How To Love An Insecure Woman

Being called insecure is always used as one of the worst ways to criticize or hurt a woman, like being called “needy” or “crazy,” we get branded with this label because men cannot handle giving a little bit more in a relationship, or having to mature and accept that we are not always the type who will down ten shots and flash anybody that happens to be looking.

We are talked down to and tarnished because we feel pain, because we have been hurt multiple times and somewhere along the way just accepted that we are less than, not as deserving, not worthy.

We are forever comparing ourselves to the perfect women on TV and in movies, in the magazines and those filtered photo-shopped selfies on Instagram. We wonder why in the hell we weren’t born with a body or a face like that. And not only that, with social media allowing us to dive into the past, we get to compare ourselves to your exes, random sluts, and even hear stories about your sexual history before we came along and we are constantly living in this spiral of comparisons. Truth is, being insecure does not make someone a terrible girlfriend or wife, it does not make her “exhausting” or “unfixable” or “too much work.” It makes her human, it makes her a product of her environment and experiences and makes her want to be the best that she can be.

Loving an insecure woman quite simply means having a heart and learning to see the world through her eyes. And I’m not saying it will be easy, I am not saying the fears will always be rational, but to her they are the most real thing in the world; they are the truth.

So when she catches you staring at another woman and she makes a comment or goes instantly quiet before eventually finding the words to tell you why she is withdrawn, do not belittle her, do not even deny it, quite simply tell her she is the only girl for you, that she is more beautiful than anyone who passes you. Something as simple as a comment of reassurance goes so far to a woman struggling to love herself, and in all honesty, it’s what she needs. She needs to know she is wanted.

When she questions you about your past or tells you that it makes her uncomfortable to see that you are still friends with someone you have a past with or that you liked one of their pictures, do not lash out, do not call her “crazy” or belittle her, pull her in close and remind her how much you care about her and how much you want her. Reassurance is the absolute only thing that can resolve insecurity issues. Make her feel noticed, special and adored. Never use her insecurities against her; never make her feel bad for having them in the first place.

Because before you, someone made her doubt herself and her worth. Someone failed to compliment her on the days she needed it most and pushed her fears to one side, someone failed to stand up and be the man she needed, the man she deserved. And in loving you, in trusting you will not be the same she is giving you a chance; a chance to prove that she is worthy, that her insecurities are not a deal-breaker, that someone will listen to her, reassure her and promise her that no matter how hard it gets you will not give up on her. Pay attention to those quiet moments when her thoughts are somewhere else and pull her close to you when all she needs is the comfort of your skin against hers.

Insecure women are not “damaged” or “broken,” they have just been silenced by those who are not willing to listen or accept responsibility for shitty actions or quite simply say “sorry.” They are the brave ones, the ones who still accept love, still try to make things work, still hope to find someone worth trusting. And more than that, they know how to love because they would never want anyone to feel the way they do. They would never want to chip away at a person. So love them back, love them for all of their beauty, their fearlessness, their courage. Love them, even when they cannot love themselves, even when they push you away, even when it means serious conversations late into the night.

Love them, because being insecure is not the worst thing a woman can be.



When She Needs Reassurance

To be in a relationship means you’ll have to sacrifice. You’ll have to work at it everyday, because that’s what you do when you truly love someone.

You don’t have to question her love, that’s given. You can see it on her face. You can see it in the way she looks at you, and the way her eyes light up when she talks about you. And when she’s with you, she looks at you like you two are the only ones in the room.

She’s still a girl who’s been through so much though, and she needs to be reassured. Its the little things that matter to her, not flowers or dates, or even money. She just wants effort and your affection. 

Its never been easy for her to let people in. Every hello for her has ended in a goodbye and it tears her apart. But somehow she fought for that doubt and every reason why she shouldn’t for you. She took the risk of being scared out her mind, and the chance of being hurt because the connection she felt with you, it was unlike anything that she had ever felt before.

