Let’s get one thing straight: he cheated, and it wasn’t about his wife.
It wasn’t about her body.
It wasn’t about her loyalty.
It wasn’t about her love.
It wasn’t about anything his wife did—or didn’t do.
It was about him. And about the type of woman who willingly became the other.
To Him: The Weak Man in a Husband’s Skin
You had a woman who loved you fiercely. She built a life with you. She supported you when no one else did. She believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.
You threw it all away for a cheap thrill.
That’s not manhood.
That’s cowardice.
Cheating is a choice.
Your choice screams narcissism: you need validation constantly and will sacrifice anyone in your way to get it.
Your choice screams impulsivity: you act on wish without restraint.
Your choice screams emotional immaturity: you run from discomfort instead of facing it.
Your choice screams entitlement: you demand loyalty while giving the absolute bare minimum in return.
Don’t dare blame her.
Your wife wasn’t lacking.
You were.
To Her: The Mistress Who Thought She Won
Then there’s you. The other woman. The one who slithered into someone’s life, thinking you were clever, assuming you were special. You weren’t chosen because you were better. You were chosen because you were willing — willing to lie, willing to sneak, willing to be a secret.
Psychologically, your choices reveal:
Low self-esteem: settling for scraps and calling them treasure.
Validation addiction: mistaking stolen attention for real worth.
Lack of empathy: watching destruction unfold without remorse.
Predatory tendencies: Sometimes, even enjoying the power of someone’s pain.
You Didn’t “Win.”
You grabbed a liar, and you call him a prize. That’s not power. That’s desperation. There was no competition.
None.
He didn’t cheat because his wife wasn’t enough. He cheated because he’s weak, selfish, and incapable of facing his own flaws. He didn’t choose you because you are superior. You were chosen because you were willing to join in his betrayal.
That’s not love.
That’s chaos masquerading as passion. He’s a man who can’t face himself honestly. The mistress thrives off validation and destruction. Together, you embody a toxic cocktail of dysfunction. You are two broken people who feed off each other’s weaknesses. You leave wreckage in your wake. You two will continue to rot in your mess. Keep lying to each other. Keep feeding your delusions. Keep proving every flaw in your characters.
To the woman who stayed loyal.
You gave love, trust, honesty, and most of all loyalty. To the one who you thought deserved it all and instead you received the ultimate betrayal. His cheating says nothing about you.
Your worth is untouched.
Your integrity is intact.
You didn’t lose.
You weren’t the cause.
You are not the problem.
You are free.
You will become stronger.
You will become whole.
He cheated because it was about him. It was about everything broken inside of him.
I’ve been smiling for as long as I can remember. People often told me I had a “bright” presence, that I lit up a room. They never knew how much effort it took to keep that light burning.
My story started long before adulthood—back in a childhood that should have been safe but wasn’t. Behind closed doors, trust was broken, words were sharper than knives, and love was often twisted into something unrecognizable. I learned to endure. I learned to stay quiet. And I learned that a smile can keep others from asking questions I wasn’t ready—or allowed—to answer.
As I grew older, the patterns didn’t disappear. They followed me. Different faces, different circumstances, but the same familiar ache. Abuse doesn’t always end when you leave a house. Sometimes it stays lodged inside you. It shapes what you think you deserve. So I kept smiling. At work, with friends, even in relationships where my voice was dimmed and my worth questioned. People saw resilience. Inside, I was barely holding on.
It’s astonishing how easily a smile convinces the world. No one thinks to look deeper. No one notices the exhaustion in your eyes when the corners of your mouth curve upward. And for me, the smile became second nature—automatic, protective, exhausting.
But I’ve started to see the cracks in my own mask. Sometimes I catch myself wondering: who am I smiling for? Is it still about keeping others comfortable, or is it because I don’t know how else to exist?
I’m learning, slowly, that healing doesn’t start with silence. It begins with truth. With saying out loud: yes, I was hurt. Yes, I carried it with me. Yes, I’ve smiled through it all, even when I wanted to collapse.
And maybe, just maybe, the smile doesn’t have to be a mask forever. One day it will be real. One day it mean not “I’m fine,” but “I’m free.”
