Toxic Exes, Internet STD's, and Building Your "Revenge" Business
How to make ourselves less triggerable
Internet indoctrination is like the online version of that ex. You know who I’m talking about.
The one you had to literally escape + methodically block on every mode of communication known to humankind.
The one you stopped going to all your favorite spots because of.
The one you stop posting because of – who knows what they’ll try to use against you in court!
The one you have to let everyone you meet know about (just in case!) – it’s like having to disclose an STD.
The one you shaved your head, popped pills, and downed whiskey every night for 6-months, over.
The one you would rather dive into a rack of men’s jackets than say hello too when you run into them at the mall.
👆 That happened.
Not my finest moment, but honestly, I’m ok with that very unadult response, in the middle of Nordstrom after locking eyes with THE most toxic dude I’ve ever been dumb enough to fall in love with.
I army-crawled from one rack to the next, across the store to the dressing room, where my best guy friend (who happens to be my baby daddy now) was trying on suits.
I run into the dressing room and whisper “open the door”... he thinks I’m handing him clothes, as usual, but I bust through and slam the dressing room door behind me.
Him: WTF are you doing?
Me: I just saw Fuck Face – that’s what our friend group affectionately called him… well, I called him a lot of things.
Him: And?
Me:
I made him wait in there with me for 30 mins., and then I sent him out to see if the coast was clear, with strict orders to text me with what he saw.
He maintained that I was being ridiculous for FIVE YEARS… until, he was downtown with one of his buddies, who saw his ex-wife eating outside in the direct path back to his car, and made him take a whole pottery class just to wait her out.
I guess a guy can better explain to another guy how normal it is to do ridiculous shit to avoid a toxic ex. 😂 He conceded… and I (per ushe) was vindicated.
The things I did to preserve my sanity after leaving that man had to have added up to a whole other full-time job.
Which was brutal since the asshat worked at my real full-time job.
Oh, don’t, please; I know the many errors of my ways. I’ve chosen the “learn the hard way” path pretty consistently. It’s sorta my signature.
It was years… and years… of trying to live + work, tip-toeing around a trigger that would turn on an IV of poison.
Don’t eat lunch at that time… he might be hovering around the break room.
Don’t go to that bar anymore… he knows you love it.
Don’t follow that band anymore… he’s always trolling their posts.
Don’t post on your business page anymore… he loves to gossip with people at work about it.
Don’t volunteer at that rescue anymore… he’s ingratiated himself with those women – who knows what he’s told them?
He fucking owned me, and I just fed the meter + let him squat there in my thoughts, sucking all the “ME” right out.
Until there was nothing left to give but a social worker + a psych hold, but that’s a story for another day.
It was so intense, overpowering, painful, and prolific… until it wasn’t.
Until I was forced to STOP and see that this was a choice I was making.
I was choosing not to forgive myself.
I was choosing to stay angry + broken.
I was choosing to be controlled by his actions.
I was choosing to worry about running into him.
I was choosing not to do what I want, when I want.
I was choosing to spend my energy on HIM instead of ME.
I was drinking the poison hoping it would kill him, but of course it was killing me - it’s fucking poison.
There was no magic potion, and it sure as hell wasn’t time that made army crawling across a department store fade into not giving a single fuck; it was choosing ME.
It was redirecting all the time + energy I was spending on him, into finding + healing myself.
Understanding why I ignored the red flags, how I let it go on as long as I did, and how I’m going to thrive on the other side of it.
It took time, but it went from the thing that consumed my thoughts to a chapter in my life that I could safely page through without any trauma whatsoever.
The goal was to be able to see him and have absolutely nothing happen to my nervous system… and I got that glorious day years after our Nordstrom encounter.
TRUTH: All the indoctrination that’s been shoved down our throats has us army crawling across the internet looking for the next dressing room to hide in.
We’re worrying about how to present ourselves… how to avoid haters… how to go viral… how not to look like an idiot… how to be taken seriously… how to be engaging… how to be convincing… how to be irresistible… how to be entertaining… how to be sellable… how to not be GUTTED by strangers assassinating our character… and the list goes on.
Don’t do this.
Don’t do that.
Don’t… don’t… don’t.
The things we’re doing to preserve our sanity are the same things that are keeping us army crawling.
We have to CHOOSE to forgive ourselves for letting this happen so we can focus on how we’re going to thrive on the other side.
We have to CHOOSE not to worry about what these asshats are doing so we can focus on what we want to do.
We have to CHOOSE to do what we want, when we want, so we can make this shit simple + feel good.
We have to CHOOSE to redirect all that time + energy we’re spending worrying about what strangers think about us into figuring out who we are + what we want so we can relearn how to just BE.
The internet isn’t going to get any less triggering! To make this work, we have to make ourselves less triggerable.
We have to rebuild ourselves.
We have to rewrite the stories we tell ourselves.
We have to show up in human ways that are so real they hurt sometimes.
We have to put ourselves in every micro decision we make.
We have to be so fucking whole that it doesn’t matter what kind of dumpster fire is blazing around us – it does absolutely nothing to our nervous systems.
If YOU started choosing YOU, right damn now, what would be possible a year from now? Two years from now? Ten years from now?
Probably a boatload more than if you keep hiding in dressing rooms.
This month’s Hot Dog Cart experiment is the perfect way to ease outta of hiding and into all the ooey-gooey shades of YOU.
THE EXPERIMENT:
What would happen if we spent the month double-dog daring each other to be so honest it kinda hurts?
Here’s how this experiment works:
Monday-Thursday, throughout October, I’m dropping a new Hot Dog Cart chat thread with a double-dog dare we can all do on Substack Notes, and then having everyone drop a link to their Note, so the rest of us can go shower it with love + choose (over + over again) to be true to ourselves.
EXAMPLE: I double-dog dare you to tell me something so honest it kinda hurts, or I double-dog dare you to tell me one dirty little secret you’ve been keeping from the internet.
No promotions. No backend offer. No time-consuming commitment.
Just a bunch of hot dog cart-lovin’ fools healing their nervous systems, growing their Substacks, and rebuilding their confidence after years of toxic internet indoctrination.
The investment = $15/month or $130/year.
Choose which plan makes the most sense for YOU!
To climbing out of the clothes rack in my hot dog-shaped pasties,
Dre ‘Nervous System Goals’ Beltrami
This is intriguing. I've saved it for later but 8 just wanted to thank you in advance for writing it. Subject matter alone is worthy of praise in my opinion.
We tend to give too much energy towards things/people around us rather than ourselves.