She’s been in toxic relationships, its all she’s known. She’s been hurt. She’s been betrayed. She’s been kicked when she was already down. She’s been abused. So its normal that she’s going to handle things differently than a girl who has been through nothing would.

She’s a fighter. She keeps fighting though, because she is the kind of girl who doesn’t want to live in her past. She doesn’t want to allow her past to stop her from living her future.

The future that she sees with you.

But she needs to be reassured. She needs to know that you care about her. She needs to feel wanted. She needs to know you are not going to go anywhere no matter how bad things might get. She needs to know that she’s worth fighting for.

She knows she isn’t perfect, she has a lot to work on, but she strives for that every single day. She asks herself all the time how she can be better to you, because she feels like you deserve more than what she can give you.

Maybe you didn’t sign up for this, but neither did she. She does not choose this. She doesn’t choose to feel like this. So realize that above everything else. She loves you, and she tries her best.

She overthinks.

She overreacts.

She can be insecure at times.

She even has a lot of doubts.

All of that though, its only a reaction of the things that she’s been through. She knows you are different, and you’re not like anyone else.

The thing is though even though she doesn’t let the past control her, it will always be with her.

So just reassure her, this is just as hard for her as it is you.


You Were Just A Douchebag In Disguise.

I’m just going to dedicate and or direct this to my favorite guy that was really good at playing the nice guy card and fooling me into thinking I had found a diamond in the rough. When really it just turns out you’re fantastic at pretending to be the good guy because you’re really just a douche.

I’m going to mark this one down as another lesson learned. A really unfair and crappy lesson to learn by the way. You’ve taught me what to look for though, in regards to the traits and types of men I need to steer clear of.

You opened up and let me in, briefly, and I trusted you with things I didn’t share with many people because I thought you were different. Ha, I guess the real joke was and is on me. You wanted me when it was convenient for you, which is a dickish move.

I thought maybe things could change, we could do it your way for awhile and something would click inside that head of yours. That hiding somewhere inside of you was this romantic version of you that would come out and re-sweep me off my feet. That would stop feeding me these “I’m better off single” lines or “I can’t give you what you want” crap.

I made countless excuses for you and your behavior towards me to my friends. They told me what you were doing wasn’t fair to me. They told me to tell you to fuck off, to stop playing with my emotions. They told me I deserve better.

You know what? They’re absolutely 100% correct.

I do deserve better. 

You made me feel bad for caring. Who does that? I apologized for worrying about you, for sharing my emotions with you. I let you make me feel needy and burdensome. I let you wear me down into thinking I wasn’t going to be anything more than a girl you just sleep with and leave the next day.

However, the only person I should really be apologizing to is myself. I should apologize to my heart for letting it get pulled through the ringer again. I should apologize for letting it go on for so long. I should apologize to myself for letting me think that there was something wrong with me, something that made me undesirable and unlovable.

I’d tell my friends they’re right and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to them sooner, because I know they were just trying to save me some tears and heartbreak.

I don’t regret you, I’ve said that so many times and I really don’t. We had some great times together. I however,  know that I’m coming out on top in this situation, so the jokes on you. I’m a stronger woman for what has transpired between us.

There’s this moment that kind of clicks when you realize you’re not crazy or in the wrong for wanting more from the person whom you’re romantically involved with. It may have taken me longer to get there, but it’s okay cause I’m there now.

You see, I can look at my reflection in the mirror and I see a beautiful, intelligent, funny, sarcastic, kick-ass woman who is going to do great things. More importantly, I see a girl who doesn’t need you. I wonder what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror. I’m pretty sure you’re so far into the charades that the real you is lost.

The difference now is that I see through all that bs and I’m no longer fooled.

There may be a time when you’ll miss me, some sort of light bulb will click, but don’t worry I’ll be okay. I learned from the best on how to only care about myself. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

So thanks for the tips.


The girl who sees right through you and is no longer impressed.

If I Didn’t Have Anxiety.

