If you’re anything like me, you might find relationships both endlessly fascinating and a little unnerving. Growing up in a household where my abuelo swore by the love advice embedded in boleros and my father mostly communicated affection through home-cooked plantains, I learned early on that love is equal parts poetry and problem-solving. Yet no one really hands you a manual for navigating the many hills and valleys of modern partnership. So what happens when you suddenly find yourself — gasp — in the middle of a breakup? One of love's least glamorous milestones.

It’s messy. It’s raw. It’s like salsa dancing with no rhythm: awkward and painful.

But don’t worry — I’ve been there. In fact, I’ve been there with bongos playing in the background because the guy I was breaking up with thought adding a soundtrack would “soften the blow.” It didn’t work. What did work, eventually, was figuring out the difference between coping like a telenovela character (very dramatic, but not great for actual healing) and embracing what I like to call The Clean Emotional Sweep.

Here’s how you can take the lead in your own breakup dance — even when it feels like your heart has two left feet.

Step One: Let Yourself Feel the Feelings (Yes, All of Them)

There’s a reason my abuela never skipped a single episode of her favorite soap opera. The dramatics were cathartic. During my last breakup, I leaned hard into the Cuban ballads of my grandparents’ tape collection — the kind where someone sings about heartbreak so vividly, you can practically feel the room smell of cigar smoke and regret. I let myself cry while eating Croquetas de Jamón and shamelessly rewatched old rom-coms.

Here’s the thing: You don’t have to “bounce back” immediately. Emotions are not your enemy. Whether you’re feeling sad, angry, relieved, or all of the above, give yourself space to feel it to heal it. Bonus points if you do this while on a walk or writing in a journal. Or hey, maybe in the kitchen — kneading dough works wonders for heartbreak.

However, there’s a fine line between processing and wallowing. So, if you catch yourself Googling “witchcraft spells to make my ex rethink his life choices,” it may be time to move on to the next step.

Step Two: The “Social Media Spring Cleaning”

We live in an age where exes might not just haunt our memories — they’ll also pop up uninvited on our Instagram feeds, flexing their newfound CrossFit skills and overly curated sunsets. Tagging along on that emotional rollercoaster? No, thank you.

Do yourself a favor: mute, unfollow, or straight-up block if needed. It doesn’t have to be forever — just until your heart feels less like it’s being wrung out like a wet sponge. Don’t worry about what’s “petty” or “childish.” Protecting your sanity isn’t childish; it’s self-care.

And while you’re at it, avoid those tempting “one last peek” moments. Trust me, those midnight deep dives into an ex’s Twitter replies rarely end well. (Been there. Not fun.)

Step Three: Fill Your Love Tank — But Not With Rebounds

When I first heard the term love tank in high school, I thought it sounded like a bad game-show prize. But then I realized it simply means you have to find ways to pour love back into yourself. And here’s the kicker: you don’t need another person to fill it.

After one breakup that left me feeling particularly rattled, I started daily salsa lessons at a local studio. Not because I had some grand desire to show off at Miami’s Calle Ocho Festival (though I wouldn’t mind that), but because I needed to do something just for me. It was awkward at first (turns out, you can’t just blame your partner’s bad rhythm when it’s a solo situation), but eventually, it became a space where confidence bloomed again.

Find your thing — join a book club, learn to cook a difficult dish, try rock climbing, attempt to paint even if your artistic abilities max out at stick figures. Do something that reminds you that you are vibrant, capable, and full of interests beyond romantic love.

Step Four: Rewrite the Narrative

Here’s where my writer brain kicks in. After every breakup, there’s a temptation to sum up the relationship as either a tragic waste of time (Ugh, I can’t believe I spent two years loving a guy who thinks guac should cost extra) or to put your ex on an unearned pedestal (He was my soulmate; now I’m doomed forever).

Neither of these is true. Relationships are rarely all good or all bad. Instead, they’re lessons. They shape us, strengthen us, and sometimes expose the parts of us that need a little attention.

Try this reframing exercise: Write down three things you learned from the relationship. Maybe it’s how to communicate better, or the realization that you need someone who also loves blasting Bad Bunny on road trips. Whatever the takeaway is, thank the experience for what it taught you, then physically close the notebook. That chapter is done, amigo. On to the next.

Step Five: The Last Dance, aka Forgiveness

This one is tricky. Newscasts haven’t yet labeled forgiveness as a revolutionary act — but they should. Forgiving doesn’t mean what happened was okay, nor does it mean you need to text your ex for “closure” (spoiler: closure often lives inside you, not a conversation).

Forgiveness is for you, not them. It’s the process of releasing the emotional grip something holds on you. When I forgave my ex who once ghosted me after a seemingly perfect dinner date (yes, Jonathan, I’m still talking about that night), it wasn’t about excusing his behavior. It was about setting my heart free, letting it dance to its own rhythm again.

Wrapping It All Up: You’re the Lead, Always

Breakups are tough, no doubt about it. But like every good salsa dancer knows, the key to recovery isn’t in avoiding missteps but in finding your flow again. You’ll stumble, you’ll spin, and some days, you might just sit it out completely.

And that’s okay. Each step — awkward or elegant — brings you closer to becoming the most unshakable, confident version of yourself. So, dust off those proverbial dancing shoes, dive into the things that bring you joy, and trust that this, too, is part of the rhythm of life.

Oh, and if you do end up at a salsa class, save me a dance, won’t you?