Maybe it’s because I had a bad case of cabin fever with all these snow days or because I hadn’t discovered the Netflix genius that is House of Cards, but I found myself googling my ex’s girlfriend a few weekends ago and I am absolutely ashamed of it.
You see, silly me believed some time ago, my ex and I could actually be friends, at least on social media anyway. Through Facebook messages we talked about mutual friends, career, aging parents, siblings turned sexually active and the inevitable topic we probably should have avoided: The good old days. After all my ex and I hadn’t been involved for at least 7 or 8 years and I was well on my way to building a life with my now fiance’. I honestly believed that there was no room for resentment or jealousy for a relationship that had been dead for some time now.
We followed one another on Instagram. We joked about my Drake stan-dom and he’d tag me in those “Drake The Type of Ni**a” memes. Most of all life was great because we kept much of our private lives off the internet. But as our messages got longer and longer and he began to post more and more pictures of the people in his life, I began to learn a lot more than I probably needed to about his new girlfriend. He began to tell me about how she was recently out of work and much of the financial burden was on him. She was moonlighting as an event planner and had an awkward role-model relationship with his older sister. What I noticed most is that we started being less and less impartial about our partners and only revealing things about them we knew wouldn’t hurt each other’s feelings.
Since I sensed that I wasn’t getting the whole picture (she couldn’t have been as blah as he was making her out to be, because he was obviously happy with her before we began communicating again) I decided on a very bored pre Walking Dead premiere weekend to Google her after finding her tagged in one of his Facebook pics. Besides I had a few clues: a name and “event planner”.
So what did I find? Not much but some boring Pinterest boards and uneventful tweets from years ago and the worst part is I felt like a complete loser after “researching” her. Why did I even care? The truth is I didn’t. But my ego did, a hell of a whole lot. The first thing I had to figure out was did I have some kind of unresolved love for my ex or did I just not like to lose.
Now I know some of you are going to read this and think, “This girl is completely psycho. Who the hell has time for this shit?” But I’m willing to bet we all have done some form of this on a particularly insecure day; I’m just the only one brave enough to admit it and try to make you feel like a little less of a lame for doing so. After I removed my Beats Solos, turned down Letoya Luckett’s “She Ain’t” and came off my FBI investigative high I realized I had just wasted an hour of my time. Here a few reasons for you not to do the same: