Dear Spencer,

I didn’t realize how stifling our relationship was until I ended things, and suddenly I felt a burst of freedom. When I broke up with you I took the blame in order to spare your feelings, but I’m still angry about how you treated me.

I’ve been trying to put you out of my mind but you aren’t letting me do so. I got a message from you today. You told me that you think I’m beautiful, you miss me and that we should go out to a bar together. I didn’t respond to your text—I’m writing this letter instead.

I know you have self esteem issues. I know you hate your curly hair. I know you wish you had a straighter nose, and a manlier jaw. I know you wish you were well endowed. When I was your girlfriend, I knew all of these things and I didn’t tease you about them. I told you I loved you the way you are, and was supportive.

But this was not enough for you. You needed to make me feel bad about myself to have power over me. I don’t think I have ever been as insulted as I was the day you told me “Your parents are wealthy, right? They could afford to get you breast implants if you asked for them.” I should have broken up with you then and there.

I know I have small boobs, and I am trying to be accepting of the body I was born with. I have never misled you about my body. I don’t wear push up bras or anything of the like. If you had that much issue with my body, you shouldn’t have asked me out in the first place. I’ve never insulted your dick size or asked you to get surgery and never would have dreamed of saying something so awful.

You also would continuously disrespect my family. You always made comments about how wealthy my parents are, and asked me if you could get benefits from them—if they would take you on family vacations with us, or if my dad could offer you a job. First off, we’re not even rich, we’re just a middle class family. Secondly, my parents have worked incredibly hard for what they do have, and you do not deserve anything from them.

You act like my parents had everything handed to them on a silver platter, when in reality they started off with close to nothing. My parents’ first apartment didn’t have a bed, only a mattress on the floor, and they had to save up for months to afford buying a dishwasher. Everything they have now is due to years of hard work. And I’m sorry if I had a more privileged childhood than you, but maybe you should also take into account that my parents only had to support two kids, while your parents are supporting four.

You tried to cheat on me. You lied to another girl, telling her you were single while you were still dating me. She asked you specifically about me, and you told her we were “just friends”. You thought you had a chance with her, so you broke up with me but kept leading me on in case you would decide to take me back. She didn’t want to be with you, so suddenly you were back at my door saying you were sorry and it was all a mistake. I was a fool for taking you back.

You make me feel bad about myself. I can’t be myself around you. You only like me when I’m silly or playful, or when I’m in the mood for sex. But if I want to have any type of serious, deep, or intellectual conversation you shut me down. You use this catch-all excuse of me being smarter than you, to stop those conversations from happening.

I don’t know if I’m smarter than you, but I definitely am more knowledgeable. You must be living in a bubble because I don’t understand how someone could not know about the housing bubble collapse, about the recession that happened in 2008, about the foreclosures, about Bernie Madoff, and Trayvon Martin, and the Sandy Hook shooting, and the two Malaysian air flights that crashed. You’re ignorant about anything big that happens in the world because you are too caught up in your own life and your own family and don’t care about anything else.

I can’t talk to you. I love talking, but talking to you is like talking to a wall. You’re always quiet. If you don’t know what I’m talking about you shut down, but you don’t try to instigate a new conversation either. You’re not passionate about anything. You don’t have interests. You’re not self-motivated. I have to push you to do work—Sometimes I felt like I was your mom, not your girlfriend. Five months after your graduation you accomplished absolutely nothing. The only thing you did was update your website, and I had to babysit you through that task.

You’re not strong. You let people push you around instead of making decisions for yourself, and then you whine about it. You wanted to do a solo project in your final year of school, but didn’t have the balls to tell your friends you didn’t want to work with them. Instead you ended up working on a project you didn’t like, and have been complaining about it for over a year. Get over yourself. Stop whining, grow a pair, and make the choices you want to make. I’m always hearing your complaints about how you did something you didn’t want to do, because person x, y or z pushed you into it. Just say no for once.

You never went out of your way to do something nice for me. After months of being together, we hadn’t had a first date because you hadn’t thought of the perfect idea yet. Clearly you will never think of the perfect idea, because we ended up going on a generic movie date after I got frustrated with your lack of decisions. I’m not so traditional as to believe the man should pay for everything, but the fact that you usually didn’t pay for me made me feel like you didn’t care about me.

After the ‘cheating’ incident you told me you would fly over to visit me, to make amends. And originally it did sound like a romantic notion. But it stopped being romantic once you started trying to guilt me to pay for your ticket after you had already agreed to come. I did pay for half of your ticket, but I felt awful about how I was paying so that you could come and make it up to me in person. I still feel like it was a waste of money.

I’ve only ever gotten one ‘present’ from you. It was an old sweater of yours and your childhood teddy bear. But it was a present on lease—you were leaving it with me for an indefinite amount of time, but the stuff still belonged to you. And then when I broke up with you, ironically this gift cost me money. I had to pay $10 shipping to send you your stupid stuff back.

When we were together you tried to manage my life. I am not lazy like you are. I am a self-motivated person. I am strong, and I know what I want out of life. But because you were unhappy about your own thesis you tried to live vicariously through my project—since I’m a year under you in school. I did not appreciate or need you directing my project when you didn’t even know how to direct your own project, or your own life.

Why should I take advice from a boy who can’t get a single productive thing done in five months? Why should I take advice on work from a guy who spends his time fishing and swimming at a pool, and going to bars with his siblings, instead of accomplishing anything?

I don’t respect you anymore. You stayed at my house, but were scared of meeting my parents and didn’t make an effort to talk to them even though they tried incredibly hard to be welcoming to you. You are lazy. You need people to direct you so that you get stuff done. You don’t stand up for yourself. You’re not passionate. You’re jealous of how I’ve been on vacations, which is ironic considering that when you go to a new place you just want to lie in a hammock all day instead of going out. You’re emotionally manipulative. You say things with the intention of hurting people.

Being with you has forced me to learn to stand up for myself more. I don’t like confrontations, but you pushed me to the point where it needed to happen. Being with you has also taught me what not to look for in a guy.

I think you believe that with enough time we could end up together again. That maybe my anger will fade and I will welcome you back with open arms. That will never happen. Sure, time fades and heals emotions. But the memories will linger and there were definitely more bad ones than good. Why would I want to go back to that?

I hope you will be better for the next girlfriend you find, but somehow I doubt that.

Please stop contacting me,

Sincerely,

Noelle