Seeing Her Side – A Healing Avoidant Reflection Of The Monster I Was

This isn’t a letter I ever planned to publish. It was something I wrote early in my healing—before I had the language I have now, before I had the clarity. My sister challenged me to try something radical: to write the story of my relationship from her side. What would it look like, not through the lens of my fear, but through the eyes of the woman I hurt?

I knew I wouldn’t get it all right. I knew I’d bring my bias into it, whether I meant to or not. But I did my best to imagine her voice—to name her pain. Not to speak for her, but to acknowledge what I failed to see when it mattered most.

It’s raw. It’s long. It’s unfiltered. And I won’t edit it to make myself look better, just a few edits for privacy and readability because the unfiltered version was a hot mess express. Much like I was after writing and reading it initially. Because healing requires truth. So here’s mine—told in a voice that’s not my own.

⚠️ Content Warning: This blog explores emotional trauma, heartbreak, and themes of self-blame and loss. Please read with care if you're in a tender space.

Giving this a Shot - an intro before her side

So I will never truly know how things have been for you. While you’ve always been more open with expressing how you feel, I have a better idea now than I even knew my own feelings during our relationship.

After talking with my sister about some things—and while I’m proud of the work I’ve done so far—she encouraged me to try to flip the script and see how you may have felt, or at least look at things through your eyes.

I will probably not even come close, and it will likely be a fraction of your side. It will be a struggle to leave out my assumptions and bias, but I’ll try to honor you without dismissing anything as much as possible.

Whether good or bad, I’ll give it my best to think how you may have actually thought about certain things, rather than the fear and avoidance from my side.

Here we go.

The Start – Cautious Hope

Welp, here’s another pretty cool guy on a dating app that’s not divorced. I know my worth, and appreciate his honesty telling me he’s in the process. That being said, I’ve gone through way too much to put myself at risk of him going back to his wife, so I’ll say goodbye for now.

Well, he said he respected my honesty, and he’s “a man of his word,” and would hit me up when it was finalized. Okay, guy, we’ll see. I liked your vibe, so if things happen that way, cool.

The Reconnection

Wait, who is this guy with this dumb Braveheart “freedom” filter? Ohh yeah, guess he kept his word after all. This could be interesting—maybe I’ll text him back.

Our story began during the pandemic. I’ve been working on myself after leaving an absolute monster. I hope God will finally bring me the man I know I’m worthy of.

Don’t know if it’s this character, but he’s pretty funny, and checks a lot of the boxes so far, so we’ll see where this goes.

We were texting for a few weeks, and I think we’re really hitting it off. So I eventually got the courage to see if you wanted to meet up for brunch.

I was pretty nervous about it—super awesome for my stomach issues. F*** my life. Like any first date, would you think differently of me in person? Would I not be what you expected? Ugh, what if you weren’t what I was expecting?

But here we are, at this little Buttermilk Café. It’s cute. You can tell it’s one of those old-people-have-come-here-forever type places. Maybe that will be us one day?

Totally kidding—I don’t even know this guy yet. I thought we had great conversation, I was feeling your vibe. Were you feeling mine? God, I hoped so, especially because I felt like I didn’t shut up and talked the whole time.

Then there was the whole, “Ohh, I shaved a dick in my dog accidentally.” What a way to break the ice—but f*** it. I’m me. If he doesn’t like or appreciate that, see ya.

After we finished up, you walked me to my car and hugged me. I know it wasn’t just me that was feeling the tension.

No attempt to kiss me? I can respect that though.

Our first date led to not really many more actual dates per se—damn pandemic. But totally okay with me because I hate actual dates. Like, dinner dates? Cool for a special occasion, but not my style. Again—thanks, stomach issues.

Luckily you seemed totally okay with us just hanging at my house or yours. Were you really though? Anyways, I really think things are going pretty good so far.

It wasn’t long after that I invited you to Austin with me. But before that, I better make sure you actually do like me, sir.

I think I’m a really good girlfriend, so hopefully I’ll get the answer I’m hoping for. Otherwise I’m on my way to Austin solo. No issues there—I’ve traveled in foreign countries and done my own thing without any problems. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I spent the time to carefully ask you in the cutest way to be my boyfriend. I know what I want. I hope you do too.

