No trust, no love.
If there’s one thing I learned the hard way, it’s that some people just will never trust others. Such was the case with one of my exes back when I had started college. For the sake of this article, we’ll call him Max.
The first couple of dates were great, and I felt like we had long-term potential. The problem all started when Max found out that I had slept with around 20 men at the time.
He looked at me, “Twenty men? How the hell am I supposed to believe you’re going to be loyal to me?”
“Because I love you,” I said. “People who love each other are loyal to one another. Besides, I’m not with them anymore. I’m with you.”
He just didn’t see it that way, and he quickly made sure to tell me I was awful for having a past before him. I asked him what I could do to prove my trustworthiness and that I’d be loyal. He went through my phone and told me to delete every guy friend’s number.
So, I did. Before too long, his demands to “prove my honesty” began to get worse and worse.
He was very close to his mother. I decided that I should try to get them to warm up to me. I began to do cooking and cleaning. I also began to give him money so he could buy things for his brothers.
Within weeks, he began to question why I wasn’t hanging out with his mother and him after school. So, I switched up my schedule. I figured that, eventually, he’d realize he’s being silly and that he’d let me breathe a bit.
Within a month, his mother began to tell me how “unworthy of her son” I was, because I, a harlot, had been with other men. Despite him seeing me crying, looking at him for help, he did nothing. I began to wonder why he wouldn’t defend me, especially after my parents confronted me about his abusive habits.
Eventually, I had become so isolated that my own mother began to cry over losing me. And if anything, he seemed to have gotten more suspicious than ever before. After one particularly nasty blowout from his mom, it all finally clicked.
“Your family doesn’t love me,” I sobbed.
His mom realized the error of her ways, and began to backpedal her abuse, “Oh, I do, but…”
“YOU DON’T LIKE ME!” I shouted to him.
Quietly, she said, “Maybe you should go home for a breather. Come by tomorrow?”
He said nothing all this time.
I realized that night, no matter what I would have done, nothing would have appeased him.
Nothing I could have done would have earned me the love I so wanted, and nothing I would have done would have been good enough. That night, I called him and told him we were through.
I’m not going to lie, I smiled when I heard him start to cry over the phone. And I laughed when he begged for me back. Of course, I said no. The night that I dumped him, I made a silent promise to be as wild, slutty and crazy as I could be. I had sex with 40 people that week alone — and boy, it felt great to be free from his abuse.
During that final blowout, I realized I had made a grave error. A man who couldn’t trust me to be with him doesn’t have the capability to love someone like me. Ergo, he never deserved me, nor will he ever find anyone who would be with him.
It’s been about 11 years since we broke up. Right now, I’m single and have no interest in dating men seriously. I have my own life, filled with friends, fun, and family. I can have sex with whoever I want.
As far as Max goes, I honestly don’t care what happened to him. He’s not worth that much attention, anyway.