Two Women, One Man, A Warning Too Soon, and a Reply Too Late

Dear Beauty

This is my heartfelt letter to you—the one you likely won’t read, at least not yet. Right now, you’re probably in that part of your relationship with him where you cling to every word, wanting so badly to believe his promises. You may even see me as the villain in his story, and that’s okay. I understand where you are, how easy it is to believe his stories of hurt and betrayal by someone like me. You haven’t yet seen the pattern—the one where he’s always the victim, with the world somehow always against him… everyone but you. I was once in your shoes. I know how it feels to believe that no one has ever loved him like you do now.

My heart aches for you because I know what lies ahead. Chances are, you’ve just started to get your light back, maybe after your own hard times, after working to overcome struggles that weren’t easy. He sees that light in you—the spark that’s coming alive again—and he’s drawn to it. That wonderful energy is something he wants to soak up. And when you fall for him, Beauty, it’s really the reflection of your own light that you’re loving. He’s mirroring you, taking on the qualities of your spirit, your resilience, your kindness. He came to you without much of himself, and he’ll continue to reflect you.

Beauty, it’s really the reflection of your own light that you’re loving

He’s probably been telling you how strong you are, how much he admires your story. Maybe he even says the things you’ve longed to hear—that he understands you deeply, that he sees you. It feels incredible to be known like that, especially when you’ve longed for someone who truly gets you. And he even confides in you, sharing personal details about his life, his wounds, the people who have hurt him. He wants you to feel safe, to trust him, to open your heart to him. But Beauty, as hard as it is to hear, he’ll use this trust against you one day. You might not believe me now, but one day, you may wish you’d listened sooner. What might normally be red flags are just faint, blurred yellow lights now because he’s woven such a beautiful story.

But let me pause and remind you:

YOU ARE WORTHY and AMAZING.
You have a beautiful light.
YOUR ENERGY is pure and full of love.

Beauty, take things slowly. Don’t feel the need to share all your stories and secrets right away. These are the most precious parts of you—guard them carefully. When you share these pearls, he’ll take them in, but not for safekeeping. Gradually, subtly, he’ll use them, not right away, but over time in ways you won’t see coming. And by then, it may already be hard to let go. You won’t be able to see his patterns clearly because you’ll be deeply attached, caught in a trauma bond to the way he makes you feel. You are in love with an illusion of him, but truly, you’re in love with your own light—he’s merely reflecting it back to you. Yet, this bond is powerful and tough to break; it’s often harder to walk away from this kind of relationship than to quit a drug addiction. You may already feel the grip it has on you.

You’re in love with your own light—he’s merely reflecting it back to you.

This grip on you is bliss right now.  It feels wonderful to feel seen and understood, and he knows that’s what you’ve been praying for. Every woman does. We all long for that feeling. But he has a way of making you feel uniquely special. You’ll believe him when he brings his kids into it, saying things like, “I’d never bring just anyone around them; they’ve seen me hurt, and I don’t want them to go through that again.” He’s already using God as a tool, saying things like, “God put you in my path.” It feels so beautiful to be part of what looks like a family, but it doesn’t mean what you think it does. He’s using his kids, too, and they don’t see it any more than you do.

Perhaps he’s talked about sharing his favorite restaurant, bar, or even places he wants to show you. Does he talk about trips, saying things like, “We’ll go there someday?” This is called future faking, and I’m so sorry you’re going to go through it. It’s painfully hard to realize it was all just talk. When he finally introduces you to his friends and family, you’ll be deeply attached, not to him but to the image he’s mirrored back to you.

Beauty, hold on to your light. It’s yours, and it’s precious beyond words. Take your time, guard your stories, and know that you’re enough just as you are. You deserve someone who treasures you, truly, not someone who sees your light only to reflect it back for his own gain.

And Beauty, I want to take this moment to acknowledge that you are wonderful and that all the beautiful things he tells you about yourself are absolutely true—not because he says them, but because that’s simply who you are. He was drawn to you because of your beauty, your light, your energy, your kindness, and your smile. He loves your conscientiousness, your agreeableness, and your adaptability. You’ve likely done some deep work on yourself, and when he speaks so deeply with you, it pulls you in. But you are wonderful because of who you’ve become—through all the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve poured into your growth. He sees this as something to exploit.

Being agreeable, as lovely as it sounds, is something he may use to manipulate you. Your adaptability, which is truly a strength, will be praised by him while he talks of his “difficult past relationships” and how poorly he was treated. But ask yourself, why does he bring up these stories? Do the deep dive. Because if you don’t, when you reach a moment when you’re hurt or need something from him, you might not ask or speak up. You’ll fear being “just like his ex.”

Beauty, I hope this letter finds you when you need it most. You deserve to be loved for who you are, deeply and honestly. May you hold on to your beautiful light and protect it fiercely. You deserve nothing less.

Chances are, when you read this, you will have a broken heart. Something has happened, and he has begun to ignore you, to discard you. If you get this letter in that time, please, Beauty, do not abandon yourself. Do not let him convince you that you are too needy, too moody, or that his poor behavior is somehow your fault. My heart hurts for you because I know where this will end ultimately. When he begins this process with you, let him go. He already has a new “supply.” For you, my friend, were the one he had in his pipeline when he began to neglect me. I don’t harbor any bad feelings toward you over this. It isn’t your fault. How could you have known? You only know what he’s told you—if anything about me at all. And if he told you anything, it was a smear campaign to make him look like the victim.

The best part of him is that YOU love him.

Men like this hook women like you and me by taking on a victim persona. This will be one of the most painful and costly lessons you will ever learn. He will crush you. He doesn’t know how to love. He doesn’t know empathy. He only knows what to say and how to mask his real self. It’s really not you, Beauty—it’s him. You did nothing wrong except love him. When you are ready to heal, and when you go no contact, so much will become clear to you. Until then, as you read this, it may feel unbelievable and impossible. Cognitive dissonance will convince you to stay well past his expiration date. That’s okay. I have been there, too. I hold so much compassion and grace for you in the space you’re in right now.

You are dearly loved by your Creator, who treasures you. I pray for you often. Be strong. He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. He is with you in all of it, even in the moments that feel blissful and wonderful.

Remember this: the best part of him is that you love him. And you deserve to be loved for that. Know that when you feel like you have nowhere to go, I am here. I will be here for you whether it’s next month, next year, or even two years from now. I am here for you.

With all my heart, I’m here if you need me.

Warmly,
Someone Who’s Been There

Dear Someone Who’s Been There,

I did not want to believe you.
He said you were crazy.
He said you were a woman scorned.
He told me how you hurt him and couldn’t forgive and let go of his “little bitty mistakes” that you overreacted to.
He told me you had your own traumas and issues from childhood that made you unstable.

He told me you were demanding.
That you couldn’t give him space when he needed it.
That you were so needy you suffocated the relationship.
That you brought constant drama and he just needed peace.

And I believed him.

He told me I was different — that I made him want to be a better man. I wanted so badly for that to be true. I chose to believe him, and I let you be the villain in his story.

I am so sorry.

You were right.

I am devastated. I moved for him. I relocated my job, my home. I let him move in with me and never pay a dime. He said he just needed that one big break, and then he would pay me back for all the dinners, the trips, the rent. He told me I was his person, and this is how we’re supposed to show up for each other.

But he never showed up for me.

When I finally started to hold him accountable — like the time I asked him where the $500 he borrowed from me went when he still hadn’t paid the electric bill — I felt him start to pull away. The warm words slowed, the late-night talks stopped, the hand-holding disappeared. His eyes looked through me instead of at me.

And because of the stories he told me about you, I didn’t want to be “too much” like you. I didn’t want to be “too needy” like you. I didn’t want to be “too dramatic” like you.

So I made myself small.

I swallowed my words. I laughed off the things that hurt me. I told myself, give him space, don’t pressure him, be the cool, easygoing girlfriend who doesn’t make waves. I thought if I stayed light and low-maintenance, if I gave him everything without asking for much in return, he would see my value.

But in making myself small enough to keep him, I made myself disappear.

I stopped sharing my dreams because I didn’t want him to think I was too ambitious.
I stopped asking for affection because I didn’t want him to feel smothered.
I stopped saying when something bothered me because I didn’t want to be labeled “dramatic.”

And then there was the night I saw him.

He was in the living room after I’d gone to bed, phone glowing in his hand, thumbs moving fast. I wanted so badly to ask who he was talking to. My stomach knotted — the kind of knot you get when you’ve been cheated on before, when you know that feeling. But I remembered what he had told me about you… how you had accused him of cheating and how betrayed and hurt he said he felt. How unfair and untrusting you were.

I didn’t want to be the woman he told me you were.
I didn’t want him to feel betrayed by me.
I didn’t want to upset him.

So I stayed quiet.

Until one day, it slipped out. I simply asked who he had been talking to that night after I went to bed — the night I had gotten up and watched him from the hallway, hidden in the dark.

And just like that, he turned on me. His face hardened. His voice got sharp. He told me I needed therapy for my “trust issues.” He made me feel pathetic. Damaged. Crazy.

I was crushed.

That night broke something in me. Not because I finally believed he was hiding something, but because I realized how far I had bent, how much of myself I had buried, just to avoid becoming you in his eyes. And somehow, even after all of that… I became her anyway.

I am sorry for believing the things he told me about you.
I am sorry I didn’t listen.
I wish I had found your letter sooner. But I suppose, had I found it sooner, I would not have wanted to believe you.

But now… I believe you.

I am Beauty, and you are not just “someone who cares.” You are Beauty too.

I need help. What do I do?

Will you help me?

Sincerely,

Beauty