I was so nervous—but hey, I like you. I’m going for it.

Of course you said yes. You’d have to be an idiot or an a**hole to say no after the way I asked you, lol.

So on to Austin we went. Note to self: next time I’m making sure there’s a damn door for the bathroom. But I had a really great time—it was amazing.

I think you did too.

Falling in Love

More time went on. We were in love.

Finally—a guy that seemed to love and appreciate me for me. We’d had some really great conversations, and things were going really well.

You invited me to California with you to meet your mom and sister. This must really be leading to something special.

Are your sister and mom going to like me? You told me your sister hated your ex-wife. Same girl—and I’ve never even met the b****—but from what she did to those boys, it stirs up all kinds of emotions.

It reminds me of the exact same thing my biological dad did to my mom and me when I was little. F*** him. F*** her too.

Also, just my luck that the guy I’m in love with is another f***ing reminder of one of the very things I’ve spent years of therapy and work on myself to deal with.

But I love him. And so far, he’s worth it.

Like, I know you said your sister and I were similar—but damn. Kinda weird how similar.

I hope she liked me.

Your mom is adorable. This trip really meant a lot to me. I hope I passed whatever tests you were giving me.

Then again—I’m pretty awesome. So I knew I had it in the bag.

Meeting the Boys & Building a Bond

The next big step in our relationship was meeting your boys. You’d told me so much about them.

How my heart breaks for what they’ve had to go through. I’ve been there. I lived through that.

They really need therapy. I’ve told you that it would be a good idea for them. We’ll see if you actually do it though. But hey—you’re their dad. I’m not overstepping any boundaries just yet.

I was so nervous and excited to meet them.

But I’m pretty stellar with kids. Sh**, I’m a grown a** adult and still sit at the kids table during Christmas, lol. I got this.

But still… what will they think of this new woman you’re introducing them to?

They seemed a little shy, but I think it went okay.

We’ve talked a lot about it, and I want to set a proper example for them—by not invading or forcing them into just dealing with us being together. Not like how I was forced with my dad, or how they were forced with their mom.

We both seem to be on the same page with that, even though you’re a little less reserved than I am, sir. Let’s get those morals and hormones in check.

Umm also… what wussies they were cleaning out pumpkins. And the crying? Oh boy, that guy is a sensitive one, isn’t he? Lol.

But really—they are amazing.

And I’m so proud of you for being an amazing father and positive influence in their life.

It’s one of the things I love most about you.

The First Real Crack

More time passed. Things were going great.

And then—a statement that started a cycle for the next few years.

“They already have a mom. They don’t need another one.”

What the f***?

What happened for you to tell me that? Talk to me.

You know a lot of my story already. And part of that is not wanting kids of my own—but I can’t wait to be a stepmom.

Seriously? You tell me this?

I’m crushed.

I know we don’t agree on some things, but what is going on really?

The work I’ve done on myself helped me try to work through that knife in the back with you. I think we got past it… but still, that f***ing hurt.

I love you enough—and I think you love me enough—to get past that like adults.

We both have our issues. But I’m not quitting on you, even though this one stings a lot.

(Healing Avoidant here again. There were a lot of things that happened after this. I may not get all of the details or even the things that were most important to you down.)

Navigating the Highs & Lows

As the next few years passed, we had ups and downs—like any couple, I guess.

Many times, it felt like I was putting in more effort than you… at least from my point of view.

But you did show up sometimes too.

I really wish you would open up more.

I try to be as open as possible. You know my own struggles—but I’ve actually been actively working on myself. Hypnotherapy. My physical health. Taking care of myself. All the different jobs and the work drama.

You’ve been there for me… but at a distance.

I love you the most.

Do you know why I tell you that?

Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.

Why can you not get that through your big dumb head?

I know you love me too… but there are times when it really doesn’t seem like it.

I’ve tried to talk to you many times, and you shut down. All of the work I’ve done on myself is telling me to go.

But again—I love you the most. And I will respect your space.

I know boundaries pretty well, thanks to years of trauma and therapy.

You’ve set some. I’ve set some.

It is what it is, I guess.

I wish you would communicate better with me.

I know I like my space. We both are super work-organized. Your boys are your number one priority.

I don’t need much—because I’m independent.

But a little more would be nice.