Until then, I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep speaking. I’ll keep letting the truth out in small, fragile pieces. The smile never told the story. But, my voice finally can.
Some words aren’t meant to reach their destination, but still, they need to be written. This is one of them. You may never see this, may never know the way your presence shifted something inside me, but silence feels heavier than gratitude left unspoken. So here I am, writing a thank you note to someone who will probably never read it.
Thank You for Helping Me Heal
When I was at my lowest, when the world felt like a blur of aches and disappointments, you reminded me what it felt like to be alive again. Not through grand gestures, but through the little things, the laughter, the listening, the quiet ways you made me believe I was worthy of joy. Worthy of your love.
And then you were gone.
Ripped away, like a page torn out mid-sentence. The one who promised to stand beside me “always and forever” wasn’t there when the silence came crashing in. I had to finish the healing without you, and some days it felt impossible, like trying to sew a wound with nothing but shaking hands and broken thread.
But I did it.
Not because you stayed, but because you left. And still, even in that ache, I find myself thanking you. Because I would not have known the depth of my own strength without the memory of your love to remind me I was worth saving.
Thank You for Helping Me Grow
Being around you reminded me that growth isn’t always gentle. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable, sometimes it means letting go of the very things you want to hold on to forever.
You once told me you’d be there to hold my hand through the storms.
I believed you.
I leaned on that promise like it was a lifeline.
But when the storm came, you weren’t there, and I had to learn to stand alone, drenched and shaking, until I found my footing again.
That absence broke me.
But it also forced me to grow in ways I never would have if you had stayed. I had to dig inside myself for roots I didn’t know existed, for wings I wasn’t ready to use.
You promised me growth together, yet what I got was growth apart. Painful, jagged, unwilling. Even in leaving, even in the cruel silence of your absence, you gave me a gift: the knowing that I am capable of becoming whole without you.
Thank You for Reigniting My Passion
Before you, my dreams felt like faint sketches, things I had once cared about but tucked away for “someday.” But you reminded me of the fire I had inside me, the one I thought had burned out. Do you remember how you used to look at me when I spoke about my dreams? The way your eyes lit up, as though you could already see the life I wanted unfolding right there in front of us? For the first time in years, I felt believed in. I felt like my fire wasn’t foolish, that maybe it was something sacred.
But when you left, chasing those dreams meant carrying the weight of your absence with me. Every step forward hurt, because it felt like a betrayal of the life we once envisioned side by side. My passion became a battlefield, me, chasing what I love, and the echo of you reminding me that I was supposed to be chasing it with you.
And yet, even through the grief, I can’t erase the truth: you reminded me of who I am. You gave me back my hunger for life, even if I had to feed it alone. I wouldn’t be chasing this fiercely if not for you. That’s why, even through the tears, even through the hollow space you left behind, I thank you.
Letting Go, with Gratitude
The hardest part was realizing that I couldn’t keep you and keep myself at the same time. Letting you go was not a choice, it was survival. Holding onto you would have destroyed me, because I couldn’t keep loving someone who was no longer there. And yet, releasing you felt like carving out the very heart I’d built around us.
“Always and forever” turned out to mean “once and no more.” I had to rewrite every story I thought I knew about love, about promises, about trust. And though I still ache, though I still sometimes reach for the ghost of you, I know now that letting go was the only way forward.
I carry gratitude laced with grief. Gratitude for the way you touched my life, gratitude for the healing and the growth, gratitude for the fire you sparked, even though you weren’t there to see me rise from the ashes.
This is my thank you note to you—though you will probably never read it.
Ever found yourself saying yes when every fiber of your being wanted to scream no? Or apologizing for something that wasn’t even your fault—like the weather, traffic, or the fact that you exist? If so, you might be tangled up in the exhausting web of people-pleasing.
And honestly… can we not?
What Is People-Pleasing, Really?
People-pleasing isn’t just being “nice.” It’s a psychological pattern rooted in the belief that your worth depends on keeping others happy. It shows up in behaviors like:
Always agreeing, even when you disagree. Taking on more than you can handle because saying no feels “mean.” Avoiding conflict at all costs, even when it costs you. Apologizing excessively (even when the barista gets your name wrong).