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. And I’ve had it since middle school, without even realizing what was going on with me. I just remember worrying all the time and stressing about things that other kids my age didn’t even think about.

My journey with this illness has been a bumpy road, to say the very least. I go through months without any symptoms, feeling carefree and happy. And then all of a sudden it hits me like lightning, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

It’s a very scary and smart disorder. Why? It makes you think things you wouldn’t normally think about. Thoughts pop into your head and you can’t make it stop. Your heart races and you can’t swallow any oxygen at all. And no matter how many times it happens, it’s still just as scary for me.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I would wake up every day with a clear head. I wouldn’t mindlessly go through my imaginary checklist, already overwhelmed about the day ahead of me.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I could go on more road trips and vacations and concerts without a care in the world. I wouldn’t have to worry about car crashes, about feeling claustrophobic, about getting freaked out over overstimulation.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I could breathe. Really breathe. With no sharp inhales. With no pain in my chest. With no panic. With no real energy lost.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I wouldn’t have to wake up the next day after drinking, already panicking about what I did or didn’t do. Already worrying. About nothing.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I’d be a more supportive friend and companion and daughter. I’d answer all the phone calls and texts. I wouldn’t cancel the plans that I was so looking forward to. I wouldn’t be misunderstood.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I’d have better self esteem. I wouldn’t question my ability to write. I wouldn’t question myself as a person. I wouldn’t question my self worth and ability to love. I would just be content with just me.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I wouldn’t have to call my parents in the middle of an anxiety attack, begging for them to pick me up just to feel a little bit safer.

If I didn’t have anxiety, my brightest days would glow in the back of my mind for eternity. I wouldn’t have to walk around with a grey cloud following me around just waiting to pounce on me.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I wouldn’t be judged. Be judged by people who don’t understand. Who don’t understand that this is an illness. It’s a chemical imbalance in my brain that I cannot help.

If I didn’t have anxiety, I wouldn’t have to even explain myself every time I meet someone new or have to walk out early. I wouldn’t have to defend myself over something that is out of my control.

 But here’s the thing —If I didn’t have anxiety, I wouldn’t be as strong as I am right now. I wouldn’t be as resilient and as brave. And I guess you could say, I wouldn’t even be me.


To The Boy Who Emotionally Destroyed Me.

I want you to imagine this: a girl sitting on her bedroom floor, dry-heaving, her body convulsing with each failed attempt at silencing the sobs, banging her fists onto the ground as she tried to make sense of it all. Now, I want you imagine my face because that girl was me, and I was never good enough for you. I was constantly coming second to dozens of other girls. You made me feel completely worthless. You emotionally ruined me.

I don’t hate you, though. Instead I want to thank you.

Despite it taking me months, I finally realized that it wasn’t me not being good enough for you, but you not being good enough for me. These words have resonated with me for some time, and I am constantly reminding myself that I deserve better than the distorted perception of love that was handed to me on a tarnished silver platter. I deserve better than being ignored, I deserve better than being manipulated, and I deserve better than you.

I know I’m not the same girl that was on my bedroom floor that night, because I would never give someone complete power over me where I lost control; complete power over me where I felt I was worthless.

I was consumed by nothing but negativity, and for a while I thought you were my only source of light. I was drowning and every single day I woke up and hoped your hand would pull me up to the surface and save me. I was wrong. That night was the night I realized your hand was never there to save me, but instead there to push me deeper below the surface. The only hand I needed was my own.

You were my darkness and it took me too long to realize this.

I know you’re a good person, but next time you ask yourself what it was you ever did to me I want you to think of the girl crying on her bedroom floor. I want you to think of the girl that couldn’t sleep because the nightmares were worse than reality, which had become her own personal hell. I want you to think of the girl who couldn’t eat because she had no appetite from the anxiety caused from thinking she did something wrong. I want you to think of the girl who hated herself so much she had to force herself to get up in the morning, only to crawl back into bed hours later. I want you to think of the girl who had countless silent breakdowns, hoping her friends wouldn’t notice. I want you to think of all the things you never saw, all the things you never experienced, all the things that were kept hidden.

