To The Girl Who Had His Heart Before Me

To The Girl Who Had His Heart Before Me

A thank you letter to the girl who loved my boyfriend before I did.

His phone lights up.

The screen shows a name that I know all too well...

For a brief moment, I wonder why you're calling him. Even though I try to convince myself not to care or to think a second thought about it. I don't want you to get into my head, consuming my thoughts with "what if...," getting the best of my insecurities that think that you could once again waltz back into his life and make him happier than I can. But, most importantly, bring up old feelings and memories in his mind of you, the person who once had his heart.

The contact that you try to initiate with him is unnecessary.

It isn't right.

He has moved on from the heart break that you caused him just as I wish you could move on and heal form the hurt that I know he caused you. But, in order to move on and assure you that his heart is in good hands, there are a few things I want you to know.

To the girl he loved before me:


This is probably a letter that you never expected to receive but life has a crazy way of doing things that we least expect. Even though you and I have never actually met, I feel as though I know you (at least a little bit). After all, we have to have at least a similar taste in men to have fallen for the same man. Maybe we're more alike than what meets the eye or the pixilated images that I see when I browsed your Instagram a time or two to see what the girl who had his heart before was like.

This letter isn't meant to tear you down, disrespect you, or embarrass you in any way. I actually just wanted to say thank you - yeah, thank you. (I know that isn't what you were expecting).

There are so many things that I could tell you thank you for but I'll just acknowledge the big few:

Thank you for seeing how incredible he is. You know as well as I do how smart, sincere, sarcastic, and skilled he is. You saw the things that make him unique and so special. While you were with him, you saw the more personal, more vulnerable layers of his being that not everyone gets to see or he even realizes about himself.

Thank you for loving him in the way that you could love him. While with you, he learned how to treat a girl, how to make her smile, and how to make her feel adored. But, best of all, you showed him how to respond to our girly whims, mood-swings, and constant need for love and attention.

Thank you for being difficult. While he was with you, it wasn't always easy (no relationship is) but you taught him the importance of fighting for someone that he didn't want to lose. He realized that relationships take time, effort, and communication if they have any hope of working.

Thank you for breaking his heart. You left the boy who would do anything to make someone smile. I can't tell you enough how thankful I am that you broke his heart because now I got to meet this amazing man, discover all his quirks, and help him to mend his once broken heart into one that is hopeful and ready to love again.

There are a lot of things that I have to tell you thank you for and you may not believe just how thankful I am that you love the man who has stolen my heart before I had the chance to do so. I'll never be jealous of the time that you spent with him just as I hope that he isn't jealous of the time that I spent with the boys of my past. I'm thankful that you had the time that you did with him and loved him the best way that you knew how to, tried to make it work, and ultimately, realized that even though you were both trying that the love both of you had to give one another wasn't enough. The broken road that he was one after it ended between you both led the amazing man of your past to me.

He is the biggest blessing that I could have ever received even though when I first met him I didn't realize that he was God's answers to my prayers.

He makes me happy.

He makes me feel beautiful and understood.

I adore him.

He means so much to me. I hope you realize that. You once loved him and I know that there is still a place in your heart that still loves him and always will because those feelings don't just disappear. So, if you still love him at all then you'd want him to be happy - let him be happy. Let him be happy with me.

I try not to be possessive of him and jealous of the contact that you keep trying to initiate but, just listen...

Every time I see his phone light up with your name on it whether it be a phone call, text, or snapchat my heart stops and my mind begins to think the worse. I want to believe the sensible part of my brain that says you're just being a friend who wants to say "hey" but I don't know you; I don't know if you have an ulterior motive. To me, you are the girl who once had the heart of the man that has now stolen mind. I try to fight the insecurity that occasionally creeps into my heart and mind but it's hard to stop all the time. I'm only human. I'm only a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and wants to love the man that she never saw coming but now doesn't want to imagine life without.