It often starts with good intentions—wanting to be liked, maintain harmony, and avoid conflict—but can morph into a chronic cycle of self-betrayal.
The Psychology Behind It
People-pleasing is more than a personality quirk; it’s often tied to deeper psychological roots:
Attachment Styles If you grew up feeling that love was conditional—based on performance, obedience, or approval—you might have learned that pleasing others is the safest way to avoid rejection. Fear of Rejection Our brains are wired for belonging. Evolutionarily, being excluded meant danger. Today, exclusion just means fewer likes on Instagram—but our nervous systems don’t know that. Perfectionism & Self-Worth When self-worth equals “how useful I am to others,” boundaries feel selfish and saying no feels like failure.
Why It’s a Problem
Here’s the thing: chronic people-pleasing isn’t harmless. It often leads to:
Burnout (you can’t pour from an empty cup, remember?) Resentment (toward the very people you were trying to please) Loss of identity (who even are you when you’re not saying yes?)
Over time, you start living a life curated for everyone but you. And that’s not kindness—that’s self-erasure.
Can We… Actually Not?
So, how do we start untangling this? Here are a few steps to reclaim your sanity (and your schedule):
Pause Before You Say Yes
When someone asks for a favor, practice saying: “Let me think about it.” This gives you time to check in with your actual feelings.
Start Small with Boundaries
If saying no feels terrifying, start with low-stakes situations. Decline that extra side project. Say no to the group text that drains your soul.
Check Your Why
Before agreeing to something, ask: Am I doing this because I want to, or because I’m afraid of what they’ll think if I don’t?
Replace Apologies with Gratitude
Instead of “Sorry I’m late,” try “Thanks for waiting.” It shifts the dynamic without unnecessary self-blame.
Therapy Helps
People-pleasing is often tied to old wounds. A therapist can help you unpack those patterns and build healthier boundaries.
Final Thought
People-pleasing might feel like kindness, but real kindness includes yourself. So next time you feel that automatic “yes” rising in your throat, pause, breathe, and ask yourself:
“Can we not?”
Because the world doesn’t need a more agreeable you—it needs a more authentic you.
You haven’t spoken to me in a year. You don’t know the person I’ve become, the changes I’ve made, or the lessons I’ve learned. Yet somehow, my past mistakes are still sitting in the room between us like uninvited guests.
I said I was sorry.
Not because it was easy, but because it mattered to me. Because I valued what we had, and I understood the weight of what I did. But sometimes, it feels like those words fell into a void—echoing back as reminders of who I used to be, not who I am today.
When Apologies Get Stuck in Time
The hardest part about growth is realizing that some people will never see it. They freeze-frame you at your lowest moment, even as you’ve worked tirelessly to move forward. They clutch the version of you that made the mistake and hold it like evidence in a trial that never ends.
But here’s the truth:
I am not that person anymore. I can own what I did without being defined by it forever. My apology was real, but so was my evolution.
Why Do We Do This to Each Other?
Maybe it’s easier to hold on to hurt than to risk trusting again. Maybe forgiveness feels like surrender, like saying what happened didn’t matter. But forgiveness isn’t forgetting. Forgiveness is freedom—from resentment, from bitterness, from being chained to a version of the past we can’t change.
When you refuse to let go, you’re not just punishing me—you’re punishing yourself.
What You Don’t See Now
You haven’t heard the way I talk to myself differently now.
You haven’t seen the boundaries I’ve built to prevent old patterns.
You don’t know the nights I spent unpacking the “why” behind my choices, the therapy sessions, the quiet prayers, the relentless work of becoming someone better.
You only know who I was. Not who I am.
So Here’s What I Need You to Understand
I said I was sorry because I meant it.
But if you can’t see beyond the apology—if you can’t allow space for redemption—then that’s not about me anymore. That’s about what you’re holding on to. You projections will no longer hold me back. I won’t stay stuck in a story that no longer fits.
It’s tied to comfort, celebration, memories, identity, and sometimes, frustration or guilt.
