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All the words I wish I could have told you

I got rid of my last photo of you, and I immediately regretted it. I realized that I will never be able to use the photos I took, documenting our love, as a bookmark.

I regretted that on any suspecting afternoon, with the sun gleaming just right twenty years from now, one of those photos will never fall out of an old book in front of my children and they won’t ask about the boy in the picture with curly hair and reddened cheeks.

I regretted it because you are – you were – my first love. And a person only gets one of those in a lifetime.

When I finally left I reacted curt toward you, almost passive or indifferent, because I didn’t want you to know that this was killing me too. Because I wanted to be strong – because the alternative was weak. Because we met un-intentionally and you immediately became forever etched into my soul.

I regretted it because we were damned from the start – because I found happiness in you before I found happiness in myself.

But, the reality is that I didn’t even know that I was looking for someone like you to save me from my misdirection. In fact, all I knew was that I liked the feeling in my stomach when your bright smile landed in my direction. I liked the comfort I felt in your eyes, I liked being desired. And, I liked how the beginning of our love story sprouted as if it were straight out of a Nora Ephron film.

The thing about those movies, however, is that they always ended just before the story actually began and reality set in.

For whatever reason, I thought myself righteous enough to pop our bubble. To be the one who decides that there is something better, grander, more extraordinary beyond the story of us.

So, I let it go. I convinced myself that I needed to get away so that I could start feeling again.

But seared inside my mind, hidden behind my self-proclaimed and glaring passions for the best love story known to man – and my belief that you couldn’t possibly give it to me – are the photos of you that I took in sepia. My hand on your chest. The back of your head against a sunset. Our hands holding one another. A kiss stolen in a gas station parking lot. Your eyes meeting mine with affection from the driver’s seat when we stopped at a red light and I told you to smile.

I regret that I didn’t give us the chance to seize just one more moment together. I regret that I didn’t give us a chance.

I know that you broke my heart in little ways for a long time, but I broke your heart in a big way all at once. One does not cancel out the other.

I loved you unconditionally. You knew it, too, but you lost me. I waited until I had enough and I left.

I realized that it is better to be single and search for myself, then to settle for something I feel insecure in.

Don’t get me wrong though. Our ending wasn’t nearly as tumultuous as I am making it out to be, nor as I would have liked it to be. One second we were, the next we were not. And that was it. We just ended. There was no thunder, no lightening. Nothing.

Even now as I am sorting through what exactly happened, I still can’t help but think that if you loved me the way you said you did you would have treated me the way you said you would.

I wouldn’t have had to beg.

Even when we did eventually try to talk about us, instead of ignoring the elephant in the room with banter or seduction, I’d be speechless. I didn’t know where to start.

But, please don’t mistake my silence for indifference. I do still love you. I always will, except it’s not the same. We spent so much time together and I know that I am saying so little right now to make up for it. I know that this is unbearable, but I promise you that every word I wish to utter to you is in my mind. I just can’t bring myself to speak when you look at me like that. When you draw yourself closer, it is a bribe which I can’t commit to. So please take a step back, I’m so tired of this. I am drained. If I stayed, I would spend a lifetime choking on words I wouldn’t ever dare to say.

I invested in you and I lost myself. I became dependent. And to be honest, this was the last thing I wanted. I spent close to a year relying on someone I didn’t want to rely on – nor could I. I knew it was the end long before you did, and I held on anyways, just in case, because I have a drastic fear of letting go and moving on.

But how can I reconcile breaking your heart and leaving everything we had together in just a few short minutes. You say that I took you by surprise, that you didn’t see it coming – but I don’t know how. I gave you all of the signs. You saw my silent tears. I always knew I wanted more. I was destined for something different. I felt it, deep in my bones, I just never faced it until I was forced to. I was able to ignore my confusion because we laughed with one another. We couldn’t take our hands off one another. We ran home in the pouring rain together, stopping only to kiss.

We experienced the best of one another for a short period of time, and I know that our relationship lasted as long as it was meant to. We loved each other until we couldn’t. We chewed us up and spit us out. We got everything we needed to get out of one another. We fell in and out of love from worlds apart. But I still feel terrible. And I feel like I should be feeling more even though I have been overcome with intense conflicting feelings every day since we said goodbye. Every day for close to a year.

