On Letting Go

Breaking Up With My Old Self
(a.k.a. The One Who Dated a Narcissist)

There’s a kind of grief no one prepares you for: the grief of realizing you lost yourself in someone else. Not just anyone—someone who chipped away at you piece by piece until you barely recognized your own reflection.

When it ended, it wasn’t just the relationship that died. It was the version of me who bent, twisted, rationalized, and tried to love someone incapable of love. Letting go of him was hard. But letting go of her—the woman I became in that relationship—has been even harder.

Because she stayed. She tolerated. She excused. She put on the mask of “fine” when everything inside her screamed otherwise. And the truth is, I don’t want her back.

Step One: Admit You Dated a Professional Gaslighter

Narcissists have one Olympic-level skill: making you doubt every single thing you know about yourself. Did you actually say that? Did you actually feel that? Did you actually want a partner who cared about you? Don’t be ridiculous.

I used to twist myself into a pretzel to avoid conflict, accommodate mood swings, and generally play emotional concierge. Now, I can’t even look at a soft pretzel without thinking: “Wow, that was me. Doughy. Twisted. Salted with tears.”

Step Two: Fire the Old You

The version of me that stuck around, hoping for crumbs of affection, is unemployed. She’s not even eligible for rehire. She’s the one who said things like, “Maybe he’s just tired” or “It’s probably my fault.”

Nope. She’s done. New management has taken over, and the only thing on the agenda is: never again.

Step Three: Laugh at It (Because Therapy Is Expensive)

You know you’re healing when you can joke about it. The old me thought “love bombing” was romantic. The new me knows it’s basically emotional spam mail—loud, pushy, and destined for the junk folder.

Old me thought, “Wow, he’s so confident.” New me recognizes that was just arrogance with better PR.

Step Four: Meet the New You

The new me is blunt, allergic to bullshit, and has a zero-tolerance policy for emotional vampires. She also has better hair (stress does terrible things, by the way).

I don’t just let go of who I used to be—I thank her for trying, and then I push her off the kayak. Because here’s the truth: she got me here. She survived long enough for me to become someone who would never again accept less than respect, love, and—let’s be real—a partner who can handle their own therapy bills.

Step Five: Move On Like You Mean It

Letting go isn’t a soft-focus movie montage with sad music. It’s messy, it’s loud, and sometimes it’s just deleting his number for the 14th time. But each day you do it, you get funnier, stronger, and sharper.

And the best part? You don’t just get rid of the narcissist. You get rid of the person who thought you deserved one.