Lessons Of A Quiet Girl

Exes

I had to learn it the hard way, of course I did. But I'm happy to say this one wasn't due to my stubborn nature. If anything, it was my unbreakable optimism at play; what some would call naivety. Whatever you want to call it, I wish I would have done something different.

 I hate meeting exes. Hate, hate, hate it. And usually it has nothing to do with them. I dated this one guy for a while, and he made sure that I met as many of his exes as he could manage. Now, please remember here, I was much younger and much newer to the world than I am now, and I didn't have any of these lessons or deep thought processes at the time. He had told me that he was still good friends with his exes, and he had told me that a lot of his friends were girls. Not a big deal to me, a lot of my friends were guys. Ha!

But here's what I learned. I hate meeting exes, unless they are absolutely going to be in his life for a long ass time, ie: mother of his children. Only exception that I can come up with. Oh, or maybe they married into the family somewhere else in the tree and we'll be seeing them at holidays and family events, which would still be weird, I think.

I hate meeting exes because my optimistic, pure, naive heart believed this wasn't actually a terrible thing. In fact, it could be a good thing. Because they would be looking out for him, right? If they didn't like me, it was one thing. But if they thought that he and I were a bad match, they would speak up, because they obviously still have this friendship, they still care for each other, even if they are no longer in a loving relationship. Right? This makes sense?

Wrong. So wrong. I mean, maybe that part is true, but that's not really why he dragged me along to meet his exes. This could be me speaking from a place of deep hurt, but I can't help but feeling that a big part of the reason that he took me to meet these women, was to shove in my face what I have to try to measure up to. To show me how good he had it before. To try to knock me down as far as he could, so that I would always strive to be better for him, rather than just to be better for myself or as a person. It's completely possible that he felt compelled to bring me to meet these women so that he could show them that he knew how to go slumming now.

I'm a 30 year old single mother. Guess what kinds of guys I'm going to end up meeting? Ones with exes, mothers to their children. The exes I will inevitably have to meet.

I will say this, though. Most of his exes weren't terrible. Hell, a lot of the were pretty cool, and we got along really well.

But there was the one, and she will always stick with me. I'm naming her Barbara. Barbara was his first girlfriend. They were on and off for years in high school. And all that's fine and dandy, whatever, no bigs. First love, so cute, kissy noises, barf. Over and in the past, just like all the others, right? I mean, it couldn't be that bad, they had been over for around 10 years at this point. She was married, had a family. Couldn't be more over. Or so I thought.

Not from how close she needed to be to him. Not by how she felt compelled to whisper in his ear. Not by how she kept trying to get him alone. Not by how she was trying to get him alone, in a secluded place. "Hey, let's just you and me go offroading like old times." Now, I'm not a very jealous person. I get my twinges, sure, that's normal. But I like my stuff, my people. He was my person. And not just any person; he was my romantic person, my intimate person. And yeah, she was full out trying to take my person. So no, I never liked her. Not for a second.

She was pretty unrelenting for a while, too. These are the things I would change, had I known then what I know now. When I told him that she was the only one I had a problem with him hanging out with, because she was clingy and possessive of someone who wasn't hers. So he met up and had coffee with her anyways. When I told him after that, that he had to choose, his past or his present; her, the married woman, or me, the one he was actually with. Fantasy or reality. Then he 'bumped into her' at the mall, and she scribbled down her number on a piece of paper so he could call her. That was carelessly left on the counter and 'accidentally' thrown out. So he 'bumped into her' again, and she gave him her business card, which happened to have her personal number on it, as well. Ah, cell phones. This 'he' lost. Sorry, Barbara. Not on my watch.

What I didn't realize at the time, was this was the person he would always want me to be. This was the person he would always want to actually be making memories with. This was the one he would never actually get over. This would always be the one he wanted. Which really sucks, because I put a lot of effort into trying to be the best damn girlfriend I could be. The cooking, the cleaning, the children, paying the bills and rent. But, ultimately, I gave up. I realized I would never be good enough. I wasn't Barbara. Guess what, Barb, as far as I know he's single now. Go nuts.

Now my entire view on meeting exes is painted black. I never want to have to meet another ex. I never want to know what I'm going to try to have to live up to. I don't want that pressure at all, yet alone to know about it. Anyone who has worked in food will understand this. Knowing about exes is a small cut that you didn't know you had. Meeting them is sanitizer. Cut, meet sanitizer.

I want my blissful ignorance. More than that, I just want someone to want me for me. Just as I am. Flaws and imperfections. Someone who can inspire me to be better than I was yesterday. Someone who is going to help me heal when I'm sick. To put my pieces back together when I'm cracked. Someone who is so much more than just a lover, but also a friend. Someone who is going to help me to draw out the best version of myself, like a splinter. It may not be easy, but the end result will be so worth it. (Not currently accepting applications)