I know breakups are supposed to be a time of mourning, but honestly, girl, you should be celebrating. This is the time for you to revel in all the petty shit you hated about that bird-brained, shit-eating fuck-face (trust me, I need all of these words), and dance upon the grave of a shitty relationship destined to die miserably anyway. But if you’re still having some trouble getting over that paste-eating dirtbag, here are a couple of mantras to chant while you’re weeping into and eating a tub of double chocolate ice cream.

I always valued my relationship with food more than ours.

All your sweet heart desires is a little peace and a dangerous amount of carbohydrates, yet all that healthy son-of-a-bitch did was criticize your life philosophy for being “too centred” on custard. A breakup was the best gift he ever gave you; this allows you to live the cliché of eating badly after a breakup. I was going to do this anyways, motherfucker — you leaving only made my disgusting snacking habits socially acceptable.

Ah, selfishness, how I’ve missed you!

Relationships are nothing but a big scam. You have to give up half of all your good shit ­­­— your bed, your food, your time, and your youth — just because you’re in “love” or what the fuck ever. Don’t buy into this “other half” garbage. You’re a whole, now with a whole lot of time to sleep on your bed with your legs spread out.

Family you don’t like? They can eat a dick!

You’ve been to enough family reunions to know that his mother thinks he could do much better and his brother is an insult to the scum of the earth. But now, as a free bitch, you’ll never be forced to sit through any aggressively awkward dinners with them ever again. Keep moving forward, girl, on to better places and gene pools.