My ex-boyfriend used to hide me from his friends, because in his words, I wasnt on his level. I knew this from the start, but still, I stayed. He came from a wealthy family in a small English town; his father was a prominent businessman, his mother stayed at home, they lived in a spacious house and drove a brand new car. I lived in a modest neighbourhood, worked as a cashier in a supermarket, and helped my mum with the bills at home.
We first met at a cosy café, where I picked up my coffee before my shift began. He started calling me, texting me, inviting me out. In the beginning, everything seemed lovely, though something always felt off. He never took me to places where he met his mates. Hed always choose more distant, discreet spots where no one knew us. If we happened to be in the centre and I bumped into someone I knew, hed immediately let go of my hand and say, Lets go this way. When I asked why, he replied, My friends are very critical, I dont want gossip. I swallowed that answer.
I truly understood the situation at a party he invited me to. I dressed up in a simple but nice dress Id bought, hoping to fit in. As soon as we walked in, he whispered, Stay here at the bar, Ill go and say hello to a few friends. Twenty minutes passed. Then forty. I saw him from afar, laughing, taking pictures, hugging people. Not once did he introduce me to anyone. When I got closer, he put his hand out in front of me and said, Wait outside for a bit. Outside, he explained, There are important people here, I don’t want any awkwardness.
Over time, his comments started to sting more. He told me I spoke too common, that I should rethink my wardrobe, that he wouldnt post pictures with me on social media because his family was private. I never visited his home. I never met his parents. When I invited him to my mums birthday, he made excuseswork, the car, being tired. But whenever there were events in his circle, he disappeared for the entire weekend.
One day, I asked him directly, Are you ashamed to be with me? He paused for a moment and said, Its not shame… we just come from different worlds. Youre a good person, but my friends are a different class. I dont want to be judged. That sentence broke something within me. I asked, And can you judge me? He just shrugged.
The worst part was when I saw photos in his profile with a colleaguethe daughter of a prominent solicitor in town. Fancy restaurants, expensive events, smiles, tagged locations. With her, he posed proudly. There wasnt a word about me. When I confronted him, he said she was just a friend. We had a big row. I told him I wouldnt be anyones secret. He retorted, If you dont like how things are, then its over.
And so it was. We broke up then and there. I walked alone for a few streets and cried. A week later, he was officially with that woman. I kept going to work and saw pictures of him in designer clothes, trips, dinners. He never apologised. He never admitted hed hurt me.
Today, I know I spent a year as the girl who wasnt supposed to be seen. The one who existed only behind closed doors. The one who wasnt enough to be in the group photo. And that pain doesnt fade easily.
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