by Elizabeth Yeter

“I’m sorry, it’s just going to be too tight for me. Let’s plan for next week :)” I sighed as I put down my phone after reading Joseph’s text. We’d made plans a week ago to hang out, but now he was putting me off at the last minute. Again. After we hadn’t seen each other for over a month.

The relationship began about eight months prior with shared interests in bettering ourselves and encouraging each other in our careers. It was an instant connection. We started hanging out once every couple of weeks, then about once a week. I loved spending time with someone who shared the same ideas as me and was so easy to talk to.

But then something happened. Quite frankly I don’t know what it was, so actually maybe nothing happened. But our relationship changed. He stopped answering texts right away. Sometimes I’d wait three or four days to hear back from him and sometimes he’d completely ignore me. At first I was worried about him. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. Are you ok?” I’d text. A few days later he’d reply, “Yep! Just busy.” Gosh, too busy to send back a three-second message? Now that’s busy.

After a few of these interchanges, I started to feel like something was wrong with me. Was I boring? Stinky breath? Did I inadvertently say something that offended him? Or was he just not that into me. Ouch, the thought of that stung.

So when he texted out of the blue and said we really needed to catch up and that he was excited to see me, I was happy but guarded. How would our interaction be? Would we just pick up where we left off? That seemed . . . awkward. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that things had always been one-sided, with me putting in more effort. That didn’t sit well.

So the ball was in my court. Well, actually, the ball had always been in my court, but I had bought the lie that I had no power in my relationships. That deception is difficult to reverse. The truth is that I do have rights. The relationship doesn’t exist for me to please Joseph and make sure he’s always satisfied with our interactions. I matter too.

With this last text message, an obvious disregard for me, I had a choice. I could turn the proverbial cheek and dismiss my feelings of being undervalued. Or I could say something that, although true, might end the relationship for good. It was a tough call. I really liked Joseph.

I deliberated. I assessed and then reassessed. I tried out possible messages. “Ok, no problem! See you next week!” “Whenever you have time, let me know!” Nothing felt right. They all felt like violations of me. Like I’d be demeaning myself if I sent those.

I thought hard about the message I really wanted to convey. What was my heart yearning to tell Joseph? Here’s what I finally decided on:

“No worries. And no thanks for next week. I’m choosing people who choose me.” Send.

Oh dang! Did that really come from me? I vacillated between mental high fives to myself and head slaps. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I did something even more drastic. I decided, I mean DECIDED, that I was worth more than how he had treated me. Therefore, I wasn’t going to waste another moment of my time, mental energy, or emotions second-guessing my decision. I didn’t even wait to read Joseph’s reply. I deleted his number and blocked him on all social media.

Harsh. I know. But I had to make a clean break.

Because I’m choosing people who choose me. And Joseph, quite frankly, had been choosing Joseph all along.