There’s something we rarely talk about enough — how our past relationships quietly shape the woman we are today.
Let me tell you a story from my own life. I was in my early twenties — 23, maybe 24 — and I was madly in love. It was my first time living with a boyfriend, creating a home together. I poured myself into it completely. The apartment was spotless, cozy, filled with candles and warmth. I cooked dinners, made everything beautiful, and took pride in being the “perfect” partner, my legs always smooth and hairless.
We were living together for something like six months. Christmas was approaching. We went shopping together for our Christmas decoration - lights, ornaments, a tree. I loved it. I was so happy...
Two days before Christmas, HE LEFT ME. We came home from work. We had sex. We had dinner. And after dinner, he told me: "Tomorrow I need to pack. I'm going back to my ex-girlfriend."
I was devastaded. I was lying in bed for days, unable to move, unable to make sense of it. I had given everything, done everything right, and still — he left. He chose his ex over me!
That heartbreak broke me open in a way that changed me forever. And from it, I learned a few things that shaped all my relationships after — some in empowering ways, others not so much.

1. I learned that I am reselient.

I remember thinking "if I can survive this pain, I could survive anything" It gave me strength, and self-trust.

2. I learned that perfection doesn’t keep a man.

The clean home, the dinners, the effort to always look beautiful and put together—none of it guaranteed love or loyalty. It felt like a punch to the face, but at the same time, that realization set me free. I stopped trying to be perfect and started focusing on what truly matters: the connection with myself and the authentic expression of my thoughts, emotions, and truth.
If a man meets me there—and can hold me in that space—he’s the right one for me. If not, I’m not pretending. I’m not twisting myself to fit. Perfection doesn’t exist. What’s raw, vulnerable, and open is what builds true connection.
But I learned that the hard way.

3. I learned to fear ex-girlfriends.

This one wasn’t empowering. It planted insecurity and jealousy deep inside me. It caused challenges in my next relationships. Every time a man mentioned his ex, I would tense up. It wasn’t about him — it was about what my past had taught me.

4. I learned to fear being blindsided.

He and his ex had been planning his exit for weeks—while I thought everything was fine, while we were making plans to celebrate New Year’s Eve together. Leaving me surprised and unprepared two days before Christmas made me crave control. I needed to “know what was going on” at every moment.
So in every relationship after, I told my partner upfront: “If something ever feels wrong for you, tell me first. Don’t surprise me.”
It sounded like a boundary, but really, it was fear in disguise—a powerless clinging for control.

Why am I sharing all this with you?

Because we all carry lessons from our past relationships. Some make us stronger. Some make us guarded. The trick is to tell the difference.
Ask yourself:

• What did I learn from my relationship(s)? What beliefs have I adopted from there?
• Is it still serving me — or is it quietly holding me back?
  Because until you name it, you can’t change it. And when you do name it, you reclaim your power.
  For me, that moment came when I finally said to my partner: "Hey, I sometimes get triggered by ex-girlfriends because of what happened years ago. You're not giving me any reason to feel this way, but I still feel threatened, jealous, and insecure. I want to change that, and I want to work on myself. Please, stay patient with me."
  That honesty softened everything. It created connection instead of control.

So today, I want to leave you with this:

Go back to your past relationships — not to reopen wounds, but to collect your wisdom.
Ask yourself:

• What am I still carrying that doesn’t belong in my life anymore?
• What am I ready to let go of?
  Because every past relationship left you with something — and not everything deserves to stay.