After I put away my favorite, yet painful pair of shoes and accepted Mr. Seemingly Perfect’s second exit from my life, I resorted to the partying lifestyle and alcohol to fill the void that appeared like a black hole, waiting to suck the life out of me.While chardonnay and booze pacified me momentarily, they provided me with a comfort I regretted but craved. I went out an average of four times a week-each time with a new outfit and a different pair of shoes. And with every pair of shoes came a new guy. After a while, I realized I didn’t go out because I enjoyed it, and I didn’t date to find love. I simply wanted to keep busy so that I could defy the black hole while leaving little time to remember the past.

As soon as I had a beer in my hand, I felt my worries slip through my fingers. And after a while, the alcohol took over, followed by the same routine. You know how it goes:

First comes the high. Then after the spell of drunk-dialing and humiliating dancing, the buzz eventually comes to an end. You return home, aimlessly throw that pair of shoes back in the closet (or wherever they may land), undress out of your night’s attire, which is either drenched in alcohol or sweat, and ungracefully stumble into bed. And when you wake up, you realize your rise and fall from the night before has resulted in the worst hangover possible. Not to mention, you cannot, for the love of God, find that pair of shoes you so nonchalantly dismissed before retiring to bed.

Next comes the blatant attempts to consume homemade remedies in hopes of healing the headache and abating the nausea. But everyone knows the only thing that really cures a hangover is time. Popping pills and eating bread might alleviate the sickness for a short period, but more often than not, you find yourself back in bed, cursing the rum you had the night before.

This, of course, is just an example of how many drunken episodes have gone for various individuals-not just women. And if you haven’t had an experience even remotely close to the one I just described, then consider yourself lucky and somewhat sheltered.

And like this tacky, embarrassing morning-after incident, love can also mess with your head and make your stomach churn. Sometimes, you get so caught up that you become completely love-drunk. And after the relationship ends and you’ve accepted the loss, you sometimes find yourself trying to move on before you’re ready. You begin to date, party and have one-night stands-any twisted form of female therapy that might rectify the pain you still feel but wish you didn’t.

But like every hangover, the only thing that really heals a broken heart is time.

However, as women, we are genetically programmed to yearn for instant gratification. We sometimes do what makes us feel good now, without considering the long-term repercussions. We shop without thinking about what we spend; we drink without considering how much we consume (or how stupid it makes us look when we fall all over strange gentlemen and attempt gymnastic tricks on the dance floor in our shortest, skimpiest outfits) and we sleep with men just to feel wanted and desired, knowing we will never hear from them again.

And at the end of it all comes the downfall: the debt, the hangover, the unforgettable moment when you wake up next to a complete stranger and wonder what happened and where your underwear went, followed by the “walk of shame” out the door and to your car, questioning how the hell you got there to begin with.

I’m not saying this happens to all women. But I could probably bet that every person can relate to at least one of these vices somehow. And for those of you who have not had any of these experiences, I congratulate you on your ability to make wise decisions and act with the utmost perfection. Perhaps you have found a loophole to the ups and downs of womanhood. If only the rest of us led similarly faultless lives…

The truth is, I’ve dated men, had my nights out and drank until I found myself hunched over my friend’s front lawn. All in an attempt to make myself feel better and forget the past. But at the end of it all, I didn’t fix anything or erase any memories. I just wound up breaking hearts, wasting time and hurting myself. I will be the first to admit to these mistakes.

Those few months of rebellion were not my proudest moments or the highlight of my life, but sometimes, bad decisions and naiveté are what we need to wake up and accept things for what they are. And when the morning greets us with a hangover, skip the quick fixes, cross your fingers and wait for it to pass. Sooner or later, the hangover will come to an end. And over time, you’ll stop waking up sick and alone, and you’ll quit losing some really great pairs of shoes.