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At one time, I didn’t understand why women who came along after me always seemed to carry a great deal of contempt for me. The past was the past, and anything I once shared with the men they were now with was over. I tend to love until I am depleted; therefore, once I am done with you, normally every drop of whatever I had for you is gone. It’s very rare for me to desire to return to the scene of the crime. Most left me broken, and it took far too much time for me to mend the pieces of my heart back together for any desire to remain that would make me want to spin the block.
Quite honestly, most times, the thought of being with them again repulsed me. But most importantly, for the women, I think, well, you got the man, right? Shouldn’t it be the other way around, with me having an issue with you?
Their Despising of an ex from their men’s past was baffling. There have been some who have had a series of relationships in between our breakups, so why did it seem I was the one most hated? It took me a long time to discover that my name was a thorn in many of these women’s sides because of the ghost that I left behind. I learned that for them that it was like moving into a home that I once occupied, tossing out all of the furniture I once sat or laid on, painting the walls I once touched and replacing all the pots and pans that I'd cooked with, in an effort to rid the space of any remnants of me. And yet, though the physical aspects of my existence were long gone, the essence of who I was to their men very often continued to linger.
It would show up in the smallest of ways that were huge to the men they love. Things that I used to do that so many of them didn’t realize they wanted or even needed until after I was long gone.
I remember so clearly one day early in our relationship with my now ex, that he became extremely irritated with me because of my clinginess. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eating dinner off a folding table, while watching TV. Physical touch is my love language. I want it, need it and I crave lots of it. So I climbed on the bed and slid in behind him. I straddled his back, wrapping my arms around his waist. It irritated him greatly.
“Clo, damn! Can I fucking eat in peace?”, he said to me.
My feelings were hurt. I’m a Scorpio. Contrary to popular belief, we are extremely sensitive and hurt easily. And when they are, we become very quiet, which I did. I immediately decided to withdraw all touching of him from that point forward. I would not rub his back and wasn’t going to put my booty on him when we went to bed. I wasn’t going to wrap my legs around his like a pretzel either. I would get under the covers that night and scoot over all the way to the very edge of the bed.
From that moment on, unless we were having sex, I would not make an effort to touch him. It was hard for me, but I stuck to my guns. It would be a day or so later that he would no
tice. I wasn’t rubbing on him like I always did. I wasn’t trying to lay on him as we watched TV. I wasn’t feeling him up when he passed by. He’d gotten so used to my always being clingy with him, that when I stopped, he not only noticed, but he missed it.
I always told him how handsome I thought he was. A girl loves herself some chocolate. Therefore, just the sight of him made me want to eat him up and I would tell him as much. On more than one occasion we’d be out and I’d say to him, “Baby get up and go get us a drink from the bar. I want to watch all the women look at what I got.” And I meant it. I stroked his ego often because, just like we women, a man needs to hear that he looks good, too.
With another ex, he’d been married for almost as many years as he’d been single. He and I had been friends since high school. We’d had a fondness for each other, but according to him, he’d
always seen me as beyond his reach. He’d said to me so many times that he would never come for me until he was sure that his marriage was over. So when it finally was over and he’d moved out of the house and in with his mother, that’s what he did. He came and found me.
According to him, his wife, as he’d described her, was very selfish and self-centered. She only thought of herself and their kids, leaving very little thought or care about him and his needs. She didn’t cook. She only shopped for her and their kids, leaving him to his own devices. He gave her everything she wanted, and in return, he only got what was left.
However, I am a caterer. I love to do things for the man that I am with. I love to cook. I fix plates. I pay attention and do the little things that will make him smile. He was the one that made me see that a lot of women are selfish and why men complain so much that Valentine’s and Mother’s Day hold far more weight for women than for men and Father’s Day.
When we got together he had very little, but I didn’t care. For the majority of my life, I’ve been a builder. So over a series of five months, that is what I did. I helped him build and put his life together, from helping choose furniture for his new apartment to buying him clothes and shoes for when we went out. However, once she got wind of his having truly moved on, suddenly the man she asked to divorce became the man she wanted. And after five months, he left me and decided he’d return home to his wife to try to work things out. I made no fuss. I told him I understood and cared most for his happiness. However, he could never return to me. And I meant every word I said. She got her man back, but she hated every thought of me. Why? Because though his body was there, his mind and spirit remained attached to me. They fought about me constantly, though he and I ceased all communication once he left.
Within two years, they were divorced, and she will probably hate me forever. And the wife he has now, although he and I broke up seven years ago, hates me as well. I don’t understand either of them. He left me to go back to one, and after divorcing her, he’s now married to someone else. I had been clear when he left that he could never come back, and they both know this, and yet the ex-wife and the second wife together have formed an alliance against me.
Life is funny. This seems to be a reoccurring pattern for me with the men of my past, dating back to high school. They all couldn’t see the value in me until they had someone else to compare it to. I always loved too hard. I gave too much. I did too much. I was way too clingy or touchy-feely. I was too accommodating, too loving, supportive, and encouraging. I paid too much attention to the little things and was too focused on making them happy. I was too quick to make things happen or to jump in and take charge, offering to help as soon as I saw a need. I always knew what to do or where to go to get the information. I was too much for many of the men I dated, to the point that they didn’t value what they had in me.
And eventually, these men felt they could do whatever they chose because I had proved time and time again that I wasn’t going anywhere. I loved them so much that, to my detriment, all I wanted to do was make them happy.
It’s true that sometimes the one closest to you and who you know has your back is the one you are most likely to mistreat and take for granted.
But the funny thing is that it’s also true what they say about not realizing how much someone is riding for you until they pull the brakes. That good, better, and best syndrome will have you looking in your rearview. Have you compared what you had to what you have? I see it clearly now. And now that I do see it clearly, I’ve forced myself into becoming a person that I never would have thought I’d be.
I used to be so angry with myself because of the nurturing person I am. Now, I simply know to hold back and let a person show me that they DESERVE to receive those beautiful parts of me. ❤️
Chloe
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