Throughout our relationship and my attempts at dating when it ended, I used to think love was supposed to hurt. Or at least feel a little painful. I thought if it didn’t make me anxious, if I wasn’t walking on eggshells, or if I wasn’t constantly proving myself, then maybe it wasn’t real love.
You taught me these by the way.
I made many excuses for you – all those terrible experiences with your father growing up continued to affect you – I thought I could help by allowing you lash out at me to release steam.
We were the perfect storm of push and pull. I played small so I wouldn’t push you away. I swallowed my words when you hurt me because I was afraid of losing you. I convinced myself that the lump in my throat, the nights I spent crying into my pillow, and the times I had to earn your affection were part of love’s complicated dance.
I was wrong.
Love isn’t supposed to feel like a test you’re constantly failing. It isn’t supposed to be a battlefield where one person fights to be seen while the other gives just enough to keep them holding on.
It took me a long time to realize that love should feel safe.
When my best friend got into her relationship with her current husband, I thought she was faking it when she told me she had a very secure love for her partner. By the time they got married, I stopped hearing all that much from Ene. One day I ran into her at the saloon, and she opened up that she was worried I would influence her thinking with my ideas about how much love is supposed to hurt.
We talked for a while and your name came up. She told me she didn’t have to shrink herself to be loved by her husband. I could not relate. I was used to shapes-shifting to feel loved by you. I’d literally beg for the bare minimum and still be afraid of saying what I want in bed.
In choosing to relearn love, I realized I didn’t love myself all that much. And this is where my relearning love begins.
I started speaking up when something bothered me instead of letting resentment fester. I started treating myself with the kindness I only treated partners with. I started setting boundaries—not because I was playing hard to get, but because I finally understood that the right person wouldn’t make me compromise my worth to be with them.
And you know what? It feels like the right step in the right direction.
I used to think love had to be dramatic, intense, full of longing and misunderstandings—like some tragic romance novel. Now I know that real love feels like a deep breath, like coming home to yourself.
Remembering our relationship, I was
a girl who didn’t know she deserved better. A girl who mistook inconsistency for passion, silence for peace, and longing for love. That girl? She’s gone.
The woman writing this letter? She is no longer willing to prove her worth to anyone. She knows love isn’t about dimming her light or biting her tongue—it’s about showing up fully and being loved exactly as she is.
So, dear ex-boyfriend, I hope you’ve learned something about love too. I hope, wherever you are, you’re giving and receiving the kind of love that doesn’t hurt. Because as for me, I’m done believing love has to be painful to be real.
Your Ex-Girlfriend
- Dear Ex-Boyfriend” is a fictional relationship column written by Ese Walter, reflecting on past experiences with a fictional ex. Readers are encouraged to share their own stories by submitting letters for possible publication. Submissions can be sent to esewalter@gmail.com