I guess I just want you to know that I didn’t make this decision in haste. I needed to get away in order to understand more of myself.

I regret not thanking you enough for watching me blossom and believing in me so that I could believe in myself. I should have told you just how much you helped me realize the endless bounds of myself, for better or for worse.

I should have thanked you for letting me go, even though it hurt like hell.

I regret doing this to you because you waited for me. Because I gave you dozens of silent chances in my head. Because you would take me back in a second and I am here telling you that I am confused. That I need more time. That is – time to think. Time to learn and explore and dream. But all you hear is that I need to do all of these things away from you, that I need time alone. That I would rather work on building my sense of self alone than by your side.

But I deserve someone who makes me feel alive. Someone who is generous and who makes my heart jump when I tell people that they are mine. And you deserve someone who doesn’t give you an expiration date.

I am scared that maybe I made a mistake, that maybe I am foolish, or maybe that this is all that my love amounts to. I am having trouble accepting the normalcy of the end of us. The lack of explosion.

I am scared that I will forget. I am scared that after a few months everything we had will feel just like a dream. A dream that is open-ended, a dream that will constantly be on repeat in our respective minds until the end of time. Fated to carry each other’s baggage.

I regret that I now have to give you to someone else. That someone else will nuzzle into your chest, and devour your smell. I regret that I gave it all up so easily and have only in hindsight realized the weight of my naivety. Or did I? Because I also remember being so incredibly devastated, and being met with oblivion, with dismissive niceties. I remember my anxieties being belittled or made to feel small. I remember that I didn’t have the means, or the patience, to heal you.

I remember crying on the dance floor a year ago. Turning around so that none of my friends would see. I was staring at your messages. They were curt, broken and hard to make sense of. I remember being confused, I remember when someone told me for the first time that I deserved a love that was better. A love that nurtured. A love I didn’t have to settle for. A love that swept me off my feet.

I regret that we were different together than we were around everyone else. That no one got a real glimpse of us, in love. I regret being so quiet. I regret that I couldn’t love you like you loved me. I regret that you couldn’t love me the way I needed you to. I regret that we’ve run out of things to say.

I regret that our relationship was already broken even when your fingers were strumming through my hair or when we sat across from each other on the floor in a fit of laughter.

I regret knowing it was the end before you did, and holding on anyways just in case. I regret not telling you just how nervous I was and just how serious I was when I said that I thought we lost our spark. Our magic.

I regret it all because I wish that I held on to those pictures for a little while longer. I wish I studied them. Even though I knew the ending wouldn’t change.

Neither of us can fully heal our heartbreak unless we are apart. We have to heal for ourselves, rather than for the possibility that one day down the line we will be together again.

Seeing you that day, when you came by to collect your things, actually helped me realize that I am better off without you. That I am happy now. Really happy. And I no longer doubt myself. I no longer rely on you for happiness. I no longer get angry or sad because you couldn’t make me happy.

In hindsight I had absolutely no idea who I was when I met you. I still really don’t. I’m not even sure that I knew what genuine happiness looked or felt like.

Maybe that’s what ruined us after all. My indifference. My sadness. All of which at the end of the day amounted to nothing.

Soon I will be able to think about you without ripping my heart out.

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Love + Sex Love Life Stories

I found my ex in posts about narcissistic abuse and now I don’t know who I fell for

It’s been almost a year since my ex and I broke up and there has been a lot of healing and crying. For a long time, I thought that I would be with him forever and that he was my soulmate. No matter what happened I would tell my friends over and over that he wasn’t a bad person and it was all because of his mental health. I tried so hard to convince them that he was the only person I could be with and the only person I would ever be happy with. After we broke up, he got with someone else almost straight away. I explained it away and defended him. It wasn’t until later that I learned about narcissistic abuse.

Whilst researching for an article, I came across an Instagram page that talked about narcissistic abuse. I looked through a few of their posts and honestly, my world had changed. All of the behavior that I had been explaining away for so long finally made sense. To be honest, my world came crashing down. I thought back through some of our memories and I saw them in a completely different light. A mutual friend saw the posts and she was shocked. Her exact words were ‘it’s like looking at a picture of him’ and I couldn’t agree more. 