For many of us, the question isn’t just “Am I eating the right things?” but “How do I actually feel about eating?” Examining your relationship with food can help you move toward eating with less stress and more ease. This isn’t about rules or perfection, it’s about curiosity, compassion, and connection with yourself.
Notice Your Food Stories
Every person has a “food script” they’ve been handed, messages from childhood, culture, and past experiences. These scripts are often so ingrained that we don’t even realize they’re shaping our eating choices.
Common examples include:
“I must finish everything on my plate.”
“Treats are a guilty pleasure.”
“I need to earn dessert by exercising.”
Interactive Prompt:
Write down 3–5 food rules or beliefs you’ve noticed in your life. Next to each one, ask:
Where did I learn this?
Does it serve me now?
**You don’t have to throw out every old belief at once. Sometimes awareness is the first and most powerful shift.
Tune Into Hunger and Fullness
Our bodies have built-in cues for when to start and stop eating, but many of us override them. Work deadlines, social norms, or diets can make us eat because it’s “time,” not because we’re hungry, or keep going long past satisfaction.
The Hunger–Fullness Pause:
Before eating: On a scale of 0–10 (0 = starving, 10 = painfully full), where are you right now? Halfway through your meal: Pause, check the scale again. Do you want more food, or more of a break? After eating: Notice how your body feels—comfortable, sluggish, energized
Interactive Prompt:
Keep a mini log for three days, not to track calories, but to notice patterns in your hunger and fullness scores. See if certain times of day or emotions affect them.
**If this feels strange or difficult, you’re not broken, you may have just been disconnected from these cues for a while. They will get stronger with practice.
Emotional Eating Without Shame
We all eat emotionally sometimes it’s part of being human. Food can comfort, distract, and soothe us. The key is noticing when it’s happening and why, rather than judging yourself for it.
Try This Exercise:
Next time you reach for food and you’re not physically hungry:
Pause for 10 seconds.
Ask: What am I feeling right now? (lonely, bored, stressed, happy, restless)
Ask: What do I actually need? (connection, rest, movement, quiet)
You may still choose to eat and that’s okay. You’ve simply made a conscious choice rather than an autopilot one.
**Think of food as one tool in your emotional toolbox, not the only one.
Diversify Your Joy
If food is your main source of comfort or fun, life can feel flat without it. That can make eating feel overly charged, like the only way to celebrate or self-soothe.
Interactive Prompt:
Make a “Joy Menu” of at least 10 non-food activities that bring you pleasure or comfort.
Examples:
Walking outside barefoot in the grass Dancing in your kitchen to one song Reading in a cozy chair Calling someone who makes you laugh
**You’re not replacing food, you’re expanding your life so food isn’t under so much pressure to meet all your needs.
Seek Neutrality With Food
When foods are labeled good or bad, eating them can trigger guilt or rebellion. That mental tug-of-war can make eating feel exhausting. Instead, aim for food neutrality seeing foods as having different nutritional roles, but not moral value.
Thought Shift:
Instead of: “I’m bad for eating pizza.”
Say: “Pizza is delicious and satisfying. My body also benefits from vegetables and protein. I can have both.”
**If certain foods feel “off-limits,” try incorporating them in small, mindful ways so they lose their all-or-nothing power.
Consider Professional Support
If food feels like a daily battle, whether through binge–restrict cycles, fear of certain foods, or constant guilt. It can help to work with a registered dietitian or therapist who specializes in intuitive eating or disordered eating.
Reflective Prompt:
Ask yourself: How much mental space does food take up in my day?
If the answer is “a lot,” that’s a sign you might benefit from outside support, not because you’ve failed, but because you deserve a more peaceful relationship with eating.
**You don’t have to hit “rock bottom” before seeking help. Support is for anyone who wants more ease with food.
Some Final Thought:
This isn’t about fixing yourself, there’s nothing broken. It’s about getting curious, listening more closely, and slowly loosening the grip that stress and guilt can have on eating. Over time, your relationship with food can shift from one of rules and pressure to one of trust, balance, and joy.
