Moving On: Faith after Evangelicalism

I’m so over him! she sobbed, I’m moving on! confirming that she hadn’t even begun the process of “moving on.” Theirs had been love at first sight—butterflies of infatuation assured her that she had found “Mister Right”—or, “the One” as she liked to call him. How had it come to this? Not worth recounting, though she rehearsed the melt-down every sleepless night. If she was truly “so over him,” why couldn’t she let go and just move on? Instead, she alternated between depression and panic, fits of rage and fountains of tears. “Over him?” Not as long as her identity was tied to his, even by resentme...