I Am Rediscovering Me After You, And It’s A Beautiful Journey

I Am Rediscovering Me After You, And It's A Beautiful Journey She Rose Revolution
Photo by Patrick Carr on Unsplash

I was having a perfectly lovely day.

I sat down to check my emails, and as they loaded, there it was.

A flash in the bottom left corner, his face in my hangouts box.

He had updated his profile pic. I wanted to ignore it but I couldn’t. I needed to see it. There was something colourful in the background; and I just had to know where he was and what he was doing, and of course, wondering who he was with.

Luckily for me, I am a web developer (I say this with pride, as he always told me what I wasn’t). Getting into the code and finding a larger image was no big shakes.

Ah, I see, he was standing in front of some graffiti I’ve seen him post before. Alone and sulking, with his usual sad boy stare. I hated him at that moment. Hated that he even existed. Hated that he could still make me feel… anything.

He has no right.

I went back and removed him from my list so it couldn’t happen again; the uninvited invasion into my mind.

I felt so violated. My mind reeling with the thoughts of who he’s trying to impress, what woman he’s chatting with. Whoever she is, I hope she runs far and fast. I hope no woman ever goes through what I or those before me endured.

He is evil.

Not because he’s mentally ill, not because he is broken and disturbed; but because he knows it and chooses to continue on destroying others and not seeking help. He is perfectly fine being the monster he is. He enjoys it. And he gets off on it. It is literally the thing that makes him smile.

Yet here I am, my heart still broken and aching over the life I envisioned. The life I built trying to make him happy. All I ever wanted was for him to feel loved and cared for, to feel accepted and welcome, I wanted him to be a part of everything that was important to me.

Instead, he resented me for my ability to love. He made me feel worthless and small. I felt like I was becoming invisible in my own home.

Fuck that noise.

I am no one’s doormat. I did not live through loss and torment my whole life, to escape and wind up in another hell. No.

I am strong and capable. I am a woman, a mother, a business owner. And I am loving, kind, nurturing and full of grace. Those things do not make me weak. He is the last man who will ever mistake my strengths for weaknesses; the last person who will ever take advantage of the beautiful pieces of me.

I am sad, I am angry; but I am healing.

In that healing, I am becoming stronger than I ever have been. I will not become bitter, or cold. I will not live in isolation swearing off men or relationships.

What I am doing is rediscovering me, what I enjoy, what makes me happy and whole.

I am getting used to the sound of my own laughter again, I am finding joy in the fun of being flirtatious. I am creating works of art and forming new friendships.

My life is fuller than it ever has been. I can’t wait to see where this path takes me.

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