You Misunderstood and Chose to Hurt Me

You Misunderstood Me

I keep thinking about what happened between us. It runs through my mind every day—not because I did something wrong, but because of how you treated me. I’ve been angry, hurt, and crushed by your actions. But now, I think I see where you were coming from.

And it all boils down to one thing: you misunderstood.

To make a long story short, I did something stupid. I made a snap decision fueled by anger, which isn’t like me. If you know me, you know I’m usually levelheaded. I think before I speak, weighing my words carefully. But, in this situation, I was pushed.

Someone kept telling me how I should be—how I should think, act, and respond. And it didn’t sit right with me. They kept bringing it up, over and over again, until I reached my breaking point.

So, after being poked and prodded long enough, the bear woke up. And I snapped.

TAnd the thing is, I did think about it before I acted. It wasn’t a thoughtless move. But it was fueled by anger, which—let’s be real—never leads to the best decisions.

You never gave me a chance.

Once everything came out, it got back to the person I was upset with. And they didn’t handle it well. Instead of addressing the situation like an adult, they retaliated with accusations, name-calling, and straight-up cruelty.

I didn’t even get a chance to explain.

Instead, words flew out of their mouth faster than I could process. Before I knew it, I was hit with some of the most hurtful, malicious things I’d ever heard.

I just stood there, stunned. How could they? How could someone I once respected and cared about say those things to me?

And it was all because they misunderstood. They only saw things from their perspective.

My dad was the kind of person who always asked questions. His favourite word growing up was “why?” It drove me nuts as a kid, but now, as an adult, I get it. It’s a mindset I’ve adopted myself.

Before I jump to conclusions, I ask. I’d rather be the person who asks too many questions than the one who looks like a fool for assuming.

But you didn’t do that. Instead of saying, “Hey, can we talk?” you came at me with accusations, cruel words, and a finger pointed in my face like I was a child who needed to be scolded.

I didn’t deserve that. Unfortunately, the damage is done.

Now that I’ve had time to process everything, I see it clearly. You didn’t lash out because I was wrong; you lashed out because you misunderstood. You assumed reacting before taking a second to ask.

And that’s on you.

I don’t hold onto anger, but I do hold onto lessons. And this? This was a lesson. A painful one, sure. But a necessary one.

Now, I know exactly the kind of people I don’t need in my life—the kind who assume instead of understanding, who attack instead of communicating, who see only their side and refuse to consider anyone else’s.

Now that I can see where you came from, I can’t say that I’m ready to rekindle what we had. Why would I want to put myself in a situation with someone who treats me like that? I wouldn’t do it to them.

I deserve better. And I won’t ever let myself forget that.