentic, independent selves.
Singled Out by Bella DePaulo
A practical, empowering guide celebrating singlehood as a fulfilling, autonomous lifestyle choice.
Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
A utopian novel imagining a female-only society, highlighting independence, cooperation, and women’s self-sufficiency.
The Importance of Feminist Literature
I find special comfort in the works written generations ago. Nations rise and fall, laws are created and abolished, technology changes the world, and yet, we women experience the same things, make the same mistakes, and learn the same lessons.
Love, heartbreak, and self discovery are eternal. They are the truths of human experience; to feel their burn is a gift.
I am taking time to reflect on how my experiences are not as singular as I think. My mother faced the same internal turmoil, and her mother, and her mother, and so on… I feel more connected to the women around me and the woman who laid the way for us today. I want to feel the depth of this revelation for as long as I can.
Feminism reminds me that this continuity is not just coincidence but inheritance: the weight and wisdom of women’s lives passed down through generations. To recognize myself in their struggles is to see that heartbreak and self-discovery are not private failures, but part of a collective story of women learning, resisting, and becoming. In that recognition, there is both comfort and power. I savor the knowledge that I am not alone, and that by carrying these lessons forward, I am also shaping the path for those who will come after me.