How I Got Revenge On My Ex

For those of you who have followed me on my romantic journey, you will be familiar with what happened back in 2023 and which was the most traumatic breakup I've ever experienced. If you are just joining me on my journey, I will give you a minute to catch up.

A lot of time has passed since then, and I have experienced transformations both physically and mentally. I've grown a lot in two years, and I can say I've matured in a way that my old self would be proud of. However, it seems that some people are still stuck in their old ways.

Today, my friend Carrie (still Bryant's partner) invited me to Toronto's Bi+ Arts Festival to see her work. I'm thankful that she and I remained friends even after my breakup. Her creativity and ability to organise events for the queer community are unmatched. I was more than happy to come and support her. When she warned me that Bryant was going to be there, I surprised myself because of how I felt and reacted. I was indifferent. I simply didn't care about his presence.

For a long time, this man had a hold on me. I would have dreams about when I would run into him serendipitously and give him a fucking earful about how he hurt me. I wrote a whole notes app of a speech that I would one day say to him to tear him down, to bring a mirror to his face on his immature and callous treatment of our relationship. I would fantasise about different, violent, satisfying ways I could physically hurt him. I wanted him to suffer the way he made me suffer. But today? All that rage, all that hunger for justice simply evaporated. I had no desire to give him any of my energy, and I planned on keeping it that way for the entire evening.

I get to the event, where I am met with a loving embrace from Carrie. Off to the side, not even two feet away, was Bryant. There he was, looking at me, as if wanting to say hi to me but also hesitating to even breathe in my direction. I didn't waste any optic nerve energy to force my eyes to look in his direction. In my periphery, I saw him visibly age like leftover mayo. The years of heavy smoking and drinking have finally caught up to him in the form of defined wrinkles and thinning hair, not-so-cleverly disguised as a boho chic hairstyle. Behind his forced, courteous smile was the strain of having to face his guilt and shame, who is ninety pounds lighter, hotter, and more mature.

I did not exchange glances and continued to the event space.

In the exhibition hall, I was enjoying the art and leaning against the bar waiting for a drink. Outside, I can see Carrie making her way in while Bryant stays outside to finish a cigarette. As Carrie approaches the bar, she says to me, “Bryant asked me, ‘Is Tim ignoring me?’, so I said, ‘Obviously.’” Turns out, he’s not as smart as he seems.

We are led to the stage where we enjoy music, comedy and drag performances. There are six of us: me, Carrie, Bryant, and their polycule of Francois, Malcolm, and Paul. Most of the seats are occupied, leaving only the front row remaining. Our group starts to file in, with Bryant being the last one in. Everyone takes their seats, and the last seat just so happens to be the one directly behind me. He has no choice but to watch the back of my head for the entire show.

I can sense that he was so uncomfortable from the way I saw his jaw clenched and his hand tight in a fist. This did not bother me one bit as I enjoyed the show as if he were not even behind me.

During the intermission, the six of us gathered on the patio for a smoke, where I formally introduced myself to the polycule. I am greeted by hugs and smiles, and everyone seems to genuinely want to interact with me and get to know me. Carrie, Francois, Malcolm, Paul, and I continued to converse in a little circle while I flaunted my social butterfly skills. Meanwhile, in the corner of my eye, I see Bryant slowly start to detach himself from the circle, feeling like he is unwelcome. Nobody noticed, but I did. I am riding a high, a high I’ve never felt before. A quiet sense of righteousness and confidence with a desire to shout to the high heavens behind a socially acceptable civil decorum.

In my head, I am creating a Shakespearean monologue directed to only one audience member. How you’re feeling right now? That’s how you made me feel. And I’m not even doing anything. You pathetic worm.

The second act finishes, and the polycule has gone by then, leaving only Bryant, Carrie, and me at the venue. The three of us gather for one last smoke break, where Carrie and I exchange pleasantries and make plans for future hangouts. I leave her with a big hug and make my way to the subway. As I walk away, I can hear a very faint, masculine, raspy, weak, single word uttered from behind me.

“Bye…”

I did not return it, nor did I stop to think twice about acknowledging it. Of all the chances you had to say a word to me, you picked the very last minute? I walked away with my head held high, a sense of pride, and most importantly, closure.

In my first entry about this break-up, I ended with, “I’m in pain, but I’ll be okay. Promise.” Today, I am no longer in pain. I am okay. And that is a promise I kept to myself after these last two years. I know that closure sometimes isn’t guaranteed, especially when healing from a break-up. Sometimes it may not even look like running into your ex at an event. Most people only dream about showing off their revenge body to their exes. Some people even run into their exes at their lowest, when their makeup is running and they haven’t changed out of their Cheeto-dust-covered sweats that’s two days overdue for a wash. I worked on myself, the stars aligned, and I was lucky enough to see how much my work has paid off in the form of his anguish seeing me become a better version of myself.

Getting revenge on an ex isn’t dating someone new, or fucking their new flame. Getting revenge on an ex means you can pick yourself up from a broken heart and move on. It means undoing the ties that bind. Your identity is not rooted in being half of a relationship anymore. Getting revenge on an ex is reclaiming who you are as an individual, away from your past relationship. Getting revenge is getting over it, whatever that may look like. It is loving yourself wholeheartedly, through ups and down, through thick and thin, through bullshit and even more bullshit.

You are more than your heartbreak. You are more than what was once a joyful relationship. You are stronger than you think.

And if you do get a revenge body and are fortunate enough to show your ex what he missed out on? That’s just the cherry on top.