Some Girls...

There are some girls that want a champagne lifestyle on a lemonade budget, other girls that have a fur coat but no knickers, ones that are powerfully happy with being single and a few that are lucky enough to meet Mr Right. Then there are the unfortunates. The kind of women who reluctantly take part in the world of online dating, the ones whose past is constantly trying to catch up with them and the ones who eventually give in the fight to trust one more time.

The truth is I refuse to become a part of a category. Ever since I turned down my ex’s request for a second chance and he bitterly told me that I would, ‘never be able to trust another man again’. It was like a bolt of lightning flashed down and scorched the earth around me. He had cursed me and my ability to have a happy relationship with anyone else but him.

The truth is, I had got tired of swallowing bitter pills of criticism, actively changing myself out of insecurity and comparing myself to every ex-girlfriend he had ever had. I had dyed my hair back to the colour I wanted to be (my natural colour) and started to laugh and raise my head up high in conversation. I started to share my opinions with him and he didn't like it.

He was quick to point out at any given opportunity when I pronounced a word wrong, or used colloquial slang instead of formal English. He used to boast about his complex use of words in his middle class North London accent, mocking the East London working class undertones that echoed in mine. I was reminded of why I had remained silent in so many arguments with him, my opinions were simply unimportant to him. I had become a understudy for another woman in his life.

Reflecting back, I think I was pretty good understudy. One who spent Saturday night washing the Ikea sofa covers, cleaning the oven, vacuuming the house and who always made an effort to compete with every ex-girlfriend he had ever had (even if it meant I spent most of my time alone, while he played World of Warcraft or War Hammer). However no matter how I talked myself into the illusion of being with him, I would always be the understudy (the plan B in his life).

I never realised it, but I had decided to dance with a devil. One that told me lies I wanted to hear and who was with me for purely selfish reasons. I had been led down the garden path, made to feel inferior to other women and constantly on edge. I was emotionally dependant on his moods and the words that came out of his mouth. I had lost myself in a bitter sweet rut that I called ‘love’.  

However, I do not consider myself to be a victim. People are responsible for their own happiness in life and how their story ends. In my story he was a bullet that I dodged, a bad bet that I lost and a lesson that was learnt. Never again will I let someone dictate to me how I should feel and act. Never will I let him taint my future happiness with someone else.