And now I want you to think of the person I have become. I have to force happiness. I have to constantly seek validation from others that I am worthy. The thought of someone touching me literally makes me cringe. However, despite all that, I am thankful you were a part of my life, because you became the best and worst thing to happen to me.

I do hope you’re happy, and just know I don’t regret you. I would never wish for you to experience the same hell as me. Thank you for engulfing me in darkness, thank you for helping me grow, and thank you for pushing me further below the surface. Too many great things have come from that darkness. Too many great things have come from you.

Before You Cheat On Her.

Before you cheat, know this:

You will break her.
Like the violent shattering of glass as it crashes to the ground.

You will not just break her heart.
You will break her trust.
You will break her spirit.
You will break her joy.
You will break her belief in love.
You will break her sense of self.

Before you cheat, know this:

She will not sleep—not through the night, as she counts the cracks in the walls at 3 am, seeking answers from a God she didn’t think she believed in.

She will not eat—not by choice, but because she can’t stomach her reality or the thoughts of texts and images that haunt the corners of her mind.
She will not smile—not because there’s nothing to smile for, but because she doesn’t know what these things are anymore.

Before you cheat, know this:

It will teach her to hear “You are beautiful,” as “but not beautiful enough.”
It will teach her to hear “You are smart,” as “but not smart enough.”
It will teach her to hear “You mean the world to me,” as “but one person is not enough.”
It will teach her to hear “You are the love of my life,” as “but I don’t love you enough.”

It will teach her to hear “You are enough,” as “but you are still not good enough to satisfy me.”

Before you cheat, know this:

She will cry.
She will sit at her desk until 7:30 pm too embarrassed by tears streaming silently down her face to get up and go.
She will curl into a ball on her best friend’s living room floor, cheek pressed into the carpet—and rather than tell her to get up, he will sit down next to her and say, “I’m here.”
She will get a lump in her throat anytime she walks past places that used to be yours until she decides to avoid these places entirely.

She will rage.
She will snap at friends, family and colleagues for no apparent reason at all. When they are stung by her anger, her cheeks will burn red with shame.

She will curse at her reflection as she’s brushing her teeth, and think if only she were prettier, funnier, smarter—if only she were more, it would have made a difference.
She will throw a picture frame at the wall, and be too dumbfounded to clean the blood off her finger when she cuts it picking up the pieces.

She will scream into the wind by the river, wondering what she did to deserve feeling this way, hoping her words will carry far enough to be heard by someone—anyone—who can tell her.

She will not feel.
She will be turned by shock into the same stone she uses to build walls to keep people out.

She will be numbed in new ways that her hopeful heart had not known to be possible.

And then she will feel everything at once.
She will feel devalued, discarded, disassembled, disillusioned, distraught—she will feel bewildered and betrayed.
She will feel foolish, frenetic, fraught and full of fear.
She will feel hate—toward you, toward them, toward herself.
She will choke on her own confusion as she tries to hold on, yet yearns to let go.

Before you cheat, know this:

She believed in you.
She believed in romance—and that a chivalrous manner meant chivalry in all manners of the heart.
She believed in honesty—and that being honest with your partner first meant being honest with yourself.
She believed in respect—and that a love respected meant not being gaslighted, nor played a fool.
She believed in goodness—and that being good meant working on being good together, even when it was not easy to do.
She believed you would protect her—and that being protected did not mean hiding the truth.
She believed in you—and that believing in you, believing in each other, meant the mutual support of a two-person team through the ups, downs and everything in between.

Before you cheat, know this:

These are all avoidable.
You have a choice.
You can choose to walk away.
You can choose to let her leave, on her own accord.
You can give her a choice.

But if you cheat, know this:

You will break her, but she will grow back stronger.