Our two souls were destined to find their place in the vast expanse of time and space. Bound together by a deep love, a connection we promised always to keep.
In a world where chaos reigns supreme, we were each other’s guiding beam. Completing the other in every way, our love grew stronger each day.
Soulmates, we are two halves of one; our bond was forged before time began. We navigated each other through this life in moments of joy and strife.
Through trials and tribulations we might face, this love will always find its place. As soulmates, we are forever intertwined in a love that does not know this earthly side.
Let’s journey together, hand in hand, embarking on an adventure so grand. Through valleys deep and mountains high, under the vast and endless sky.
We’ll brave the storms and bask in the sunlight, facing challenges with all our might. Side by side, we’ll overcome every trial with laughter and love, all the while exploring unknown paths, forging ahead with courage and faith, and no fear to dread. Together, we’ll create memories anew in this journey, me and you.
So take my hand, and let’s walk this road together, sharing the heavy load. In this journey, we’ll find our way together forever, come what may.
I’ve been researching lately and have gotten away from the more down-to-earth conversation style. This topic has been nagging at me for a while now, and I wanted to get my readers take on if they have ever been in this situation. Over the last few years, I have relearned that effective communication is the bedrock of all human relationships, is vital for resolving conflicts, helps us foster an understanding of each other, and truly helps rebuild connections. However, when estrangement clouds a relationship, communication becomes a monumental task.
Estrangement is often the result of profound misunderstandings, deep emotional wounds, or continued personal conflicts. It creates a formidable barrier that hinders genuine dialogue. I would like to discuss the trials of communicating with someone you are estranged from, examining the emotional, psychological, and practical challenges, and offering strategies that may help you navigate the complicated terrain.
Emotional Landscape
Let’s start with the emotional dimension, as it is arguably the most significant challenge in communicating with an estranged person. The act of becoming estranged from another person typically stems from deep-seated emotional wounds from a relationship, resulting in a plethora of negative emotions such as anger, resentment, fear, and sadness. These emotions, if not expressed and dealt with, can severely impede the ability to engage in constructive dialogue to fix the situation.
The mere thought of initiating contact with an estranged individual can evoke intense emotional responses within us. A fear of rejection, anxiety about confrontation, and memories of past hurts can paralyze any attempts to communicate. Being transparent, both parties may harbor unresolved feelings that cloud their judgment and impede their natural abilities for open communication.
Resentment and anger often simmer beneath the surface in most estranged relationships. Like a slow boiling pot of water, these emotions can lead to defensiveness, making it difficult for either party to listen empathetically or acknowledge each other’s perspectives. Anger, in particular, can result in immediate aggressive forms of communication, further entrenching the divide that is already established.
Effective communication requires vulnerability. This is a willingness to expose one’s feelings and admit mistakes. It is far from easy for anyone, regardless of the current situation. For estranged individuals, this vulnerability can be terrifying. The fear of being hurt again or having one’s emotions invalidated can stifle sincere and honest conversation.
Beyond emotions, psychological factors also play a crucial role in communication difficulties. These factors can distort our perceptions, create misunderstandings, and perpetuate the continued cycle of estrangement. That is unless we take a deep breath and try to start from a place of peace.
Our brains, as wonderful as they are, can distort how we perceive each other’s actions and intentions. This leads us to favor information that confirms our feelings about the other person’s negative behavior over that of their character rather than potential situational factors. This reinforces our negative views of the other person and hinders the reconciliation efforts. When we are estranged from another individual, we often interpret their words and actions through a lens of suspicion and mistrust. Innocuous statements can be misconstrued as hostile, and well-intentioned gestures may be viewed with skepticism. This miscommunication exacerbates the estrangement, creating a vicious cycle of misunderstanding.
Add to this our excellent internal defense mechanisms, such as denial, projection, and rationalization, and we can make up any story we want with a few misguided gestures. These defenses protect us from emotional pain and prevent us from acknowledging our role in the estrangement or understanding of the other person’s perspective.
