Dear Heart,

The past two weeks have come with several startling revelations. At first, I tried to process these on my own, but I always come back to writing. 

Everything seems to sort itself out once it’s on the page. Somehow, things come to light that I had been running around in circles in my mental hamster wheel, trying to make sense of.

For instance, two weeks ago, I learned my ex put me through serious, extensive emotional manipulation that I am still wading through. It is wild to think all the “good parts” of the relationship were really just the “bad in disguise”. It left me with a terrible sinking feeling that I had been so blind to his tactics for so long. At the very least, instead of sifting the “good” from the “bad”, I can toss the entire relationship out the window and start fresh.

For months, I tried to put puzzle pieces back together, but when you are in an abusive relationship, not all the pieces belong to the same puzzle. Some are your pieces that he broke while you were together, some of yours he took with him, and some are the pieces of his own brokenness he left behind after he walked away. They don’t go to the same puzzle so of course they don’t fit. And what do you do with a puzzle with missing and mismatched pieces? Throw the whole thing away and get a new one.

Someone described narcissists to me as something like a tornado, coming with very little warning, not caring what kind of wreckage they leave behind, and on to the next town like nothing ever happened.

I definitely felt that after we broke up. He acted as if nothing ever happened, like I was less than a stranger to him. He couldn’t even meet my eyes when we passed each other.

My friends all said it was out of shame that he avoided me like the plague, shame for how it ended, shame for how he treated me, shame for who he was. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

It also forced me to realize there is a big difference between shame and regret. Shame is a self-pity, or even self-flagellation- you hate who you are- whereas regret begets action. Not only do you hate what you did, but you make steps to change. As far as I can see, I am just the latest in a line of women he has manipulated. There is no change, there is no promise of change for the future, and unlike in a situation with a tornado, I can’t even warn the next town what is coming. 

The only thing that has changed is me. I refused to play his game in the end. The “will he or won’t he” push and pull of the breakup dance. The one where he gives you every reason and opportunity to break up with him, so he’s not the villain but the victim. He didn’t get that from me. 

Even with no context for what he was really doing, I knew if he wanted to break up with me, he would have to be man enough to say it. And finally, he did, although I wouldn’t call what he did “man enough”. He proved he was his own worst fear, cowardly.

I remember writing an essay in high school analyzing The Scarlet Letter about the difference between living in shame and secrets versus choosing to heal. Shame can eat you alive, and it’s not how I want to live my life. In this relationship, I have nothing to be ashamed of anyway. 

Is there anything I regret? Sometimes I think the answer to that is yes. If only I had known, I would have done this differently.

I have certainly learned a lot about others and myself – my strengths and weaknesses, how they can be used against me. This might sound pessimistic, like I expect to be manipulated or that I think all people are narcissists trying to use you for their own gain. That is not my outlook at all. 

However, I know what signs to look for and how skillfully red flags can be hidden in the first months of the relationship. I know how to protect myself should I come across someone who would seek to use my heart against me again. 

I do not regret anything I said or did in the relationship, because I wouldn’t have behaved differently. I always acted out of love, and my conscience is clear. This relationship has been many things to me, and now it is a lens through which I can view a time in my life, a data point on my dating journey. It is not the end, it is not game over, and it is certainly not the finale, no matter how hard he tried to convince me it would be.

Your Heartsmith