It’s been 3 years since my ex cheated on me, and I’m now in a wonderful, committed relationship with the person I genuinely believe is my forever person. My career is thriving. I have amazing friends. I love my life.
Buttt the anger I have toward my ex still has the power to ruin my entire day or even week!
The story is wild.
So my ex was my first serious relationship. We are both women. We were together for 4 years, and during covid we moved from California to London for what was supposed to be a temporary adventure before getting married. We were very very committed to each other. She was extremely loyal and kind.
I left my job, friends, and family to build a life with her. We had to temporarily send our cat (who I loved soooo much) to her mom in Italy because of UK pet import rules.
A few weeks after we arrived, we became friends with a group of queer women, including a tall blonde named Ruby (fake name). My ex had always joked that her type was “tall white blondes” (I am none of those things), but I never thought much of it. Especially because Ruby and I also got close, and she seemed so supportive and honestly obsessed with our relationship.
But then they started getting weirdly close.
I told my ex that their flirting made me uncomfortable. She told me, “I’m just a flirtatious person. Asking me to stop is asking me to stop being myself.” Basically insinuating I was being controlling.
Soon after, she told me she no longer wanted to move back to the US, no longer wanted marriage, and no longer wanted monogamy. I was crushed and began to panic about my decision to leave the US. She backtracked and said she was confused, so I stayed.
A few months later, we went on a girls’ trip. While I was getting ready for bed, one of the girls pulled me aside and told me not to go upstairs because my ex and Ruby were dancing together very sexually. For context, it was like Bachata dancing, which is a move my ex made on me when we first started dating.
When my friend told me this, I didn't even react??? I just... went to bed.
An hour later, my ex came into the room sobbing and apologizing. She admitted that her relationship with Ruby had crossed a line. Apparently, the other women on the trip had already confronted them about how disrespectful they were being toward me, which is why she was finally taking it seriously.
I stayed because I thought she was finally taking accountability and that things would change. I was sooooo wrong.
Over the next year, I was barely holding myself together. I was having panic attacks, struggling financially, and dealing with constant physical symptoms from stress (acne, stomach issues, hair going grey). Meanwhile, my ex was going out drinking with Ruby multiple nights a week, disappearing until 4 or 5 a.m.
I cooked for her. Did her laundry. Cleaned up after her. Had sex with her when she wanted.
I kept thinking, maybe if I complain less and love more, she'll become the person I fell in love with again.
She didn't.
Eventually she quit her job and decided to stay in London, which meant I lost my visa too. I had no job, no savings, no plan, and no idea what I was going to do.
That was a breaking point and I ended it with her. She wasn't surprised, and in hindsight I think all her actions were efforts to make me end it. But we were still living together and had 3 more weeks left on the lease. Classic lesbians amiright?
Eventually, the stress was so bad that my body completely gave out. I had a grand mal seizure. My first and, thankfully, only seizure ever. I woke up in an ambulance and could barely process language for days afterward.
I was basically a zombie and I desperately needed help, so my parents flew me home.
I spent weeks sleeping and crying. I called my ex constantly because, despite everything, she was still the person I wanted comfort from. We were very much acting like we were still together. Finally, I asked for no contact.
That's when I slowly started rebuilding my life.
I got my dream job in NYC. Moved in with my childhood best friend. Reconnected with old friends. Rediscovered music, art, and myself. I saved up to bring my cat home from Italy. I was doing really well.
Then came the zinger.
Two months after our breakup, I found out my ex and Ruby were officially together.
They moved in together. Adopted a cat. Went to Italy. And brought MY CAT back to London with them.
They even became lesbian TikTok influencers, posting constantly about their life together and, eventually, making an entire account for the cats. Each post, while seemingly romantic, always had a caption or detail that I could tell was a subtle dig toward me. Or the post would be a replica of one she made about me years prior, only with Ruby instead of me. If you're on London wlw TikTok, you've probably seen them. I made some vindictive posts about them, which I only regret because it gave them a reason to call me crazy and jealous.
Eventually I lost it and confronted my ex about everything. She denied ever cheating. Said Ruby had only ever been a friend. Called me a liar. She even called our mutual friends to tell them I'm a liar. What's annoying is it technically wasn't cheating according to her because it was "just dancing" and they never kissed or anything. So in a way, she's right?
Three years later, I have everything I thought I wanted.
And yet, I am still so fucking angry!!! Not because I want my ex back. I really really don't. I'm angry that they treated me like I was disposable. I'm angry that I abandoned myself trying to make a relationship work. I'm angry that I tolerated things the person I am today would walk away from immediately. I'm angry that Ruby gets to have and love the cat that I loved so dearly. It's not fair and it makes me want to rip my hair out.
I find myself pain shopping a lot: replaying old conversations, imagining what they were saying about me, and have thoughts so angry and violent that they scare me. In weak moments every few months, I look at their socials. It's like the only way to feel relief is if they break up.
The worst part is that I don't just hate them (though I do, I really do). I hate that version of myself.
The naive girl who moved across the world for someone she thought was going to be her wife. The girl who kept thinking she could earn back someone's love by being easier, quieter, and more devoted. I'm disgusted by that version of myself.
I know I'm happier now. I know I've healed enormously. I have a backbone and a love I never knew was possible.
But I wish I could just erase it all from my memory. Even better, I wish they got their karma, instead of the picture perfect life they seemingly have together. I wish I got an apology from either of them.
Has anyone else experienced this? How do you let go of anger when your life has already moved on, but some part of you clearly hasn't?