I don’t know how many times I can ask without you either shutting down… or even getting mad about it.

Dreams Deferred, Distance Grows

We had conversations about the future.

I even put in offers on houses closer to you—so that we could see each other more often.

I’ve told you many times that I don’t want to live in a house that you and your ex-wife purchased and tried to make a home out of.

You didn’t even come look at any.

Well—one of them. But still.

You just kept yourself busy, doing your thing, while I do mine.

That really hurts.

I know you want to stay in country a** city for the boys. I get it. But you’ve never even had a conversation with me about it.

Just—“Welp, we can’t live together until the boys get out of school then.”

Another instance of me being crushed.

You didn’t even want to talk about it. Just made up your mind, and didn’t give my opinion a chance.

Do you even care anymore?

My mind is starting to fight and tell me to go… but my heart still says otherwise.

I love you. I love you the most.

That’s what I keep reminding myself of.

Why can’t you love me back?

Or even ask more about how I feel about things?

Panic, Apologies, and Deep Wounds

I know I’m not perfect. I have my own issues.

I’m OCD. I’m independent. My ADHD and other mental things—I typically have control of them when I’m on my meds. But I know there are lapses sometimes.

I try to be honest about all of those things with you.

I think you care… but I’m not sure how much, sometimes.

You are my safe space. My emergency contact. My everything.

But what am I to you?

I don’t know anymore.

There were a few times where I know I messed up—but I owned up and fully apologized with all of my heart.

(This part I’m not going to assume, because I don’t have the answers for all of it.)

I met up with an old boyfriend from high school.

I was having a panic attack the next day, called you—because you’re my safe space—and you blew the f*** up on me.

Not what I needed during a panic attack.

Eventually, you calmed down and did actually talk to me about why you were upset. You apologized for not handling it the right way initially, but I felt even worse.

I didn’t meet up with him with any ill intentions. He was a big part of my life during high school. We hadn’t seen each other in many years, so we were really just catching up.

Yes—I should have told you about it before. Or even that day.

I felt so crushed when you didn’t trust me.

It felt like you didn’t see who I really was, and that hurt more than anything else.

I knew after us talking just how much my actions hurt you as well, and it made me feel absolutely terrible.

I really am sorry for that.

I deleted his number. Said I wouldn’t be in contact with him ever again.

I even made sure to tell you a while later that there was a new person with the same name in my phone—and it was someone from work.

I thought we were okay after that. If nothing else, we had a hard conversation and got through it.

Maybe you do love me enough?

More time passed. And again—ups and downs.

Baseball seasons. Yay.

I’m put on the absolute back burner… at the lowest setting, again.

I loathe it. But I know it’s important to you.

I really wish you would be more considerate about my feelings though.

It really hurts that you don’t invite me to more—and sit out for a few games.

I’m not sitting next to your ex-wife.

I have no desire to be friends with her.

This was always something we did have disagreements about.

You are way too nice to her. F*** her.

You two do not co-parent at all—at least from what you tell me.

But… are you actually telling me everything?

I don’t fully know. But I’m not going to pry either.

This again brings up painful memories for me.

But I love you. And I will support you regardless.

Why can’t you have some consideration for me though?

That f***ing hurts.

The Final Break

I’d been through a few roommates.

One extreme f*ing b**. God, I wanted to beat her a** when I ran into her back home.

Then some cousins that came and went.

Then came a really hard conversation to have with you: the conversation of a man moving in with me.

You know my mental health. It’s better for me not to be completely alone.

Plus, a woman living by herself makes me uneasy as well.

I was trying to be a good person and help this dude out with his life change and living situation that fell through.

At first, you said you were fine.

Then a few days later—my world was rocked.

It’s like you had completely forgotten who I am. The values or morals that I hold dear. That I loved you at all.

You f***ing broke up with me yet another time.

I don’t know what went wrong.

What did I do to make you hate me that much?

What did I do to make you not trust me as a person—and your girlfriend—that much?

I understand how it could make you uneasy. But you really don’t trust me that much?

I was f***ing broken more than ever.

How could you have loved me at all—and not respected me and my morals at all?

Like they didn’t exist.

Like I was going to be some whore sleeping with this dude just because he was living here?

Is that how you viewed me?

I don’t think you know just how hard that breakup was for me.

We ended up getting past it.

I forgave you.

But I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted a ring and therapy.

Apparently, I didn’t make it clear enough.

Or… you just didn’t want it enough.

You didn’t want me enough. Because it never happened.

This time was eye-opening to me—because you did bring up that you had been drinking a lot.

More than I was ever aware of.

That also broke my freaking heart.

Why couldn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you say anything? Ask to get help?

Why was I not good enough for you to be honest with me about it?

I guess the only thing positive that came out of it was that you did actually quit drinking—at least to the best of my knowledge.

But I wish you would have started working on your other issues instead of just focusing on your physical health.

Maybe we would be in a different place than we are now.

Spring forward a few months—and we’re in 2024.

The worst year of my life.

You have no idea how much you killed my soul.

The concerts were great.

I tried to be there for you more.

It seemed like you were happy for the majority of the time… but as the year went on, more distance and silence went on than ever before.

That screamed so loud.

What do I do?

What am I doing wrong?

Are you even f***ing happy?

Do you even want to be with me?

Do you love me?

Have you ever loved me?

All things I questioned more than ever.

We tried living together for that week in July.

Sorry I was a couch potato—but what did you expect, lol?

It really upset me that we didn’t really talk about what was next.

Then our anniversary came and went.

Again, me trying—and you seeming “happy.”

I knew you weren’t.

I asked if you were.

You lied.

But I went along with it anyways.

Another slice in my breaking heart.

But I love you the most.

Then the beginning of the end.

The moments that you finally shattered my already breaking heart into an infinite amount of pieces.

The bullsh** you pulled after a concert.

You did let me come over and actually talk in person.

I was so upset, I physically got sick.

I’m sorry, but not sorry.

I didn’t want you to see me like that—it’s embarrassing.

But f***, I LOVE YOU THE MOST.

Why can’t you see that?

Why do I not matter enough to you to love me back?

What else do I have to do to prove to you just how much you mean to me?

I even tried surprising you—by coming way outside of my comfort zone and showing up to a game.

You didn’t even want me there.

You didn’t even tell your boys that I was there.

Do you realize how much that hurt me?

It’s like I didn’t exist.

I’ve never felt so unseen in my life.

I know after, it didn’t go well.

I could have not acted the way I did—because that’s what set you off for whatever reason, I don’t know.

You ended it.

I tried to come talk to you.

You dismissed me.

Threw me away.

Told me I’m never allowed at your house again.

My soul died that day.

Aftermath & Silence

We continued to talk via text a little after that.

I don’t know why you didn’t block me.

You had already removed me from your social media—so why keep any contact with me at all?

But a part of me thought… maybe this is just another one of his outbursts.

Maybe we’ll be able to fix this.

Maybe he will care and love me enough to want me.

But it never came.

With everything I’ve been through in my life—my dad leaving and forcing me to be okay with his new life…

All the sh** I’ve been through.

The therapy. The health issues. The mental issues. The various men always leaving me...

And here you were—the one I loved the most—walking away.

Even after all of the therapy and self-work I’ve done…

I don’t have it in me to do this again.

I told you that if we broke up, you would probably be the last man that I ever date.

I don’t have it in me anymore.

I thought you were the one.

What I didn’t think… was that you would be the one to end my belief in love.

My belief that I will ever be good enough for anyone.

I hope you got what you wanted out of this.

And still…

You will always be the one I loved the most.

From Me – The Man Who Broke Her

Healing Avoidant here.

I know I probably only got a fraction of any of that remotely close.

I know how selfish I’ve been—and how selfish I may still seem.

It absolutely crushes me that because of my words, my lack of words, and the actions you had to live through, you were made to feel unloved… unappreciated… unworthy—despite all the love you had for me.

And while I may be hurt, it probably pales in comparison to how you have felt.

There are no valid excuses I’m going to try and make.

There is nobody to blame but myself—because I wasn’t ready for the love you had to give.

It’s selfish of me to even think you would ever want to consider giving me another chance.

After everything I’ve said and done… and knowing the level of respect and boundaries you have for yourself… if I were you, I’m not sure I could do it either.

There is honestly nothing I can say or do to change your mind.

And I don’t want it to seem like I’m doing the work because I realize what I lost—who I lost. Who I pushed away. Shattered. Destroyed.

