Should You Avoid Places That You Went to With Your Ex?

A few weeks ago, I received an invitation to a fundraiser. Generally, I’m wary of fundraisers. They cost a lot of money and often get held in hotels and event spaces that are very formal and feel distanced from the causes they are trying to support. Not the case with this one.

This organization, a small, local nonprofit, has a mission I believe in strongly—improving literacy rates for elementary students. The organization also has a great track record of using its funds wisely, with donations going straight into its programs. It chose to throw a casual barbecue at an ideal place for such an event: a big, open lawn at an outdoor ranch that is beautiful and natural, fun and family-friendly. I know the location well; it’s where my ex-husband and I got married more than 10 years ago.

I haven’t been back since; it’s not a place I ever imagined I would go back to visit for extremely obvious reasons.

Even reading the name of the place on the invitation was enough to make my body tense up. My first thought was how to find the easiest way to avoid going. I checked my calendar. Maybe I’d already be busy that day! No.

I really wanted to support this nonprofit, so I settled on a compromise of sorts. I would buy a ticket to support the event and then not go. That way, I’m donating, and I don’t have to go back. This would definitely solve the issue. I bought my ticket and put it out of my mind. Well, I tried to put it out of my mind at least, but to no avail. I kept thinking about it, which is, of course, why I’m writing about it.

I thought about all those times I’ve suggested restaurants to friends where the person responded, “No, I used to go there with my ex a lot,” or “That was my ex’s favorite place,” and I automatically crossed it off the list of places to go in the future with that person, not wanting it to be weird.

This type of quandary seems pretty commonplace on both a small scale: the bad date or the favorite "spot" with an old flame, the scene of a fight or a romantic moment with a person with whom the romance has long departed; and also on a big scale: a place where someone hears the words," I love you," or worse, “I think we should break up.” Especially with negative emotional experiences, I've noticed that my senses often feel heightened. Time slows down enough for me to take in the surroundings, or rather, to endow the unpleasant feelings I have onto the exterior world. The bench I’m sitting on gets more uncomfortable. The music is even worse than I realized. The place becomes part of the bad experience, and it’s only natural to want to stay away from that location as if there were emotional yellow tape surrounding it.

But what if the place where you live permanently is the same place where you spent years in a relationship? What if you need to go somewhere for work, or there’s a birthday party for someone important in your current life, and it’s at a place you’d prefer never to set foot inside? What do you do then?

To get to the answer, I had to ask myself the following question: “What could I gain from returning to this place?”

I’ve been asking myself this question again as I contemplate the fundraiser.

The answer is going to be different for every person. The answer could very well be that you will not gain anything from a return visit. There’s nothing wrong with staying far away, especially if the location is going to spoil the entire experience for you and for others. And the answer might reveal that it’s better to steer clear because there’s nothing that could be beneficial.

On the other hand, the answer might be quite the opposite. Perhaps I might gain power or strength by showing up to a place that houses negative memories and overcoming the pain or bittersweet nostalgia that location represents. Perhaps I will rewrite a new memory over the old one with different friends, or a new significant other. Perhaps the difficulty is not in the place but in myself.

This is something I learned in an unusual way, during what has become unofficially named my "Sister-Sister" trip.

Once a year, my sister and I get on planes without luggage early in the morning and travel to northern California for one day, and then that same night, we fly back to our homes. We do this because it’s the perfect halfway point between the places where we live. It also happens to be where I lived with my ex-husband for most of our marriage.

My sister and I spend the day together doing all the things we love, but mostly sitting and talking and being generally ridiculous in sibling fashion. The places we go during our whirlwind trip are all beloved: coffee shops, stores, my favorite taqueria, gardens, and all of these places are spots where I spent tons of time when I was married. One of the places is literally across the street from the house where my ex-husband and I lived.

Friends Essential Reads

The Importance of Close Friendships: We Are “Fra-mily”

Why the Best Friendships Feel Eternal

Going there year after year does not make me sad. Instead, this yearly ritual has reclaimed these places for me. I no longer associate them with an old relationship; I associate them with nothing other than my enjoyment of them, for what I can bring of my current self into those places. I was never one to visit places where my ex-husband and I shared special memories, but I stopped avoiding them, thanks to my annual sisterly pilgrimage. I’ve come to understand that you can move past the old memories and make new ones.

I'd encourage anyone to give this idea a try if there's a particular place you'd like to go to, but your memories have been preventing your return trip. As I contemplate attending the fundraiser, I feel more empowered to go, because it gives me the opportunity to liberate the physical space from my memory, to allow myself to move forward in the same place.