Sorting Through the Scraps
June 08, 2025
Sometimes we revisit a past relationship not to rewrite it, but to understand the pieces — so we can build something healthier next time.
I’ve been noticing something lately.
A recent moment of respect or consideration from my ex — even if it was just about our son — stirred something deeper in me. Not longing. Not regret. Just… reflection.
For a second, I found myself thinking:
“Was it all my fault?”
“Was there something healthy there that I just ruined?”
That’s not my grounded self speaking. That’s the voice of the critical parent within me — the one that always assumes I’m the problem. The one that finds ways to blame me whenever things feel unclear.
🪞 Projection and Misunderstanding
I don’t think I saw her clearly — but I don’t think she saw me clearly either.
She projected things onto me: that I was controlling, difficult, unsafe. And maybe, in moments, I did act in ways that reflected those labels. But they weren’t the whole truth.
The projections shaped me. They pressed on insecurities that already lived in me.
And the more I tried to prove I wasn’t those things, the more entangled I became.
That’s how misunderstanding becomes a self-fulfilling loop.
🧩 The Need to Understand the Scraps
I’m not trying to fix it.
I’m not even trying to justify it.
I’m just trying to understand the scraps — the fragments of what was, the emotional dust left behind — so I can build something more whole next time.
Because I don’t want to bring confusion into the next connection.
I don’t want to defend myself from ghosts.
I don’t want to prove I’m good to someone who’s already chosen not to see it.
🧱 A New Foundation
So I revisit the past — not to live in it — but to mine it for wisdom.
What did I ignore?
What did I mistake for love?
What parts of me were never safe to show?
The answers aren’t always clear. But they’re honest.
And honesty — not perfection — is what I want to build the next relationship on.
📝 A Note to My Future Self (and to My Son, if You Ever Read This)
If you’re ever in a relationship again and start to feel like you have to prove your worth — pause.
You don’t have to shrink, perform, or defend who you are.
The right person will see you, not just project something onto you.
They’ll want to understand, not just be right.
They’ll meet you — not manage you.
And if you’re reading this, son:
Know that even when things didn’t work out between your parents, I kept learning.
Not just for me. For you.
So you’d grow up seeing that love doesn’t mean losing yourself.
We can always begin again — but this time, from truth.