The Anger Was Never About Her

I recently read a thoughtful piece about the rare maturity it takes to let go of an ex without turning them into a villain — about arriving at a place where, upon a chance encounter, you can genuinely say, “How are you? I hope you’re doing well.”

You can read it [here]. It’s a great read!

Today, while I was out on my SUP board with nothing but water surrounding me, my thoughts went even further.

Yes, I was angry at her for the way she acted in the relationship, for refusing to take responsibility, and for doing genuinely manipulative things. And somehow, after a year, I am finally reaching a point where I truly want to rid myself of that anger and resentment, because I know it poisons only one person. Just me.

I wrote in my journal, I talked to myself and to my therapist, I tried to forget, I kept going back to memories and old photographs…

And I’ve realized something.

If you are angry at someone, it’s like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die.

Well, they won’t.

But my realization is that the anger I am trying to tame was never really meant for that other person.

It was meant for me.

I was angry at myself for being an active bystander in my own mistreatment. I was there every single time a boundary was crossed. I was there when I voiced my pain, only to watch the line move further back. I gave ultimatums I never enforced. I said I wouldn’t stay without respect — and then I stayed anyway.

Why? That’s a story for another time.

Right now, my key realization is that it is much harder for me to forgive myself and channel that anger into grief than it is to let go of my resentment toward her.

Grief for myself, for allowing all of that to happen. Grief that the story didn’t end the way I had hoped, invested in, and believed it would.

This grief doesn’t shout. It sits quietly underneath the surface, waiting for the noise to clear. It only shows up when I stop running — when I put down the phone, close the laptop, and turn off the distractions.

In total stillness, on a quiet lake, the truth finally catches up.

And if in a partnership you can forgive a person, admit that you still love them, and let them go at the same time… how do you do that with yourself?

You cannot walk away from yourself.

You can only look yourself in the mirror, acknowledge the mistakes you tolerated, and choose differently next time. Forgiving yourself isn’t about erasing what happened — it’s about making sure that the version of you who stayed is no longer the version of you who leads the way.

There is a certain beauty in that, but it is a terribly heavy and demanding process.

Yet in the end — and I have to believe this — it brings that progress, that freedom.

And… I am doing it!