These are the things that changed my perspective the most:

Overlapping relationships

This was something that I knew about but I didn’t realize why. I always thought it was because he was naturally charismatic and things just happened but the reality was completely different. People who are narcissistic tend to have overlapping relationships as they need constant support and supply. Even when they are in a relationship with you, they are always on the look for a new supply. This was my ex. It was a year between his first girlfriend and me. After we broke up the first time, he got with someone within a week. I explained this as ‘he is looking to deal with the pain of dealing with the break up’. Looking back, I realize that it was because he couldn’t stand being alone, it had less to do with me and more to do with his insecurities. 

Flying monkeys 

These tend to be their friends who will actively attempt to ruin the life of the person who has upset the person that is narcissistic. Like the Wicked Witch of the West, they send their Flying Monkeys after them to keep them quiet and prevent them from speaking against the narcissist. My ex did this. I never really liked his friends but I put up with them because I loved him, this was a mistake. After we broke up, we would still speak. One day, he stopped randomly and I tried to find out what happened. In retaliation, he had his friends messaging me, constantly stalking my social media and my personal website. I felt isolated and scared. I was intimidated; it felt like I was alone. I always thank my friends for standing next to and in front of me to protect me. 

Disciple type following

They are worshippers that are devoted to those that are narcissistic. Friends make sure to keep you on the right path and give you advice, even when it might be hard to hear. They don’t condone all of your actions blindly and always blame the other person. Holy shit, this changed everything for me. My relationship fell apart when I tried to give advice to my ex when he was wrong. All I received for that was abuse. I was made to feel like I was going crazy, not just by him but by his worshippers. Some of them were my friends, but they honestly wouldn’t have cared if he physically abused me, they would have found some way to blame me for that. The more he changed, the more I fell out of love because the person I loved didn’t exist and even though people agreed, they would never speak to him about it. I was fighting a losing battle. 

I know that I don’t want to be with him anymore. The way that he treated me was abusive and I can finally see that. Something that really drove it home was speaking to people who didn’t idolize him. The similarities between our stories terrified me and I knew that I had to cut contact with everyone he knows. I’m still reeling from what I found.

For his sake, I hope he becomes the person I fell for because he was amazing. But I know I deserve someone who won’t manipulate me. Who I can truly trust and who won’t abandon me just to bring me back into his life to ghost me. I cannot wait till I meet him because I know I deserve better than what I got. 

If you are in need of support, reach out to these helplines:

National Domestic Abuse Helpline – 0808 2000 247 (United Kingdom)

National Domestic Violence Hotline – 1-800-799-7233 (USA)

Love + Sex Love Advice

Here’s why dating scares you (and how to dump that fear!)

Dear Madame Lestrange,

My mom and therapist say it’s time for me to start dating. I’m finishing up high school. They say it’s what people my age do, but I’m actually scared to be that emotionally invested in someone.

Any tips?

Thank you,

Scared to Date.


Dear Scared to Date,

Dating can be scary, but it can also be exhilarating. The thing is that a lot of us have the wrong idea about what it means to go on a date. We have this image of a prospective partner surrounded by a hazy Hollywood glow. They’re funny, smart, and interesting, and they offer to pay for the bill. They’ll walk you home and, in a sweep of lusty excitement, will lay a life-changing kiss on your lips. The entire soundtrack from Twilight will play over and over again in your head the whole time.

And honestly? It could happen. You could have a romantic, perfect encounter on your first date, but you could also have a pretty boring time. Hell, you could even have a downright terrible time.

The fact is that the experience of dating is different for everyone. It’s meant to be fun because you get to meet new people, learn more about yourself, and gain some hilarious stories to take with you on life’s journey. So don’t overthink it.

But as much as this is true, you should date when you are ready for it. Some people choose to date in high school, some people choose to date in university. In fact, some people would rather wait until they’re done with their education to even consider going on a date.

And all of it is “normal.” Again, we have this idea in our minds about what is the normal thing to do, but the truth is that “normal” doesn’t really exist.

So find your own normal, girl. And when you do, revel in it.

You’re welcome,

Madame Lestrange.


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