I have no valid reason why I couldn’t try to be a better person while we were still together.

But I also know I can’t sit in a place of self-pity hating myself forever.

I told you—I struggle every day trying to forgive myself.

It’s something I pray about daily… because I know it’s going to take more than anything I can do on my own to repair even a fraction of the damage.

It may have seemed like it was easy for me to push you away—especially in the end. But I didn’t just shatter your heart.

I shattered mine too.

I can’t say that what you’re feeling is something I’ve experienced exactly. And in the same way… what I’ve been feeling likely isn’t something you’ve experienced either.

Because you would never have done the things I did to you.

It’s a different kind of pain—knowing that you’re the monster in someone else’s story.

It’s a pain I can say with confidence I’ve never felt before.

That’s how important you truly are.

That’s how I know it’s real.

That’s how I know I am finally trying to do the right thing.

I’m really sorry I had to break both of us for it to happen.

You may never be able to forgive me for all of this—and I would never hold it against you.

I didn’t wake up one day and decide I wanted to be better for someone else.

Yes… I had to lose you completely to reset and refocus everything in my life. Otherwise, we would’ve just kept going in that same vicious cycle.

And I already put you through enough of it.

It really was the only way to break it.

I may never earn the chance for a fresh start with you.

I’m the one that ended things.

It’s something I will have to live with—whether you ever speak to me again or not.

I will have to live with that—just like you have to live with the pain I caused.

I’m not trying to use God as a scapegoat… but I do pray that He finds a way to heal the heart I shattered—because I know I cannot.

Just like you couldn’t get me to do the work to become the man you deserved.

I hope you come to know one day… that someone did actually love you more than you’ll ever know.

And I’m sorry my actions came too late.

I’m putting in overtime to catch up to where I should have been—before we ever met.

Because if there’s even a sliver of grace left… and you ever are able to forgive just enough… I know I’ll need to be a completely different man in order for us to get through this journey together.

Maybe it was all meant to happen this way.

Only God can answer that one for sure.

There’s a journal entry I wrote a while back about a mountain. I’d have to go back and look—pretty sure it was a dream I had. Or maybe a vision.

In it, you were already so far ahead of me. So far, you were above the clouds.

I couldn’t see you at all—but I knew you were there.

And I had a long way to go to catch up.

I fell back to the bottom so many times during that climb. But eventually, I made it to the base of the clouds.

And in that moment—your hand reached through the fog… to grab mine… and give me one last push so we could finish the journey together.

Writing this has made me feel like I just got knocked down that mountain yet again.

But knowing the kind of monster I was… is now the motivation to never be that again.

And I have to start climbing back up.

A lot of things still don’t make sense.

But I know I have to keep going—no matter what.

Out of the love. Out of the respect. Out of the truth that I do have for you.

I can only hope—and pray—that your hand will be there when I reach the clouds again.

But I can’t expect that it ever will be.

Maybe—just maybe—even through all of the pain…

You helped a man become a better man for you.

Because of how much he loved you, after all.

Maybe we both had to be utterly shattered through this… so we could finally see some things.

Some truths. Some patterns. Some wounds.

And maybe… just maybe… those things overlapped.

For me: That not everyone is going to leave you. That someone can love you—even through your monstrous moments.

And for you: That someone did love you enough to finally do the work on themselves before they could fully give you what you deserve.

So maybe… we both needed to be broken.

Not to break each other… but to break the cycles.

To start over—at a closer level.

To build what we never had, the right foundation for in the first place.

That’s what I’m trying to do right this time.

Even if it may never happen.

I am taking the steps I need to finally set the right foundation—so things don’t come crumbling down again.

Closing Reflection:

I didn’t write this to win her back. I didn’t write it to get a reaction. I didn't write this with the intention of anyone ever seeing it. I wrote it to finally see—what I refused to see when I was too consumed with protecting myself.

Maybe you’ve been the one who hurt someone like this. Maybe you’ve been on the receiving end. Either way, I hope something in this story gives you the courage to face your own truth with the same honesty I’m trying to live by now.

We can’t undo the past. But we can let it shape who we’re becoming.

💬 If you could see your past through the eyes of someone you hurt—or someone who hurt you—what would you discover?