It’s the long weekend, and I’ve had nothing to do but think. And what I keep coming back to is this: why am I always the one who has to do the hard, soul-crushing job of telling another woman that we’re seeing the same man?
If you saw my last post, you know I just had to expose my now, ex to his fiancée. I didn’t even know she existed until she told me they were engaged. That moment hit like a truck, but it also felt painfully familiar.
Because this keeps happening to me. Here’s the pattern, every time:
At 19, was my first real relationship. A year in we had to be long distance, only for me to find out he was cheating with another woman. She was in disbelief, and honestly, so was I. But I told her anyway, because she deserved to know the truth. Turns out he was just using her for her papers while pretending to be single.
A few years later at 22, I fell so hard for someone else. Only to find out he was engaged too, and had no intention of leaving his fiancée. I didn’t tell her, because someone else had already messaged her and she brushed it off as a “prank.” I knew if I came forward, I’d be dismissed too.
At 24, I started seeing a much older man, thinking that maybe age meant maturity. He told me he wanted to marry me. Meanwhile, he was going on dating apps, meeting women, and doing hanky panky behind my back. I ended up exposing him too. Thankfully, the other woman was a girls’ girl and appreciated my honesty.
And now at 26, here I am again. Another man, another lie, another fiancée I had to warn.
It’s draining. It’s heartbreaking. I find out the truth, I process the betrayal, and then I carry the extra burden of being the one to tell her. Not because it’s easy, but because I’m a girl’s girl to my core. I can’t sit back and watch another woman be fooled.
But after all that, I still get the “I told you so’s” from family and friends. I don’t get to be the one who moves on unscathed. I’m left with the emotional labor, the exhaustion, and the mental scars.
Sometimes I wish I could be the bad guy. The heartbreaker. The one who walks away untouched while everyone else cleans up the mess. Instead, I do the right thing and somehow always end up the one who gets hurt the most.
I’m just… tired. So tired.