That was ME???

One day, when I typed in the search word in my e-mail, I came across an old, old e-mail between the ex and me.  And after reading it, I cannot believe that it was me writing!



Without revealing the details of the e-mail, all I can say is that I was such a coward!  I wasn't me!  Before being with him, I was this outgoing, bubbly, free-spirited, and straight forward person.  I'm the type of person that wears my emotions right on my face.  But while I was with him, it was like I was under a spell or brainwashed or something, because that begging & sorry e-mail was so out of character for me.

He went on to complain about me not reading more Cosmo or girly magazines, because I preferred books like Lord of the Rings, etc.  It just makes me wonder why men (and women) can't seem to appreciate their significant other for who they are.  I mean, in my case, he said he loved me for who I was, but after moving in together, he started not liking who I was.  You know what I mean?  I was still the same bubbly and somewhat nerdy person, and he started to tell me to change.  I just don't get it.  And I know that it happens to a lot of other people, too.  You hear about it all the time, from men and women equally.  They complain about their significant others, like "if he were more caring" or "if she were less bitchy", and I always want to ask "what happened to loving each other for who they are?"

OK, I've side-tracked.  So I read a few more of the old e-mail exchanges from when I was in that relationship and had to log off.  It was almost like reading someone else's e-mails and just felt weird.  Why did I allow someone to tell me that I was a horrible person and BELIEVED it?  Why did I believe that there was love?  And worst of all, why would I allow the same thing to happen to me time after time by staying in that dark, twisted, violent relationship?

Thank God that I got out and took off.  It took some time to rebuild myself, but I eventually got myself back. It took some time and effort, but taking that step to leave was the most important, and probably the smartest thing I've done in life.

Though dreams of the dark past no longer haunt me, I still wonder, from time to time, if it was really me.