Practical Challenges
As if the emotional and psychological hurdles weren’t enough, lets take a moment to explore some more practical challenges that can complicate attempts at effective communication with someone we are missing. Physical distance, time constraints, and differing schedules can make it challenging to find opportunities for calm communication. In today’s digital age, while technology can bridge some gaps, it also presents challenges. Such as miscommunication through text or email where tone and intent can be easily misconstrued. We’ve all been there, when a simple Ok makes us red in the face because of the angery voice inside our head.
Friends, family members, or other third parties may influence the estranged individuals’ desire to communicate, often exacerbating the situation. Well-meaning but prejudiced advice can implant negative views and discourage any attempts at reconciliation.
Finding a neutral and supportive environment in which both parties can feel comfortable communicating is critical. Public places may not provide the privacy needed for honest, open dialogue, while familiar settings associated with past conflicts may trigger negative emotions. You may need to get creative about finding or creating a safe and neutral space essential for productive communication.
Effective Communication
Despite this, effective communication with an estranged person is not impossible. What are things we might be able to do to assist in the initial stage of reconciliation? Before attempting to communicate, both parties should self-reflect to understand their emotions, biases, and contributions to the estrangement. This could be done alone or with a therapist. Developing emotional regulation skills can help in all aspects of our lives as it will help us manage intense feelings and respond calmly during stressful interactions. You might be in luck if you have never tried mediation or counseling. Due to the World Wide Web and social media, a simple search of either buzzword will give you enough options to scroll through for hours. Now, not all of what you might find will be helpful. Remember that everyone needs help at some point in their lives, and it doesn’t make you any less of a person. Counseling and meditation can provide a structured environment for you to learn more about yourself and how you can effectively communicate with those around you.
If things are complicated, but both parties are willing to work on the issues that are dividing them, court mediators or a therapist can help facilitate dialogue, ensuring that both parties feel heard and understood. They can also offer tools and techniques to improve communication and address underlying issues as you navigate your journey.
Approaching conversations with clear intentions and boundaries can prevent misunderstandings and manage expectations. Both parties should start by articulating their goals for the conversation, whether seeking closure, a better understanding what went wrong, or rebuilding the relationship. Setting these boundaries around sensitive topics can help keep the dialogue focused and respectful. Active listening is also something that both parties dealing with estrangement need to understand and practice. This involves fully concentrating on the words being spoken, understanding the other person’s point of view, responding with consideration, and remembering what the other person is saying while you are responding. This type of communication requires empathy, which is the ability to understand and share the other person’s feelings, not getting defensive or feeling attacked by their words. Practicing active listening and empathy can help break down barriers and foster mutual understanding in any relationship, not just those currently struggling. I have learned that communication can be improved by using “I” statements. This focuses on expressing one’s feelings and experiences rather than blaming or criticizing the other person. For example, saying “I feel hurt when…” instead of “You always…” can help reduce the other person’s defensiveness and open the door to more constructive dialogue. Now, this is a two-way street. No one is perfect, and this is the part where real hard work is done. If the relationship you are trying to save is worth it for both parties, you will see and feel active participation; if not, you’ll know not to waste your breath and move on.
Patience and Persistence In-person conversations may be ideal for addressing complex issues, but if that’s not feasible, video calls, phone calls, or even letters can also be effective. The chosen medium should facilitate clear and respectful communication. While it’s important to acknowledge past issues, dwelling excessively on past conflicts can hinder forward progress. Focusing on the present and future, and discussing how to move forward constructively, can help shift the conversation towards reconciliation.
Rebuilding communication with an estranged person is a gradual process that requires loving patience and steadfast persistence. Recognizing that progress may be slow and setbacks are inevitable is essential. Staying committed to the process, even when challenging, is crucial for both parties to see each other’s willingness, which hopefully leads to reconciliation.
Communicating effectively with someone you are estranged from is a challenging endeavor fraught with emotional, psychological, and practical obstacles. However, through some self-reflection, a little emotional regulation, maybe even a tad of professional help and mediation, and a lot of active listening, we can show each other a commitment to patience and persistence to fix the bond and relationship that has been tattered. It is possible to navigate and rebuild a meaningful connection. The journey may be difficult, but the potential for healing and reconciliation makes the effort worthwhile.