Why I Befriended My Exes New Girlfriend
At first, I hated her, because he chose her over me. But that all changed with a conversation about sex.
She’s a sex coach. I’m not.
She’s outgoing. I’m not.
She’s a sex coach. I’m not.
She’s a sex coach.
Yep, a sex coach.
You know, a coach — for sex?
Oh, did I mention his new girlfriend is a sex coach and my ex-boyfriend may be a sex addict?
I know, eye roll! I hope you haven’t been here. I really do. If you have, then I know your pain, sister.
I try not to compare myself to other women, because I know it can be toxic. I’ve worked hard on loving myself for over two decades. But sometimes self-love is hard, especially when a man you thought was your soulmate drops you like a cold cup of diner coffee for a steaming hot cappuccino.
I broke up with him months before because, while the sex was good, the emotional intimacy was not (think cold dinner coffee with a sprinkle of motor oil). Ewwww. Gross, right?
He had the most beautiful crystal blue eyes. When his heart went cold, his eyes lured me back in — every time.
I left him because he was a sex-crazed asshole. He put himself on a threesome app “just out of curiosity,” read erotic stories in bed (to himself) every night, and constantly interrupted our lovemaking sessions with verbal fantasies of other guys shoving their cocks up my asshole while he watched.
He was not my Prince Charming. I knew that. But I was lonely. I had been celibate for three months when he called me out of the blue. “What are you doing? Want to hang?” My “Sure, come on over” turned into one fucking turned lovemaking sessions and two days of sexting. He was into S&M. He liked being dominant. I loved playing the submissive. He sexted me at work and asked me to put a small clothespin he’d given me on my nipple. I did. In between clients I opened and closed it as he demanded I do. It hurt — so good.
Then suddenly, in the middle of a new role play game, he stopped texting.
“What happened?” I texted him after two hours of radio silence.
“Sorry, I met someone on an app. She seems cool. I think we should be friends.”
Ouch. Friends? We had never been friends. In my book, we had never been true boyfriend/girlfriend. Our relationship was in that undefined, “fuckbuddy” realm.
“Friends?” I texted back, slowly releasing the clothespin from my very hard, red nipple. Ouch, I said to myself as I texted, “You’re such an asshole. Why would you string me along like this? You used me!”
He tried texting me randomly here and there over the next several months. I ignored them until I couldn’t anymore. I eventually blocked him.
A year later and he’s still dating his cappuccino. She says he’s the love of her life. I say, hey one person’s cold coffee can become another person's fancy new latte. Right?
The day I called her — my friend.
Well, acquaintance and colleague are perhaps better words to describe our “friendship” at this juncture. I’ve been having my own issues with my libido (is not wanting to touch myself for over a month normal?) and my 9-year-old girl is already developing pubic hair and body odor (you could say I’m having a little bit of a mental freak-out over here!). One day, after Googling sex consultants locally, and seeing her website pop up multiple times, I reached out to her via email.
My exes new girlfriend was more than cordial to me. While she played cool, ignoring the fact that the love of her life was the man I once called a soul mate. (“We met at an event you hosted years back, right?” Yes, we did exes new girlfriend. And you were really rude to me that night, remember? And remember you were the one that broke the heart of my first boyfriend after my divorce?).
I really don’t know my exes new girlfriend. At all. But she left a trail of stank in my path that left a not so attractive impression in my mind. I never like to make a snap judgment about someone — but sometimes it’s hard not to — especially when the first man you fall in love with after a difficult divorce is still grumbling about how she screwed him over by cheating on him with her ex-husband.
It’s taken me many months of forgiveness work — and a candid conversation with that disgruntled ex (he’s forgiven her and told me I should too) to help me put my judgments aside and give her a second chance.
My second chance has been sprinkled with herbal remedies for my daughter’s pre-pubescent self — and somatic sexual workshop invitations for me. I opened myself to both. Because why not? Life is too short to shut doors and close windows on assistance that might just be what the soul called for.
Help often comes in unexpected forms and manifestations. We must stay open-hearted and clear-minded about what comes our way. Sometimes life gives us just what we think we don’t need to show us how very little we know. It’s those humbling moments that remind us there is much more to this life than our judgemental minds can conceive.
