13 Worst Things a Boy Had Ever Said to Me

I’ve dated this boy once who tried to erase me.  He tried to erase everything I was and make me completely anew. And the worst part; I let him.

I am still angry with myself to this day for being such an idiot. For letting him hurt me, for not protecting myself – the only person you can always count on to have your back.

I hate the way I was at that time. I remember looking into the mirror one day and not recognizing myself.

They say every girl has a princess in their childhood – I had Xena, the warrior princess. I never wanted to be a damsel in distress, to wear pretty dresses, or to act in a way only to be liked by others; I wanted to be a strong woman like Xena.

And when I looked at myself in the mirror that day, I knew I failed.

Basically, I’ve always argued the things I stand on. I am passionate, and yes sometimes I wave my hands around and my voice gets a bit louder. He said – I am ‘angry’, I sound ‘angry’, and apparently, when I talk about things, even when trying to prove my point – I should use a soft spoken voice like a lady. Ironically, when we broke up he said that one of the things that bothered him was that I always agreed with him and never voiced my own opinion.
      2.     BEING ANGRY IS BAD.
I guess I could put this under the first number. He said that anger is a ‘bad’ feeling that shouldn’t be felt or expressed. In fact, it should be repressed. You should just breathe and let it go.

Doesn’t it get you mad, just reading about this?

      3.     DON’T WEAR NAIL POLISH.
Girls, when a boy tells you he doesn’t like something about your look – tell him to go fuck himself. Apparently, nail polish didn’t suit me, neither did long nails. I shouldn’t wear nail polish at all, or just wear nude shades, or if I dare to choose an actual color – it should be matte.

I’m glad to inform you that while writing this blog piece I’m wearing long, black, almond-shaped, non-matte nails. And yes, I grew them myself.

      4.     DON’T COLOR YOUR HAIR.
His dumbass argument for this; ‘I think coloring your hair is a waste and stupid – if you’re coloring it a natural shade. If you’re going to color it, color it something vibrant, unnatural, like blue or pink. Definitely don’t get an ombre, it looks like you forgot to dye your roots.’

Now, my hair is a lovely shade of brown and blond at the tips – ombre is gorgeous!

I was wearing a red sweater. Quite happy with it. It was my birthday. I was at a jazz club with my friends. He whispered that in my ear.

You know what – I bet this wasn’t even about me looking older. I looked my goddamn age, it was him who looked thirteen.

What a catch this guy was.

Now, again, this should perhaps be under the previous number. He in fact, didn’t want for me to wear any vibrant color, not just red. He told me to wear nude, grey, beige clothes – and I felt like those colors were meant to sort of blend with the crowd. Don’t get me wrong, I love those colors, and most of my clothes are a ‘basic’ color, but it was his attitude about it – he wanted to make me as invisible as he could.

At one point I found myself in a Bershka dressing room crying my eyes out because I didn’t know if the sweater I wanted to buy was – because I wanted it, or because he would like it. That was at the time when I still tried to hold on to some of myself and my dignity. Ha.

      7.     DON’T WEAR MAKE UP.
You probably all saw it leading to this. Ah yes, I loved to wear a winged eyeliner, sometimes a bold lipstick. He told me I don’t look good with make up on, no wait, let me rephrase that as accurately I can: “Some girls do look good with make up on, but those have really good make up skills.”

      8.     DON’T BE JEALOUS.
I admit, I have some mild jealousy issues, which I mostly keep to myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the kind of person that would fly of the handle when I’d see a girl talking to my man – but I ought to be.

Here’s the story.

We’ve been dating by then for about 4 months. I was smitten (god knows why), I was in love, and we’re having this conversation:

ME: I just want to strangle my cousin. Last time he told me he’s dating 3 girls at the time, what a whore…
ASSHOLE: *Stays quiet for a while* You do know I’m dating other girls at the same time as you?

The fuck? How the hell am I supposed to know that?! Did you tell me? Did you ever even mention it? How is that common sense?!

