Guys, Maybe We’re To Blame For Our Crazy Exes

Guys, listen up. I just had a realization, and it’s a mindfuck. I mean, a SERIOUS mindfuck. Like an if-­you-­want-­to-­go-­about-­your-­day-­normally-­stop-­reading-­right-­now kind of mindfuck. Yea. I’ll give you a second to decide if you want to read any further…

Ok, those of you who are left must be as masochistic as I am. Nevertheless, let’s get down to the brass tacks here; I think every one of us has at least one “crazy ex girlfriend” and the stories to go along with ‘em. Some of us have multiple crazy exes, and a select few (like myself) have only dated girls we would later refer to as crazy. This is obviously nothing new, the craz y­ex stereotype exists for a reason, but something hit me…did I make them crazy?

I mean, what the fuck are the odds that out of the three girls I dated for long periods of time, they would all end up doing nutty shit that would make me later call them fucking crazy? Slim, right? I know. That’s why I’m starting to seriously wonder if I’m the problem, if we as a gender are the problem, and we make these otherwise normal girls go bananas.

I’m well aware that there are some certifiably insane women out there. The bat-shit-­crazy types, the Lorena-­Bobbit-­ain’t­-got­-shit-­on-­me kinds of females. But, let’s face it…they’re few and far between. MOST women are relatively sane, until we make them otherwise.

I’m almost entirely convinced of this right now, and I’m not happy about it. I preferred to believe that I was the rational, sane, logical party in the relationship and I just happened to date the ones who should have came with a warning label tattooed on their foreheads.

I no longer believe this to be the case, at least not fully. I always knew I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, and I wasn’t going to win boyfriend of the year or anything, but I didn’t think I was that bad. It wasn’t my fault they were jealous, insecure, angry, sad, violent, and borderline bi­polar. Or, was it?

Did they get jealous because my eyes wandered, because they thought I was constantly looking for a “hotter” girl? Did I ever do anything to reassure them that I wasn’t? Did I take my flirtatious nature too far on more than one occasion without even realizing it? Yes. Yes to all of those and more. Motherfucker, that’s strike one against me.

Was it my fault they were insecure? Did I ever make them feel as beautiful as I should have? Did I ever make them feel like they weren’t enough for me, and therefore make them feel small inside?

Did I cause the trust issues that made them even more insecure than they were before they met me? Did I unintentionally break them, and make them “crazier” for the next guy? Shit. This introspection is not going well for me, at all. I’m beginning to feel the regret, and I would bet that some of you reading this are too.

Did I make them angry? Well, of course. This one takes very little reflection. They pushed my buttons, so I pushed theirs. This one I don’t feel bad about.

Did I make them sad? Well, it’s safe to say in every one of those relationships we hurt each other. We made each other sad. Although, if I didn’t make them so jealous and insecure maybe they wouldn’t have been so sad. Maybe we would have fought less. Maybe one of them would have worked, and I wouldn’t be alone right now.

Am I the sole reason they got violent? Did I push things too far, to the point where they couldn’t communicate with words any longer, and could only convey their own hurt by causing me physical pain? Did I break them down emotionally so much that they truly wanted to see me hurt, to see me bleed? Did I make them feel so inferior that the only way they felt they could level the playing field was to throw fists, knowing I would never strike back?

The answer is a resounding yes.

I do believe I caused all of this, and I’m starting to loathe myself for doing this shit and for clearing up the much-­needed blind spot in my self perception. Am I the reason I now refer to these girls as “borderline bi­polar”? Did I cause such a whirlwind of emotion that their moods could change at the drop of a dime? Did I make them feel like the relationship lacked stability, and therefore make their mood’s lack stability? Did I provoke such a powerful reaction deep inside of them, something that made them both happy and sad simultaneously? Happy for the moment, sad for the inevitable decline? I think so.

I honestly think with someone else, someone a little more mature and a little more kind, they wouldn’t be like that.

I’ve heard the muffled whispers, the hushed voices of the women that proclaim “men make us crazy”. I also contributed that to their obvious insanity, without stopping to analyze where they derive this conclusion from. I told you, this is a mindfuck.

And so, I ask this of men everywhere: what the hell have we done?!?! Seriously, if even half of the rest of you are as guilty as I am, all we’re doing is fucking over the next dude who dates them. Our gender as a whole was completely oblivious to this, at least I assume so.

I’m a fucking genius in my own mind and if I was in the dark about it, I’m sure everyone else is. It sucks, it’s shameful, and it fills me with regret. I didn’t even know the damage I’ve done to the fragile psyche of these girls. I bet most guys have no clue what they’re doing, even as they’re doing it. I sure as shit was convinced it was not my fault, that these were just nutty broads and that’s that. It never hit me that they weren’t that fucking nutty until I brought the crazy out of ‘em.

So, to every girl that I turned into a psycho, I sincerely apologize. To every girl who was turned into a psycho by a guy who was just as clueless as I was, I apologize on behalf of my gender. To every guy reading this, who’s starting to think “Oh fuck, maybe I did make her lose her shit”…you did. I did. We did.

Just accept it and move on, and try not to dwell on this for the rest of your shitty day. I know, easier said than done. I warned you in the first paragraph.

However, if you can’t help it, and you’re now stuck thinking about all that crap you pulled that made your ex go bat-­shit, at least find solace in this: The crazier they are, the better they are in bed.

At least you created a sexual monster.