So, from one girl to another please respect him and his right to happiness. You had your chance to make him smile and be "his girl," but that time has passed. Please, be a friend from a distance or be someone who encourages when he doesn't believe in himself. You know him better than many people; therefore, you know how big his heart is. Don't take his loving heart and kindness for granted. Every time you reach out to him, you know he's going to respond or feel the need to because that's the kind of person he is. He never wants to hurt anyone, especially those he cares about. So, for his happiness, please, be a friend but respect his space.


The girl he loves now

Cover Image Credit: Favim

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To The Parent Who Chose Addiction

Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.


When I was younger I resented you, I hated every ounce of you, and I used to question why God would give me a parent like you. Not now. Now I see the beauty and the blessings behind having an addict for a parent. If you're reading this, it isn't meant to hurt you, but rather to thank you.

Thank you for choosing your addiction over me.

Throughout my life, you have always chosen the addiction over my programs, my swim meets or even a simple movie night. You joke about it now or act as if I never questioned if you would wake up the next morning from your pill and alcohol-induced sleep, but I thank you for this. I thank you because I gained a relationship with God. The amount of time I spent praying for you strengthened our relationship in ways I could never explain.

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Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.

The amount of hurt and disappointment our family has gone through has brought us closer together. I have a relationship with Nanny and Pop that would never be as strong as it is today if you had been in the picture from day one. That in itself is a blessing.

Thank you for showing me how to love.

From your absence, I have learned how to love unconditionally. I want you to know that even though you weren't here, I love you most of all. No matter the amount of heartbreak, tears, and pain I've felt, you will always be my greatest love.

Thank you for making me strong.

Thank you for leaving and for showing me how to be independent. From you, I have learned that I do not need anyone else to prove to me that I am worthy of being loved. From you, I have learned that life is always hard, but you shouldn't give into the things that make you feel good for a short while, but should search for the real happiness in life.

Most of all, thank you for showing me how to turn my hurt into motivation.

I have learned that the cycle of addiction is not something that will continue into my life. You have hurt me more than anyone, but through that hurt, I have pushed myself to become the best version of myself.

Thank you for choosing the addiction over me because you've made me stronger, wiser, and loving than I ever could've been before.

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Batter Up

Because someone needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat a woman.


I have this memory from when I was younger,

I must have been six, maybe seven? An age

When you can remember, but not quite

Understand. I remember the landline

Ringing sometime in the middle

Of the night in my grandmother's small,

But adequate house. I had been sleeping,

Tucked under a shield of satin covers,

My grandmother next to me, blanketless,

And stiff, on the very edge of the queen mattress

Like she was anticipating some sort of disaster.

It wasn't the phone that pulled me from my sleep,

It was my grandmother's instant jerk, her eyes

Flipping open quicker than a light switch,

The mattress springing back up, adjusting

To the new lightness as she fled the room. My waking

Was soft like a song. Slow and humane.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, my ears absorbing the ringing,

My mind reminding itself that I was at my grandmother's house.

Then, the ringing stopped;

Abrupt, like a disarmed fire alarm.

It was just a drill, I thought.

But, then I heard the mumbling

From behind the door, panicked mumbling.

Rapid, like gunfire. My grandmother's Rs

Rolling down the hallway and under the door crack.

She only spoke Spanish when she was angry.

The call ended, my grandmother returned to the room,

Wrapped me in a blanket, and carried me into the night.

She buckled me into the backseat of her Toyota and said,

We were going to Auntie Mandy's house because someone

Needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat

A woman.

When we arrived at the house, we found the front door

Wide open, the house lights spilling out onto the porch.

A truck, I had seen once before, was parked a foot away

From the front door, aggressive. The truck had trampled

Over the dandelions and daisies, which lay wounded

In the front yard. A scene that begged for investigation.

My grandmother told me to stay put in my seat.

I watched as she walked to the back of the car, her normally pretty

Face turned straight, looked masculine. I watched as she pulled

Something wooden out of her trunk, then in her feline walk,

Approached the house. She turned to me, and I saw the

Baseball bat, immense in her female hands.

I slouched in my seat, the window above my head.

I never saw her go into the house.

I don't remember how long I sat,

Until the red and blue lights came.

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