You Hate That Fuckboy Because You’re Disappointed In Yourself


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Asshole. Douchebag. Cheater. Fuckboy. Whatever you call him, that decrepit piece of human garbage broke your heart, and whether it was yesterday, a month ago, or fall of freshman year, you’re still not over it.

I often wonder exactly how detrimental it is for us to spend our days consumed with thoughts of the boys who fucked us over. It can’t be good for us to be constantly plagued by memories of a time when we were happy, and then really happy, and then really, really kicked to the curb. At this point, they might as well just call it a day and give a medical name to this shitty feeling so we can better diagnose our sisters in the future.

The worst part of your split with a fuckboy is the time directly after, when you’re stuck wondering why the hell you weren’t good enough. Truth be told, you are good enough. There’s a solid chance you’re better than good enough. But some guys just don’t give a shit about how they treat people who care about them, and as depressing as it is, you’ll probably never know why he bailed. It’s impossible to get in his head and figure everything out, and you’re beginning to realize that he hasn’t told you the truth in a long, long time.

So why do we care? Why do we bitch about them to our friends for weeks until someone snaps and tells us to shut up about it? Why do we spend hours wallowing in self-hate and wondering why they don’t want us? Why do we give a shit when we are so clearly better than them?

That’s it. That’s why. You know you’re better than him, and I mean fundamentally better, so the fact that his skanky ass didn’t want you has you seriously fucked up in your head. And the fact that you care so much makes you mad at yourself, which makes you even more mad at him. It doesn’t make any sense, which in turn doesn’t make any sense, because up until this point, everyone has told you that it’s girls who are complicated. Let me tell you something, my friend. Those assholes lied.

It’s time to face the fact that you’re the better person in whatever mess you fell into. If he fucked you over and felt little to no remorse, dude’s a prick. I promise. It’s okay to know that, and you shouldn’t feel like a bitch for telling yourself that you’re better than him. You’re not stuck up, or conceited, or arrogant. You’re smart, and smart girls can say whatever the fuck they want, whenever.

Even though you can confidently tell yourself that you were the better half, this doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to want you. Men, or people, rather, are complicated. Some have weird reasons for making questionable decisions. Some have no reasons for making questionable decisions. Shit happens to good people all the time. You just need to understand that when someone treats you like crap, it’s a reflection of them, not you.

Some days are going to be bad. Others are going to be worse. Heartbreak isn’t a problem with a quick fix, and as much as I wish it were possible for us to easily forget the way we felt about the boys who hurt us, that’s not usually the case. Just remember that there are good guys out there, guys who will love you, and cherish you, and be deserving of the boss ass bitch you are. Those are the ones you should be looking for when you move on from your fuckboy and decide you’re ready to be with someone who is worthy of your time.

Lucky Jo is much less medicated than her mother and sister, and she tends to think that’s a good thing. She's the newest full-time addition to the Grandex office, which is probably why they gave her the shittiest desk. In her free time she enjoys scaring small children, judging her peers, and condescendingly talking to GDIs at Starbucks. Follow her on twitter for cat memes and complaints. Email her at

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