I’ve had many ex-boyfriends in my single days. There is only one that I consider a true “Ex” though. He is an ex in every way. You know… the kind you never want to see, hear from or be in the same room as again. He was my first love in every sense of the word. He was the first guy I truly lost myself in. We had only been together a short while, maybe 2 – 2 ½ years. The first year was of solid togetherness, everything beyond that point was nothing more than two people trying to convince themselves that they were good for one another.
After our relationship had ended, he had become the figurehead for the dark side of my mind. Or should I say, he had become the one person I wanted to prove “wrong”. I got to that point when he started to tell me that I wasn’t what I had presented myself to be. When I graduated from high school, I came away wanting big things for myself. The community college I had been accepted to was just the first step down my golden path.
I met P during the first couple of months down my golden path. He was a chemical engineering student from India, pursuing his PHD at Michigan State. I remember when I first met him I admired that he was driven by challenge and had an inborn need to succeed. He was living the dream and I had just started on mine. We talked at length about how successful we were going to be and how sweet life would be when we reached the pinnacle of our success. He saw me as I saw myself; driven, outgoing, multi-talented. It wasn’t until I really fell in love, that all I wanted was to be with him. I’m not sure if I was in love with him because of who he was or if it was because he had the ability to make me disciplined (something I had never been).
Like every college student, I wasn’t solid in my career path. I had started out wanting to be a lawyer, then an elementary teacher, and the list went on from there.
After knowing him for only 3 months, I decided that I wanted to move in with him. I could say that it was the stupidest mistake of my entire life, but I realize that had I not made that move, I wouldn’t have then moved to the path that would eventually lead me to D. So, for that at least, I am thankful.
When moving in with him, I was scared straight. I put on a very different mask when I was with him but he kept pushing me to be and do more than what I was prepared for. At the time, I silently cursed him. Now, however, without that experience I never would have gotten a decent enough job to support my family.
Also during that time, I became depressed because of unfamiliar territory and gained weight. He was appalled by that. He would needle me and push and press and do everything in his power to make me lose the weight. I of course dealt with his pushing and guilt trips by eating in secret and lying to him about what I had eaten and where.
By the end of our relationship (well, the first time… which truly was the end in my opinion), I felt broken. Everything I thought I was at the beginning of my college years, I ended up being less than by the time he had gotten done with me. I allowed him to break me down. I allowed him to steer me off of the golden path and onto some scary route with crooked trees and pot holes.
From that point, I became a new me. I had to re-invent myself all on my own without the guidance of my parents. They could only be listeners to my tale because they had already given me 18 years of tools with which to make decisions that would steer me in one direction or another.
During the next post or two I will then describe what my ex had then become in my life.
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