The Ex-Files
Does your ex deserve an ex-planation?
Recently, an ex liked one of my social media posts.
But not just any ex. That ex. Sean. The stalker I’ve had to block on all the things because he still refuses to accept that I do not wish to be connected to him in any way.
His Spidey sense must have alerted him to my sudden singletude.
How’d he sneak through my block net? Did the eclipse create a portal?
I was just about to block him again when I paused and asked myself:
Hmmm. Is this really necessary? This endless game of whack-a-mole is exhausting, and it’s been a decade since we last spoke. Maybe he’s changed…
Since my 13th wish this year was “I am unabashedly playful, curious, and enthusiastic,” I decided to get curious and play with the possibility.
First, I took a moment to clarify my core values, which need regular updating, particularly after major life transitions (ironically, a life-hack I learned from Sean back when I was going through a career crisis back in 2013).
CARE (love, connection, compassion, passion, enthusiasm, giving a fuck and showing it)
CREATIVE PLAY (imagination, creation, the arts, humor, fun, frolicking in limitless possibility)
FREEDOM (human rights for ALL, travel, adventure)
WISDOM (learning, growth, knowledge, understanding)
AUTHENTICITY (honesty, openness, transparency, intimacy, vulnerability)
I’ll be the first to admit, these are not easy values to embody. To care deeply and show up authentically in this world is a recipe for getting your heart broken and your ass handed to you pretty much continuously.
For example…
I’m Sorry, Doctah!
One Thursday evening, I was driving home from Oaklawn Enchantments, the Wyrd Sisters’ home base for bone readings, when I saw “LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS AUDITIONS” on the marquee of the local community theater. I felt the familiar tingle of something excitifying—exciting and terrifying at the same time—lighting me up from the inside.
Despite not having auditioned for a musical since 2014, when I last came out of theatrical retirement to play Florence in Chess, I knew I had to go for it.
I was born to play Audrey, and everyone I know knows it. Aside from being a survivor of domestic abuse with a colorful past (and a pretty decent floral arranger to boot), “Somewhere That’s Green” has been my go-to karaoke song since before karaoke was a thing.
Still, I knew it was risky. I’m 50 years old, and although I look relatively young for my age, Audrey’s age range is listed as 25-35. That’s a stretch. And despite my best efforts, I’m still an outsider to the (literally) insular world of the Whidbey Island arts community, so I knew there was a good chance things could go the same way they did when I auditioned for Into the Woods at Microsoft.
Yes, Microsoft had an active theatre troupe at one time. No, I did not work at Microsoft at that time.
The moment I walked in, I got the feeling I had crashed a high school audition. The whispers and glares left no mystery as to how they felt about my intrusion. But I’d practiced my heart out, so I wasn’t about to walk away without performing my piece.
When it was my turn, you could’ve heard a pin drop as I walked to the front and gave my intro speech.
“What did I clearly say? Children should listen…” I began. There was an audible gasp from somewhere in the room. This only fueled my fire. I nailed every note and then returned to my folding chair.
The woman next to me leaned over and whispered to me, “I kind of hate you right now.”
I took it as a compliment.
The following morning, the director called. Gotta love a prompt callback.
“Your audition was phenomenal, and you’re obviously a perfect fit for The Witch.”
“Thank you,” I beamed.
Perhaps they’re dispensing with callbacks altogether, and she’s calling to offer me the role outright…
“But I absolutely cannot cast you.”
Record scratch!
“The troupe organizer is the one who picked the show, and she picked it for the express purpose of playing The Witch. If I don’t cast her in that role, she’ll take her ball and go home, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I understand. But then, why even open the auditions to the public?”
“We’re required to.”
“Ah.”
That was useful information to have. Just because a theatre troupe is advertising open auditions doesn’t mean they have any intention of casting someone who isn’t already an insider, hasn’t taken one of their classes, etc.
So yes, I knew the risks going in. But in I went, regardless.
Hands shaking, mouth dry as a desert, I sang my little heart out, openly admitted this was my first audition in a decade and I was hella nervous, and answered multiple questions about my resume.
Authenticity. Vulnerability. Care. I was putting it all out there for a chance at some Creative Play.
They said I would hear back on Sunday night.
I checked my messages at 5 PM. Then at 9 PM. Then at midnight.
Then I cried myself to sleep.
On Tuesday morning, I received a generic rejection email so poorly written I couldn’t help but feel relieved.
Whew, dodged that bullet!
Rejection really is protection. But it still fucking hurts. Every time.
Cell Block Tango
Yep, those are my values, alright.
Once I was happy with my list, I moved on to step two. I grabbed my cell phone and, for the first time in 10 years, took a peek at Sean’s social media presence.
