I was 25 years old, sitting alone in my car outside of my parents’ bakery in Hialeah, drenched in a panic sweat that rivaled August humidity in South Florida. My heart pounded like the drumline at Calle Ocho, and in one hand, clutched so tightly that my knuckles turned pale, was an engagement ring.

No, I wasn’t getting engaged. I was breaking up.

Yes, with someone who had already met my entire family—including the cousin who makes everyone take salsa lessons at every family party. This wasn’t just a breakup. This was a potential secession from an entire social ecosystem woven so tightly together by pastelitos and unsolicited life advice that I couldn’t imagine severing one string without unraveling the whole thing. Welcome to the Cuban American Family Dating Experience™.

And yet, that day, I knew I had to do it. Nothing—I repeat, nothing—tests a person quite like walking away from a relationship that just isn’t serving them anymore. It’s messy, it’s gut-wrenching, and it often feels impossible. But guess what? You can survive it—and even come out stronger on the other side. Here’s what I learned.

The Warning Signs: AKA, When the Croquetas Start to Feel Cold

We’d been together for about two years, and on paper, it all seemed fine. She was sweet, smart, close with her family—someone my mother whispered about approvingly during mass. But slowly, that spark faded, like Cuban coffee left sitting out too long. Familiarity turned into predictability, which isn’t romantic, it’s just... monotonous.

I excused it at first. Real love isn’t always fireworks, right? But then, little things started to feel off. I’d pause before responding to a text. We’d sit through entire meals in relative silence. She’d laugh at my jokes, but it felt polite—like she was humoring me in the same way abuelos humor your career choices.

Truth is, I ignored my gut for longer than I should have, largely because of fear. What if it was supposed to feel like this? What if I’d never find anything better? These thoughts felt paralyzing. And if you’ve ever been through something similar, you might be nodding right now. First lesson: When the gut starts sending smoke signals, don’t dismiss it.

Preparing for the Big Moment: A Boxing Match… with Feelings

Breaking up with someone isn’t as simple as the rom-com montage where one party tearfully moves out to the backdrop of Adele. It’s clumsy and awkward, like trying to eat arroz con frijoles in a white shirt. Still, I knew I couldn’t ghost her. Nothing screams “emotionally undeveloped” quite like vanishing into thin air.

I started by rehearsing my breakup speech. Yes, like I was delivering the State of the Union. (Pro tip: Please do this. Think Obama-levels of preparation.) These were the key points I kept front of mind:

  1. Be honest without being cruel - Don’t sugarcoat, but don’t go scorched earth either. Example: “I just don’t feel like we’re growing together” is a reasonable explanation. “You make me feel like I’m missing out on better options” is not.

  2. Make it clear it’s final - This isn’t the time to give mixed signals. Be compassionate but firm. Phrases like “I think we should see other people” or “I can’t give you what you need” leave less room for interpretation.

  3. Own up to your role - Relationships are rarely one-sided. Acknowledge the ways you may not have shown up 100%, and don’t shift all the blame.

I practiced in the mirror like I was about to present a PowerPoint. Charisma on, tears off.

The Fallout: Everything Feels Like a Bad Telenovela

The conversation itself was heavy. I cried. She cried. We both apologized for things we hadn’t even done. At one point, I used an analogy about dominoes to explain my feelings (don’t ask). She asked if we could stay friends, and while I meant it when I said, “Not right now, but maybe later,” it felt like I was watching my entire past fall out of my hands.

But you know the part that really caught me off guard? The aftershock. It wasn’t just her sadness I had to deal with—it was the ripple effect. If you’ve ever dated within a close-knit family or cultural community, you know that breaking up with someone doesn’t stop at the two of you. It’s a family event. Suddenly, my aunt was interrogating me like I had smuggled embargoed goods into Miami. My little sister scolded me for ruining the “cutest couple Instagram posts in our family history.” My mom gave me the “Pero, Raúl…” look so often that I considered hiding out in Tallahassee for a few weeks.

For people of any background, that pressure to preserve harmony—or avoid awkward explanations—can make breaking up feel unbearable. But here’s the thing: these folks love you. They’re allowed to be disappointed, but ultimately, they’ll come around. And if not, they weren’t in the relationship with you to begin with.

Healing: Lessons in Empanadas and Self-Love

Spoiler: I survived. And so will you.

I spent the weeks after the breakup rediscovering myself. It sounds cheesy, like something you’d see on a Pinterest motivational board, but truly—there’s something liberating about reclaiming your own time and energy. For me, that meant leaning back into habits I’d neglected. I wrote every morning again. I helped out at the bakery more often, folding guava pastelitos while chatting with regulars. (There’s nothing more grounding than hearing a 70-year-old call you “mijo” on a Tuesday.)

Here are the practical strategies that helped:

  • Give yourself a timeline to grieve, then stay busy. It’s okay to wallow in your feelings for a week or two. Watch “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” Eat the ice cream. But after that, fill your time. Take a class, journal, or call up an old friend. Motion shifts emotion.

  • Avoid “breakup nostalgia” traps. You know the ones: rereading texts, scrolling through their Instagram, or—worst of all—drunk texting them at 1 a.m. Block them if you need to. Close that door.

  • Rebuild your confidence in steps. Whether it’s hitting the gym (cliché, but effective), picking up a new hobby, or just loving yourself in the mirror with confidence-boosting affirmations, focus on you.

At the end of the day, you’re stronger than you think. Walking away from something you’ve outgrown doesn’t make you a quitter—it makes you brave.

Closing Thoughts

Breaking up isn’t easy—it’s a full-on, white-knuckle rollercoaster ride with more dips and turns than you signed up for. But you come out of it with a deeper understanding of what you need, what you deserve, and who you’re becoming.

So if you’re sitting there, holding your proverbial engagement ring of a relationship that’s run its course, take a deep breath. You’ve got this. Someday, you’ll look back on this moment—not in regret, but gratitude for having the courage to choose yourself.

And if all else fails, there’s always a pastelito at the end of the tunnel. Trust me.