You will dim her light, but she will shine more brightly in the dark.

You will lower her expectations, but she will raise her standards.
You will cause her to hate, but she will find relief, release, and beauty in the breakdown.
You will make her question her sanity, but she will learn to trust her own intuition better than before.

You will crush her ideas of love, but she will never settle again.

You will burn her world to the ground, but she will pour her heart into becoming the best person she can be—and this time, it won’t be for you; it will be for her.

I Thought I Moved On.

I thought I moved on; I haven’t been missing you– but sometimes, I hear a song come on about heartbreak or see a joke we used to laugh about and I feel vacant all over again. That is not moving on, and oh God, I think I’m far from it. I know we sometimes fought, but we made up every time. When I looked at you, I felt powerful. I felt really fucking powerful.

It was like snorting a line of coke, and if I’m being honest, I’d rather be sky high than home feeling so fucking used and washed up. Baby, I hope you know you’ve made a mistake.

I’m more than aware that I am problems simply existing in human skin, but you weren’t aware of what I would have done, You couldn’t see me past my anxiety and insecurities, but oh fuck, I was so much more. I was suffering and instead of helping me, you took it as a chance to manipulate me. I was the perfect victim for a puppet– but I’m not a fucking puppet, and I will make my own decisions– it’s just sad because I always chose you.

I always chose you, but you never chose me.

I know you will try to find me again. Even though you went to the girl with blond hair and you tried to find that same silly attitude and that same big heart. You wanted me, but you didn’t want the sadness, you didn’t want the mood swings, you didn’t want the insecurity. I was more bad than good to you. I guess to you, I came with too much baggage. I was a burden.

Well this burdened soul cared about you. I cared about you and you didn’t appreciate a damn thing. I could sit here and say I’ve moved on and you’re old news, but you’re not, not yet. You’re still in my dreams and every song on shuffle. You’re still every other thought, not that I miss you, but that you damaged me beyond repair. I just don’t want to seem so pathetic. Every time I hear certain songs I think of you, every time I see a guy with long hair I hope it’s you. It’s never you, but part of me always wants it to be.

I miss hearing you say you’re on your way home, and in no time you’d be at the door. You’re never at my door and it’s hard to get over that. Yes, I’m moving on, but it’s hard. It’s not even fair. You moved on quicker. I was the one who got their heart ripped from their fucking chest. I was the one swallowing twenty pills at a time, snorting coke on the bathroom counter and crying on the floor as I stained my favorite sheets.

I was the one who cried and cried and cried. I was the one who loved and cared more. Fuck, it’s not fair that you’re getting the happy ending. It’s not fair.

Just know that I loved you and you fucked me up. Just know that I wrote pages and pages about you, and you couldn’t even give me a text to say hello half of the time. Just know that you broke my heart, and don’t you dare forget me. If you do remember me years from now, don’t remember me as that ex that was just too sad or that one with too many problems. Don’t think of me as the one who made you so mad or the one who made you lash out. Remember me as the one who was full of pain, but laughed so hard. Remember me as the one who made the weird jokes and always managed to get a smile out of your frowning face. Remember me as the one that always stood up for you, no matter what it was about. Remember me as the one who kissed every part of your body and never let you go feeling lonely. Remember the good times because they weren’t all bad.

Remember me, please.

Trying To Let You Go.

Out of all the people I fell in love with, you were the one who I pictured a life with. Not any life, but the life I’ve always wanted. You were the one that I felt something with I have never felt before. You were the one where it made sense. You were the one of my dreams. You were a wish that came true too soon. A dream that turned to a nightmare, a disappointment, a heartache.

Please believe me when I say that I forgive you. 

I don’t hate you, but I most definitely hate the way you let me go. 

