Newsweek: Travel as Post-breakup Therapy

I met my ex-boyfriend, four years my junior and charmingly French, on a dating app when I lived in San Diego. Our relationship contained the kind of magic that makes one think: This is how it's supposed to be.

We cooked together, cuddled on blankets in the grass, talked for hours, laughed often and appreciated and hated all the same things. My friends loved him. A few months into our relationship, he took me to Paris to meet his mother. Life was good.

But one day, following an unexpected betrayal, I had no choice but to end the relationship. I burst into tears as I felt my future crumbling before me. It sounds cliché, but I truly thought he was "the one." I called my friends and spent hours on the phone retelling the story. All of them were shocked. They had frequently told me how lucky I was to have a man who so obviously adored me.

During one particular call, a friend perked up as if she had the antidote to my grief.

"Come to Europe with us. We leave next Friday."