They say that breaking up is hard to do

I've been with my bank for a long time—10 years. They've been with me through a lot: the beginnings of my theatre business, my single greatest contract job, the end of one marriage, the beginning of another. They have been intimately acquainted with that most private and vulnerable side of me—my credit rating—and let me know they respected me, even after a day of crying and sharing and delving into places few have been before. They've been my rock.

But they've changed. Or maybe I have. I admit, my needs have evolved in the last number of years. There are more demands on my time, so our lunchtime meetings no longer meet my schedule. Their early, laidback attitude started to grate on me as I became more business-minded. All the homey, personal touches that seemed so quaint and comfortable became irritatingly inconvenient as my life became more complicated.

It's not like we didn't try. We both did. Once ended in an embarrassingly public screaming match that amounted to nothing.

I was doing something else online—I swear—when I noticed an article on another, bigger bank. Their colours were soothing yet dynamic. Bold, even. I liked their confidence. I looked closer. I asked around. I drove by the branch. It was beautiful—strong, solid, modern but with a definite cultural and historical grounding. And you know, people seem to like it. Really, really like it. So I called. I arranged a meeting. And then another.

Little by little, I started moving some of my things over to the bank. I wasn't committed yet, but it seemed, you know, prudent to maybe have a bit here for emergencies. I thought I'd see how they did with an automated payment or two. And then I had them organize my finances. I began to look forward to logging in and seeing the beauty and simplicity and security they offered me. And finally, we were both ready—they jumped in with me on my car loan and mortgage.

Meanwhile, I hadn't said anything to my bank. Oh, I'm sure they noticed that the deposits were coming less and less frequently and then not at all. They're no dummies—surely the lack of complaints must have tipped them off. And hopeful letters offering me short-term loans or status updates kept coming. And I ignored them, hoping they'd just get the hint.

Today, finally, I made it official. I was kept waiting—typical—and was ready to go on a full blown rant about all the reasons they let me down. But in the end, there was really nothing to say. I let them know I was going in a different direction. They let me know that, once this tie was severed, I could never come back. But I was OK with that. I feel like that is a part of my life that is over.

I'll always remember them fondly, like all my youthful loves. But I'm happy where I am now. I feel like it's a more mature relationship and one that I'm ready for.