After five months of the silent treatment, for some transgression I only vaguely understood, you re-appeared: “Happy Mother’s Day, stranger.”
I responded, thinking, as usual, “I can take it.”
You started, immediately, trying to get me to do things you wanted. The difference this time was that this time, I stood my ground. I’ve gotten past the smoke and mirrors and see clearly what the game is. As soon as I resisted you changed your tune, blowing hot and cold and distancing yourself, revealing how insincere your overtures really were. It was just like before.
The last time we were together you asked me why I kept going back. I told you I care about you and love being around you. Then I asked why you keep asking for me and you said you “don’t care” if I’m there or not. This was one of your few clear statements, confirming that how you were treating me was the true reflection of how you felt about me. The rest was mind games to get me to do whatever you wanted. Lies.
I DID care, very much. There was a time when I was in love with you and did everything I could to make it work. You took it all, while hiding my existence and denying to anyone who asked that there was anything going on between us. After three years, I was still “just a pal”, and you were doing whatever you wanted, with no regard for me or my feelings. I was devastated.
You lied, cheated, screamed at me, put me down and belittled me; you asked for all the favors, and just took whatever you wanted, but never offered a thing in return; you flirted while I was right there and online with strangers; if we went out, you never asked what I wanted to do, and then would ignore me the whole time, expecting that I wait for you and drive you home; you demanded I show up when you wanted and would push me away until next time you needed something; you NEVER came to see me; you talked to ex-girlfriends and potential ones, giving them compliments and presents, while you starved me for affection.
I was exhausted; I felt like I didn’t matter and I got depressed and constantly worried. I was anxious to the point of not being able to make decisions or eat, waiting for the next terrible thing. I spent most of my time lonely and ruminating.
I slept beside you even though it was a torment because you didn’t love me. It was such a violation of my values and integrity that I was in a constant state of self-disgust.
I tried to leave you, but struggled to stay away, thinking your disrespect of my need for space was actually love. I drank too much so I wouldn’t have to think about how humiliating it all was. I was destroying myself with my own hopes and expectations and you finished the job with your callous user mentality.
That prolonged silent treatment freed me. I became stronger and less angry. I was more productive than I had been in almost three years. I was able to engage properly with my friends and family and did better at work. I took a holiday. I enjoyed everything more.
And within a week of you contacting me again, I slipped backward. Anxiety, depression, and rumination quickly returned. My mind and body reacted to you very strongly and it was unbearable, after knowing how much better I am without you.
I can barely remember what made me fall in love with you because every memory is tainted by something awful you did. I know it would never be better, no matter what you say when you need something and push for another chance. As ever before, your words and actions do not match and I can no longer fool myself into believing only the pretty things.
My mind and heart have been forever altered by you.
I do not trust you.
The game is over.
Runway to real-life fashion can be hard to achieve, especially for women who have “real” bodies.
1157627_10153265014720411_391672583_nThe “average” woman is about 163 pounds and 5’4″ tall, and she wears a size 12 to 14, according to a study published by USA Today.
That makes me below average–I’m shorter (5′ even), smaller-sized (size 6 or 8) and weigh (a little) less than the average woman. But trends don’t tend to be designed for even the average woman–or for anyone except the 5’11” models who wear them best.
But there’s good news.
Short, small, tall, big and really all of us can adapt the trends to fit our bodies–and when we can’t, we can just avoid that one.
And there’s another reason this blog exists: to show everyone how they can look their very best each season. Because when we look great, we feel great too–and when we feel good, we do good. And when we do good, more good things come back to us.