Break-ups are generally awful. A few people in my life have been experiencing a break-up in some way or other lately, and as someone who is never shy about discussing their personal life, I find that I am being asked how I survived my last break-up. Like, a lot.

The thing is, I grew up watching American sitcoms where break-ups were dramatic, gut-wrenching affairs with broken glassware, screamed accusations, and hysterical crying in the rain and/or car. For those of us with the privilege to live in an affluent society like Australia, break-ups are sometimes the closest we come to a cataclysmic life-event. And when you’re gay and you don’t really get to experience break-ups until your 20s, there’s a whole added layer of angst and drama.

So, when my last relationship drew to a close with an amicable split that bordered on Brady Bunch levels of polite; I found myself a little lost to say the least. Where does the pent-up release of emotional energy that comes from a break-up go if there’s no explosion?

The answer isn’t an exact science, but several years on and in the flush of a relatively new romance, I feel like I am in a better position to provide you with my 7-Step Break-up Survival Guide. Because I survived the world’s politest break-up and now, I think I am some sort of expert, apparently.

DISCLAIMER: While I am old, I am by no means wise, and these ‘steps’ need to be taken with a potentially lethal pinch of salt. At the very least this might give you a laugh.

Step 1 – Read Elegance by Kathleen Tessaro. I have actually read this book maybe 20 times. It is sort of a precis on surviving a break-up in a very British sort of way. I love this book. It sounds dumb to say this aloud, but it changed my life.

Step 2 – Forcibly create a crush on someone the exact opposite of your previous paramour. Even better if that person exhibits traits your paramour openly detested. My post break-up fixation was a muscled, smartly dressed red head with a HUGE ginger bush-ranger beard and waxed moustache.

Step 3 – Instead of torturing yourself about why things didn’t work; tell yourself instead “It is what it is”. Over, and over, and over again. Make it a bloody mantra. Say it about everything. “Aww man, it’s raining!” “It is what it is.” “I’m sorry your relationship ended.” “It is what it is.” “So that’s two sweet chilli Twisters, one in a combo – upsized with Mountain Dew as the drink, and a ten-pack of Wicked Wings. Is that the lot?” “It is what it is.”

Step 4 – Become obsessed with becoming independent to an uncomfortable degree. Obsess about being financially sound. Try to comprehend things like mortgages, negative gearing, superannuation and other pointless buzzwords of adulthood that you actually don’t care about, but will make you seem like more of a together adult if you can figure out how to drop them into conversations properly.

Step 5 – Ease yourself back into dating by starting up a new relationship with a food delivery service. Menulog and I had dinner a couple of nights a week for 12-18 months. It was the only app that delivered to my suburb. Like most people in a new relationship, I spent all my money on dates with Menulog, and I put on 15 ‘happy kilos’.

Step 6 – Miss your ex. It’s OK to do so. Just do it privately and weirdly.

Step 7 – Think a lot, like an obscene amount, to a point that is probably unhealthy; about how your next boyfriend is going to be a Werewolf.