To all the boys who didn’t love me:

I understand that you may not love me, I’m fat, but that’s okay. I’m happy. You didn’t love me because I was a “bitch,” but today I stand and empower young women. You didn’t love me because I wouldn’t give you any part of my body, and when I refused, you told me it was ugly anyways. You didn’t love me because I tried to offer my brain, but you weren’t interested. Or maybe you did love me, until you found someone better.

I don’t hate or condemn you for not loving me, you didn’t have to, and I’m glad you didn’t want to. You placed me in these categories which define me only in your mind.

When I see the few of you around, which is rare, I smile and greet you, making small talk. One or two of you message me on Facebook or keep up with my instagram. I’m fine with speaking to you, and relating, sharing stories if we have the time. But something makes me sad; when you point out how happy I look, or how you’re happy about my engagement, and when you make remarks about how I could have been the “one.” That’s not fair to me..

You don’t get to decide that I could have been the one after you decided you didn’t love me to begin with. Are you truly sad that you let me go, or are you sad that you see how beautiful I am when I’m happy with the love of my life?

I fell in love with someone who tells me I’m worth loving every single day.

-Jane