 Guys, if you think this is common sense then you’ll have no problem telling this to a girl on your first (and probably last) date. If it’s really ‘not a big deal’ then grow some balls, or better yet – some ovaries because them things can take a pounding, and tell the truth to the poor victim you’ve chosen!
After that confession (mind you we were in a café and I’m not comfortable with public shows of emotion. Even though, the way I am now – I ‘d throw a scolding cup of coffee in his face.) he tried to convince me it’s no big deal, he never really asked me to be his girlfriend (which apparently in millennial terms means – you can fuck anyone and no need to tell because it’s common sense), that even though he is seeing other girls I’m his favorite, that when he met me he dumped all the others (and apparently since then got new ones)…

I stayed quite for the entire evening, complementing what to do. I was so stupidly in love that at the end I said – maybe it will work, maybe I can change my view on relationships.

Somebody please build a time machine so I can go precisely to that moment and slap the shit out of myself.

And another thing – I recently found out (even though this was two, three years ago) that at the time he even fucked one of my ‘friends’. So much for any kind of respect.

Ah, this one is fun. My birthday is on the 30th of December. I spent it with him, and as usually – slept at his place, and the next day was New Year’s Eve, which foolish me, expected to be spending with him, whom I’ve been with for half a year.

So, on the 31st December he asks me where I’m going to be for New Year’s Eve. I looked at him, confused, said I thought we’d be spending it together. He got angry (mind you he thinks anger is a bad feeling and shouldn’t be felt) and said ‘How ugly and rude of your to expect that of me’.

Ah yes, how dare I expect that one day after my birthday, of course he’ll go out, hunting for fresh victims to fuck.

No, it’s not a fear of germs. I don’t know how we got on this topic, I guess I must have longingly watched another couple holding hands – he said he doesn’t ‘believe’ in hand holding. He didn’t believe in public transport or hot showers either. We argued.

Foolish me, a few months after that – we went to see the turning on of the Christmas lights. It was freezing cold, packed with people. I intentionally forgot my gloves. When they were counting down I held my hands at my sides, hoping he would hold my hand at least this one time.

Well, he didn’t.

At the end of the night my hands were purple with cold and I had to warm them up under a warm faucet.

Should have worn the damn gloves.

Okay, this one is just plain stupid. He said I’m cutting the carrot wrong. I sighed. He said – it’s fine, cut it the way you want. And he kept looking at me cutting the carrot the wrong way, shaking his head.

Valentine’s day – again, stupid me thought it was a given I’d spend it with him. He said ‘Oh, fuck, Valentine’s day’s on 14th. I already made plans with another girl, she tricked me. Okay, I’ll spend it with you but only if you think of something fun to do.’

Oh my god – this was the fucking 1000th red flag! Somebody invent a time machine and go back in time and slap me around.

My heart was so beaten up by then, I hardly even felt that punch.

We went to see Deadpool on Valentine’s day. Good movie. We went to Chinese restaurant – his favorite, my least favorite food. He made me try the duck. A nice waitress gave me a plastic pink flower – the only thing I got on my first Valentine’s day ever spent with a boy.

When we got to his place he asked me if I wanted something for Valentine’s day – I said – a flower.
He said – then you should have gone out with my roommate, he’s a romantic.

At first, the first 8 months, we talked every day. We saw each other at least once, twice a week for at least two days. And then in the 9th month he was so insulted by me trying to talk to him – EVERY WEEK – not every day, once a damn week! How dare I, he doesn’t have time, he has a job now – this was his way of saying I was just something he filled his time with when he was an unemployed jackass. That I had no right.

The story ends one lovely afternoon when the asshole of this story says while we’re sitting on a bench, in front of the cinema, in public – ‘we should take some time apart’. I say – ‘be fair enough to say you want to break up’, he says ‘no, I don’t want that. I want you in my life.’

To sum it up – the asshole didn’t have enough balls to end it.

He left me crying in public, among a bunch of people, humiliated and went back to work. I had to call my dad to come and pick me up, crying my eyes out – my mom answered the phone at first and couldn’t understand a word so she thought I was robbed.

As I am laughing at some things in this blog, because let’s face, they’re just hilariously stupid, I am still balling my eyes out at the others.

This is a cautionary tale to other girls, and boys – if you have someone in your life that fits just a tiny part of this description – RUN.

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