The Incredible “Museum of Broken Relationships” That Displays Objects Submitted By Exes

There are a lot of weird museums. And when i say a lot, i do mean a lot. From the Museum of Funeral Carriages in Barcelona to the Phallus Museum in Iceland, whatever your preferred subject might be, chances are there’s a museum dedicated to it.

After reading this article though, i’m sure you’ll agree with me that one of the most bizarre museums out there, has to be this one located in Zagreb, Croatia.

The museum is called “The Museum of Broken Relationships” and it exclusively displays personal objects that were meaningful to heartbroken exes. Exhibits include innocent teddy bears, kinky underwear and… spooky axes! Every item has a story to tell and here are some of them along with their description: (the article continues after the ad)


She was the first woman that I let move in with me. All my friends thought I needed to learn to let people in more. A few months after she moved in, I was offered to travel to the US. She could not come along. At the airport we said goodbye in tears, and she was assuring me she could not survive three weeks without me. I returned after three weeks, and she said: “I fell in love with someone else. I have known her for just 4 days, but I know that she can give me everything that you cannot.” I was banal and asked about her plans regarding our life together. The next day she still had no answer, so I kicked her out. She immediately went on holiday with her new girlfriend while her furniture stayed with me. Not knowing what to do with my anger, I finally bought this axe at Karstadt to blow off steam and to give her at least a small feeling of loss – which she obviously did not have after our break-up. In the 14 days of her holiday, every day I axed one piece of her furniture. I kept the remains there, as an expression of my inner condition. The more her room filled with chopped furniture acquiring the look of my soul, the better I felt. Two weeks after she left, she came back for the furniture. It was neatly arranged into small heaps and fragments of wood. She took that trash and left my apartment for good. The axe was promoted to a therapy instrument.


It was 1959, I was ten, T. was eleven. We were very much in love. When I told my mother we had gone skinny dipping in the canal, I got my ears boxed and was sent to spend the rest of the school holidays with an aunt. When I was fifteen, we had more wonderful times together until he moved to Germany with his parents. Our goodbye came with many tears and promises. We would write every week and never marry anyone else. It was 1998 and I had just stopped working in prostitution. I wanted to write a book about S&M and was going to work for a dominatrix for a few weeks. On the second day, the dominatrix allowed me to belittle and whip a client. First I made him lick my stilettos. Because he wasn’t submissive enough and had the nerve to address me with ‘mistress’ (instead of ‘high mistress’), I wanted to whip him harder. And that was when I recognised him, ‘T., is that you?’ He was startled and stood up. At once we were back in 1966. He told me he had the desire to be submissive because his father had often beaten him as a child. T. was now in his second marriage, and he wanted to make it work. It was better we never saw each other again. After a few hours we said our goodbyes, and he asked, ‘Can I keep one of your stilettos as a memento?’ When he walked out the door, it felt like my stiletto-less foot was no longer mine.


You talked to me of love and presented me with small gifts every day; this is just one of them. The key to the heart. You turned my head; you just did not want to sleep with me. I realized just how much you loved me only after you died of AIDS.

You can see more exhibits on the museums’ website.

* As of 2016, a second Museum of Broken Relationships was opened in Los Angeles.

If you like what you read, then you will definitely love this one: These Underwater Sculptures Will Blow Your Mind

Main Article Photo: Museum of Broken Relationships
Photoshop: I’m A Useless Info Junkie
Sources: Museum of Broken Relationships

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