I was cheated on.

After almost four years of what appeared like love, I found out my ex-boyfriend was seeing someone else. On the night of prom, I saw several messages popping up on his phone screen from a girl I didn’t know. Knowing this might have ended badly, I scanned through their texts inside his phone. He had sent her kissy faces and heart emojis. She reciprocated with admiration. The exchange had happened for months. I never usually did this. I thought we could trust each other, but it turned out that he was planning to see her again soon. I cried to him later on and told him I knew about her. My makeup was a mess, dripping down my face in defeat. I could not believe it. He sobbed and said, ‘we all make mistakes.’ Nevertheless, we still attended the event together. He persuaded me to stay.

The photos were beautiful. I struggled to come to terms with our dwindling relationship. I wanted to convince everyone I knew that we were happy, so I posted a collage of pictures on every social media platform I could think of. I remember the caption vividly: “i can’t believe i hitched a date with aquaman <3” I viewed him as this movie star, someone who stole my heart from the very beginning. We stood together in formal attire, hand-in-hand. I grazed over each photo on repeat, refreshing my Instagram and Facebook pages every five seconds. There were hundreds of likes and dozens of comments telling me how much of a great couple we were. But it was all a facade—a memory stained with regret in my mind. We were together for so long, I was not ready to let go. They made me feel better.

And that’s the core of this problem. My acquaintances, friends, family, people that I didn’t even know thought our relationship was their #goal. I created a safe space on Instagram, a whole online world that would never know what occurred between us that evening. All that mattered was what every portrait of us depicted: a content couple who had been waiting for the moment to go to prom ever since they first met. We hugged and smiled, and our eyes twinkled in front of the camera. We put on a production for everybody to see. I imagined invisible hands clapping, cheering us on, rooting for us to survive. Except they didn’t know the truth. I craved acceptance from a place I was not receiving any. Behind the scenes, my heart was broken.

I felt like I needed to perform for others. If my ex-boyfriend and I seemed happy online, maybe it would cover up my dejected feelings in real life—a conception often tied to social media. In reality, we were still together for the consumption of others, which promoted a more significant following and outer acceptance for false happiness. There was no way that after four years, people would handle our breakup well. It was easy to post professional pictures on every platform, allowing omniscient online users to judge whether or not my relationship was perfect. Nobody is perfect, but I portrayed it as something that people could validate for me, although deep down, I was grieving. People fell in love with us being together.

So I remained with him for six months more, reassured that I could show people my strength. Countless weeks passed by, filled with arguments, mistrust, and dishonesty before I recognized my self-worth. I posted more pictures on Instagram and Facebook of us going out to dinner and seeing family without a care in the world because I knew people would love it. I was stuck in a constant loop that appeared to have no end. How many followers will view my story of us at the beach? Will they think anything is wrong? How come this post of us didn’t get as many likes as this one? I wondered if they ever knew, and it tortured my being. I could not stand the idea of letting go and what it might have meant through the lens of social media. My obsession with becoming everybody’s #RelationshipGoals overpowered and altered my sense of self. The authentic self—not the online persona. That’s when I knew I had to leave.

Eventually, I came back to social media without a relationship. It took me a while to delete all the precious memories that I once wanted to preserve. When I finally did, my acquaintances, friends, family, and people I didn’t even know were confused. All this time spent generating my online love life was put toward my growth as an individual. I evolved from that point forward. After I broke up with my ex-boyfriend, he asked if we could still be friends. It pained me inside that he still wanted to use me. But I deserved so much more. I declined his request and unfollowed his Instagram and Facebook profiles. I cultivated a new online space for myself—one that was not so focused on others but rather on what I could provide me. #SelfLoveGoals

#Relationship Goals