To My Abusive Ex: I Refuse To Let You Ruin All Men For Me

There are times, usually before I’m about to fall asleep when I can’t escape the memories of the abuse I called love.

In the darkness and silence, I can hear your broken words. I can see your sarcastic face. I can feel your unwanted hands making their way over my skin, even when I’m disgusted.

In these moments, I feel angry, but I’m not angry with you.
I don’t feel anything for you anymore. It’s myself that I fear I may never forgive.

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I let you call me “crazy” when I express anger or sadness. I let you tell me that my interests and emotions didn’t matter, that I only deserved your “love” when I transformed myself into someone you thought was better.

This is still not enough. She didn’t want love, she wanted control.

With my naivety and lack of experience, I allowed you to take it from me.

“I own you,” you used to say, pinning me to the ground and staring at me while I tried to walk away. “I own you.”

That was the moment I should have walked out, but I didn’t. I convinced myself that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. You didn’t mean it the way it sounded.

All my life, I have been a proud feminist. I promised myself that no one would compromise my fierce independence.

I thought I had everything in place to prevent someone like you from entering my life, but somehow you slipped through the gaps like the snake you truly are. I was only 17, and you are much older, I saw a naive girl who you knew you could fool.

For over a year, I let you carve tiny cracks in my self-esteem until it shattered like glass. I let you convince me that if I loved you, I would “get over it” and have sex with you even when I wasn’t ready.

Even after our toxic relationship finally ended, she found another way to haunt me.

I was finally starting to realize the real you behind all your lies and gaslighting, and I refused to give you another chance when you asked for one. Through your pathetic sobs, you said incredulously: “I thought you loved me so much that I could do anything for you.”

I forced my face to remain still, but deep down I knew you were right.

The manipulative need to gain your approval that I thought was love blinded me, and I hated myself for it.

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Years passed and new men came with them. Not always, but often they had good intentions. They showered me with compliments, introduced me to their families, and tried everything they could think of to prove themselves to me.

But no matter how much I was drawn to them, all I could think was: “What am I missing?”

I swore to myself that I would never miss such glaring red flags as I did with you, so I analyzed every word, every touch, and every look from these men, always keeping them at arm’s length until they finally faded away.

It wasn’t until I met my current boyfriend that things slowly started to change.

To this day, I don’t know why, but I felt like I could trust him with all the horrors I had been through, and how hard it was for me to open myself up to anyone new.

I knew he wanted to be with me, but all he said was, “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”