Here’s what I saw:
Opinionated how-to articles on how we’re all failing to use AI to its fullest potential.
Brooding selfies.
Hypocritical advice (e.g., “Don’t chase people”).
That’s it. Nothing remotely personal, polarizing, or political. Nothing creative, bold, brave, or in any way authentic & vulnerable. Nothing that betrayed any level of care for anything beyond satisfying his own needs and desires.
Same old Sean.
I have high standards for the people I allow into my life these days. If you lack integrity, if you aren’t speaking out against injustice, if you aren’t taking significant personal, professional, and artistic risks, then, as Simon Cowell says, “It’s a no from me.”
But just as I was about to re-block him, I had another thought.
Should I send him an explanation?
Transparency is one of my core values, after all. I know how much it annoys me when I get a rejection with no actionable feedback attached.
So I grabbed my notebook and started laying out all my reasons for blocking (and now re-blocking) him. The misaligned values, the total lack of accountability on his part for the harm he’d caused me, and on and on. But the more I wrote, the clearer it became that all I was doing was giving him a bullet list of objections to overrule, or try to solve to win me back.
One of his favorite phrases came to mind, “Don’t complain; don’t explain.”
I started over.
“Thank you for your interest in being a part of my life. At this time, your robust skillset of mansplaining, bullshitting, ass-fucking, two-timing, gaslighting, stalking, and general douchebaggery is not a good fit for my current needs.”
I laughed out loud. Then I crumpled it up and just went ahead and blocked him. Again.
I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but you don’t owe that jackass an explanation.
Your time and energy are precious commodities; stop wasting them on trying to explain yourself to those who are committed to misunderstanding you. Consider this your permission slip to protect your peace however you need to.
Meanwhile, keep on living your values loudly and proudly, and trust that you will eventually attract exactly what you’re seekin’ like a homing beacon.
Trust me, it’s worth the wait.
Thank you once again for a message that feels supremely intimate, just for me, right NOW. Over this past week I've had a couple unexpected "pop-ups" from the past. One from a (male) friend going all the way back to our teens, and for nearly 30 years I poured myself out to soothe his moans of "unrequited love"-- but now I have his number saved in my phone under "obtuse dickhead Danny." Never again. I always did my best and he did not. I told the whole truth when it was hard and he manipulated, lied and used my confessed vulnerabilities against me. He crossed lines again and again after I told him why it hurt, how much it hurts and that I'd never endure it again... And now I won't. Thanks for the wax seal making it official. The other is a "friendship" stretching all the way back to the fourth grade. Our meet cute was her walking to a sandy patch of grass far away from the other children and asking what I was doing (I was deeply engaged and watching the ants live their lives). We grew up and drifted apart, back and forth like canoes moored, but by college I'd mostly forgotten about her. Then 20ish years ago she sought me out, found my address and showed up at my door in recovery from anorexia and crack, and said I was a "good role model." This one is complicated. We were always misaligned, but right then it just felt so good to be looked up to. It was so empowering to spew advice like the self-possessed badass I loved pretending to be because that's as close as I could get to any actual worth. And I don't like her. We have nothing in common. She lacks the capacity for intentional growth or accountability. She lacks the ability to examine life on any level. I only talked to her this decade because she had a surplus of Adderall and I wanted it. Man. It feels good to say that out loud. She was never good for me, only good for my destructive patterns or my ego (same same though right?) and that's not her fault--- but I only want to go near her when I am afraid or triggered into feeling like I MUST live peripherally or else..... The risk is too high. Anywho, she called back to back a couple nights ago after years of silence and I let the phone ring. LITERALLY JUST BEFORE I READ YOUR ARTICLE, like JUST now--- I was planning on texting her back to explain myself to her. I told myself, watch this article on Alabama history first, and then if you still want to text her back, you can... By the time the video was over your message flagged me down and now my course is set. What was I thinking? A Divine message from a rando is a gift, but you don't expect that same person to bring you another. I really couldn't count the number of times you have spoken such specific clarity, direction, and/or said out loud my precise, personal, hidden and tangled inner landscape when I could not-- as though you have an outline. I hope thank you is enough. You are making a difference in my life.
First, I adored this and needed much of it. I am evaluating my values today to start new work, and it was brilliant to not feel alone.
I super needed “rejection is protection” too. I was volunteering while underemployed and offered to bid on a grant writing project with a non profit. That shamed and blocked me for daring to not be free. As if rent money isn’t earned by my skills and talent but paid through fairies?! I too dodged a bullet.
Divorce was my break with undervaluing myself but I’m still healing and struggling to see myself.
So thank you. I needed that.