And I’ll never understand how easily you did it. I’ll never understand how flawlessly you forgot about me. But, I forgive you because I really loved you. I forgive you because I don’t want to give you power over the person I am and the future I could possibly have. I forgive you because I don’t need you to tell me what the truth is. I forgive you because that’s just who I am.
This is me letting you go. I’m accepting the fact that you don’t want me. That someday, you’ll be waking-up next to someone who isn’t me. And that someday you’ll be someone’s everything. I’m letting go of hope that you’ll contact me. I’m letting go of fantasizing that you’ll tell me you’re sorry about everything just one last time. That you’ll tell me how much you missed me, but most importantly, that you’ll show it. I’m letting go of my desire that you’ll let me in, not half-way, not sort of but completely. I’m letting go of me thinking that you’ll come back because it’s always been me. I’m letting you go. And it’s not because I don’t love you still.
I’m letting you go because I want to be happy. I know that without you, I am not happy. I need to find my medium place where I am happy regardless. A place without memories of you in it, a place without a picture of you in it as well. I need to start over.
I’m letting you go because you gave-up. You gave-up on me, you gave-up on us, you gave-up on love. And so I get it when you said you had nothing to fight for. I’m letting you go because loving you has no meaning if it only pains me. Because I can’t tell what’s real anymore. And because it’s my last resort. I’m letting you go because slowly but surely you too, let me go. 

I Was A Maybe, You We’re My First Choice.

‪Falling in love with someone who is confused or unsure is probably one of the most damaging things you can involuntarily do. It’s setting yourself up for heartbreak and a future of always feeling not quite good enough; it’s admitting your feelings to someone and being given both hope and rejection in the same breath. It’s telling them you’ll wait when you’re not even sure what you’re waiting for; its sacrificing your self-worth, your dignity and your ability to ever be respected by them for that voice inside your head which tells you they will one day make up their mind, they will one day love you back in all of the ways you love them.‬

‪It is knowing from day one that they don’t care about you, but reading all of the signs which tell you they want you. It is too intense, it’s just a slip away from rose petal covered bed sheets and trips to Paris and then being told they don’t know what they want.‬

‪It’s realizing that it was never just about you, it was about everything, it was about the chase and the excitement and how forbidden it felt.‬

‪It was about standing on the edge of oblivion and getting the adrenline racing through his veins at the thought of pulling you into the bar toilets and screwing you.‬

It was simply only about him and what he needed- sex and flirtation and an empty escape from his life.‬

‪But for you, oh sweet girl, for you it was everything. It was the first day you laid eyes on him—his smile stretching across his too perfect face and making you feel things you had only ever read about. It was those excited texts to your friends about the hot new guy who had appeared in your life and discussing marriage and babies in that jokey way you always do when you become infatuated with someone new. It was trying to fit your life around the possibility of you becoming something, it was rearranging schedules just so you could spend another hour with him and that first night he held your hand. It was realizing all of the things you had in common and thinking to yourself, “this is it, he’s the one,” even though deep down you knew he would never be yours.‬

‪It was telling yourself that something this beautiful, this magical, this so damned near perfect had to work out because life couldn’t be that cruel.‬

‪But it was also those nights spent mindlessly watching your phone—waiting for his name to flash up and only getting a radio silence because he was with some other girl entirely. It was telling yourself time and time again that you were done, that you deserved to be more than a maybe, a late-night sext session, and then deleting his number, only to respond within two minutes when he started flirting again because you felt those fireworks exploding inside of you and they were so addictive, you were afraid of that emptiness when he stopped.‬

‪It was sending half-naked photos just to get his attention and then hating yourself when his response wasn’t what you wanted because that day. It was lying to everyone around you when they told you to stop, that it was killing you, that you were withdrawn and obsessed and falling apart. It was convincing yourself that you weren’t in love with him, that you just wanted a bit of fun because that’s all it ever was, but when you saw him again, you felt that rush of intense desire and chemistry, and you couldn’t deny it anymore because as much as you wished you could be okay with being his friend with benefits, you wanted to be his world.‬

‪It was playing the cool girl because you didn’t want him to think you can’t handle something emotionless and fun. It was taping your mouth shut when all you wanted to do was scream. It was crying yourself to sleep when he stopped replying to your texts, when he told you he wanted to be “just friends” even though yesterday he was smacking your ass and telling you you’re beautiful. It was forever trying to make sense of his mixed messages and supporting him when he was struggling, even though it was tearing you apart.‬

‪It’s wondering what in the hell is wrong with you, why you always fall for guys who don’t have room for you, for something real or serious, those men who just need a woman to comfort them when their life isn’t making sense.‬

‪It’s never feeling steady in any future relationship you have because you are just waiting for someone better than you to capture their eye because you know what men are capable of. It’s always feeling just that little bit worthless because you are always the girl who is not enough, who is only good for the sex and the 3am texts and the stolen kisses when no-one is looking.‬

‪It’s starting to believe that you will never be someone’s first choice, that you don’t deserve to be. It’s slowly feeling afraid of loving, of giving yourself to someone because you don’t know if they will give pieces of themselves back and more than that, it’s not knowing if there is even anything left to give.‬

‪It’s feeling broken and scarred, and not knowing a way back.

An Open Letter To The Guy That Destroyed Me.

Dear “You”,

In the very beginning, I didn’t want a relationship. I was so terrified of being hurt that I pushed you away, and told you that it wasn’t what I wanted. I tried to keep my distance, and tried to avoid you as much as I possibly could.

That didn’t change anything though. You wore me down, and broke down every single wall that I had built around my heart to protect me.

At the time I thought you had just cared so much, and wanted to try at a relationship with me, but looking back I can see you just wanted to build me up in order for you to tear me right back down.

So, we dated, and at first I thought it was everything I could ever want. I was on cloud nine, and I thought I had made the right choice in letting you in.

I was wrong.

The truth is, you didn’t really love me. Maybe you loved the idea of me and you loved what I could do for you. Maybe you loved having me around because I would do absolutely anything for you, but if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have destroyed me the way you did. That’s not love.

I loved you so much that I lost sight in everything else, especially myself.  I glued myself to you so tightly because I was so terrified of losing you. Lets be honest though, you were never really mine to lose, were you?

You always treated me so coldly, and I couldn’t ever understand why when all I ever did was love you. Sometimes the harsh words you used to stay still echo inside of my head. “She’s prettier than you…I used you…The sex isn’t good…I don’t normally date girls your size…” Do you remember saying those words to me? I sure as hell do.

I was never good enough, or at least that is how you would treat me. I was always wrong, I was the crazy one after the break up, it was never you. It was always me.

You were poison to my heart, and I wanted so badly to save you, but I couldn’t.

You destroyed me. And I hated you for it.

I hated you so much that the very thought of you made my blood boil. I was going  down a path I had never gone down before and it scared me. Everything you had put me through made me hate you so much that I became bitter. I was turning into someone I didn’t want to be, someone I was growing to hate.

So I tried to forgive you. Not because you apologized, or because you even deserved it. I tried to forgive you for myself. I knew that the only way I could begin to let you go, and to move on with my life was for me to forgive you even though you weren’t sorry.

I learned a lot in letting you go, so much that I couldn’t see because my world revolved around you completely.

The day you left me, it was the worst day of my life. But I see now that you saved me that day and I thank you for that. I was lost in loving you that I couldn’t see that you were only hurting me. With every text you had to hide, every lie you told, every girl you saw behind my back, and every harsh word you would speak to me, and somewhere down the road I accepted that it was what I deserved.

That saying “we accept the love we think we deserve” had never been so true in my life. I knew that I had to change. I needed to take a breather and get back to the girl I wanted to be, not the girl that I became in loving a monster.

I deserve so much more than you could have ever given me. Goodbye made me strong.

I really hope that one day you realize how badly you treated me.

I wish you lots of luck in whatever you’re doing now, and I hope that you’re not a douche forever.


The girl you destroyed.