I should start by saying that it’s been over a year since we’ve had contact. I’m a different person now. I’m sure you are, too.

Some things have stayed the same; I still ride horses. I still love SEC football. I still laugh freely, love my dog, and eat way too much cheese. I still go through all the motions I went through when I was with you.

But some things have changed, too.

When I broke things off with you, it was a raw, visceral reaction to a buildup of emotional damage I’d been suffocating under for over a year. I was at the end of my rope. Ending that relationship was, even to this day, the strongest thing I’ve ever done. You held me down for so long, kept me away from my family, my friends, my life. You stole from me, threatened me, disrespected me, and belittled me. You called me uninteresting, told me my passions bored you. You hated my religion, my parents, my body. Nothing about me satisfied you; nothing was good enough. You compared me to other girls, making remarks about them that still make me cringe. Everything you did to me, every word you said, chipped away at the already-fragile self-esteem I had worked so hard to build up.

You almost broke me.

After I broke up with you, the wounds were raw and painful, but I barely felt them. For the first week after it was over, I was filled with adrenaline and relief; I finally felt free again. I could spend time with my family and friends, spend money on things I wanted, and do all the things I had missed doing when you demanded all of my time. But this sense of relief ended quickly, coming crashing down around me when I checked my bank account several days later, and found you had withdrawn $400 from the account you made me give you access to. I was barely surprised. You had stolen from me before. The other times, though, I was so paralyzed with fear that I never called you out or asked for my money back. This time, I was angry.

You almost broke me.

This event was the first in a series that transpired post-breakup that forced me to reconsider everything you drilled into me. The fight in me came back. I wasn’t going to let you, or anyone, step on me. And even though you never gave me back what you owed me, I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. I knew you, and I knew that you were spending my hard-earned money on drugs, but I was able to take pride in being the bigger person. I prayed, and I forgave.

You almost broke me.

Then, I began to change. Instead of letting you break me, I got stronger. I was working harder than ever, making enough to have a disposable income that I could use to treat myself to the things you never did (only after I made sure to set up a separate bank account, of course). I took myself to dinner, to the spa, to the nail salon. I took care of myself like you never did. I didn’t let myself feel bad for doing anything for myself, because during the time we were together, you made me feel ashamed of myself, like I didn’t deserve nice things, and told me I should spend my money on things you wanted. I remember blindly letting you tell me what to spend my money on, because when we were together, I was so afraid of what you might do if I didn’t comply. Now, though, I have no fear. You don’t control me anymore, and I get to decide what I do with my time and money. I didn’t realize how it felt to live without fear in a relationship until recently, and I can tell you firsthand that the feeling is unparalleled. When we were together, I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know how a good relationship was supposed to feel, so I had no way of knowing that the way you were treating me was nothing short of abusive. I know that now, and I’ll never, ever forget it.

You almost broke me.

Now that it’s been more than a year since I got away from you, I’m finding more and more that even though you very nearly broke me, I also have a lot to thank you for, because there’s a lot of things I wouldn’t have done if I’d never met you.

I never would have gone to school at Mississippi State, the place God truly called me to be.

I never would have traveled to India a second time, fueled with a passion that had been rekindled after you kept me down for so, so long.

I never would have renewed my faith in God, which, while we were together, was the subject of so much ridicule. I’ll never let you, or anyone else, take my faith from me again.

I never would have met someone better, who loves me with so much sincerity and kindness, and I never would have known that he treats me how I really deserve to be treated.

Most importantly, I never would have learned how to love myself. I don’t just survive day-by-day anymore; I thrive. I rejoice in my successes and learn from my failures. I know myself better than I did a year ago, and I’m still growing. I’ve learned how to build myself up, and how to tune out baseless criticism from people like you.

So yes, you almost broke me. Almost. But you didn’t. And since I left you behind, I am different. I am stronger. I am better.