What Is March Theory, and Why Is It Cuffing Season?

I think these next few lines are going to haunt me forever, but that’s what I’m here for, and so are you, reading this. Relationships are unbelievably scary. In March, I came out of my first real long-term relationship, and I completely lost myself. One evening, I sat in complete silence, hovering my finger over his name and the call button, and I hadn’t even realised it had already gone dark outside. I didn’t call him that night. I locked my phone and turned on the lights in the flat we used to share. I put on our favourite film and forced myself to sit through it. I’m glad I did, and maybe I’ll make it a slightly messed-up tradition.

I’m happy to blame this breakup on the ever-cursed ‘March theory’, as my friend told me to, but at the time I blocked the phrase from all my social media because I thought it was ridiculous and didn’t believe in it. Not that I believe in it now or find it any less ridiculous, I just no longer care. I’ve accepted that it simply happened in March, theory or not.

Losing myself angered me in so many ways. Of course I had my crying sessions with friends on the sofa, the sleepless nights, and the journal manifestations wishing I could reverse time and fix everything. I’ve since burnt those journals because I never want to go back there. I never want to feel as though someone other than me holds my entire self-worth and heart in their hands. Losing myself during that time haunts me in such a silly way that the only thing that snapped me out of it was calling myself a bad feminist for letting a man, and a breakup, make me feel like that and distract me from how incredible I actually am.

A while ago I read Dolly Alderton’s Everything I Know About Love, and her line about female friendships would replay in my head until suddenly I’d catch myself smiling ear to ear and laughing with my girlfriends over dinner — a joy I didn’t think I’d find again, because I thought only he could give me that kind of happiness.

What I’m trying to say is that I give myself that happiness. Just me.

March theory, put simply, is the idea that big changes — whether good or bad — are due to happen in your romantic life during March. This can mean new relationships, breakups, or arguments, as it’s said to be a crucial time for changing bad habits. I still think it’s ridiculous, but I also understand how comforting it can be to put a label or a reason on a situation to distance yourself from the truth. You didn’t break up in March because of an unqualified theory — you broke up because he’s immature, or he cheated, or because she doesn’t want the future you want, or because the distance became too much. These things can happen in January or June too — March is a coincidence, not a cosmic rule.

Now, to contradict myself and my dislike of these TikTok theories, I can get behind cuffing season. Hear me out. It’s getting colder, it’s getting dark earlier, and going out in the freezing weather is a pain. The perfect solution is a partner — someone to share a bed with so it warms up quicker, someone to walk with in the dark so you’re not alone and scared. No need to go out; just stay in with a blanket, a film, and someone to cuddle. This I can support entirely, mostly because it’s a positive take, unlike March theory’s negativity. It reinforces the idea that breakups happen because a relationship simply wasn’t meant to be — and that’s something we all need to navigate in our own time, being gentle with ourselves as we do.

Refusing to fully fall for March theory, or the four-year theory, or the spring or summer theories — because yes, I looked into all of them to make myself feel better — allowed me to start rediscovering myself. I gave myself space to feel, truly feel, and to sit in this pool of heartbreak. I allowed myself to fall back into me — not ‘the girlfriend’, not ‘oh, what was your name again?’, not ‘you’re prettier than he said’ — just me. Myself and my self-worth. I fell back in love with my laugh, my humour, my taste in music, my cooking, my everything.

Regardless, I will be skipping March in 2026.

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