She Said You Don’t Deserve Access To Me.I’m Disappearing For A Few Days.
She said, “You don’t deserve access to me. I’m disappearing for a few days.” I replied, “Disappear longer.” While she was gone, I packed every gift I ever bought her and shipped it to her parents house. When she messaged, “Did you miss me?” I sent her the tracking number. Right before another notification arrived that wasn’t from her.
I’m 34 and until last week, I thought I understood my relationship. My girlfriend and I had been together for 2 and 1/2 years. We met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, started dating a month later, moved in together after a year. Everything seemed normal, good, even. Or at least that’s what I told myself while ignoring all the small red flags that kept piling up.
The disappearing thing started about 6 months ago. She’d get upset about something, usually something minor, like me not responding to a text fast enough or forgetting to pick up something from the store. And she’d announce she needed space. Not just a few hours, days. She’d turn off her location sharing, stop responding to messages, and basically vanish.
Then she’d come back acting like nothing happened, expecting me to just be grateful she’d returned. The first time it happened, I was worried sick. called her friends, her family, drove around looking for her car. Turned out she’d been at a hotel downtown the whole time, processing her feelings. I was relieved she was safe, but also confused about why she couldn’t just tell me she needed space instead of making me think something terrible had happened.
The second time, I was less worried and more annoyed. The third time, I started seeing the pattern. This was her power move, her way of punishing me and reminding me that she could leave whenever she wanted, that I should be grateful for her presence. Last Tuesday night, we had an argument, nothing major.
I’d made plans with my friends for the weekend without checking with her first. She got upset, said I was prioritizing them over her, that I clearly didn’t value our relationship. I see them maybe once a month, I said, trying to stay calm. You see your friends multiple times a week. That’s different. How is it different? Because my friends are important to me and mine aren’t important to me.
That’s not what I said. God, you’re so defensive. I’m defensive because you’re upset about something that isn’t a problem. I’m allowed to have friends. I’m allowed to make plans. She stood up from the couch, grabbed her phone and keys. You know what? I can’t do this right now. Can’t do what? This. You. Any of it. You don’t deserve access to me when you’re acting like this.
Acting like what? I’m literally just trying to have a conversation. No, you’re being dismissive and disrespectful. I’m disappearing for a few days. Don’t try to contact me. I looked at her standing there with her purse over her shoulder, phone in hand, that familiar expression on her face, the one that said she was waiting for me to beg her to stay, to apologize for something I didn’t do wrong, to validate her manufactured crisis.
Something in me just snapped. Not in an angry way, more like a switch flipping, a clarity settling in. “Disappear longer,” I said quietly. She froze. What? I said disappear longer. Take all the time you need. Take forever if you want. You’re being an [ __ ] Maybe, but I’m done playing this game. This isn’t a game. Yes, it is.
You get upset, you leave, you make me worry and chase after you. You come back feeling powerful. It’s been the same cycle for 6 months. I’m done. Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you realize what you lost. She left. slammed the door. I heard her car start, heard her drive away. I sat on the couch for about 10 minutes, just breathing, feeling this weird sense of calm wash over me.
Then I got up and started looking around the apartment. Everywhere I looked, there were things I’d bought for her. The expensive espresso machine she’d wanted for her birthday, the designer handbag I’d saved up for. The jewelry box on her dresser full of pieces I’d given her over two years. The bookshelf I’d assembled filled with books I’d bought her.
The art prints on the walls she’d picked out but I’d paid for. The couch we were sitting on when she announced she was leaving. I’d bought that too when she said our old one wasn’t good enough. I pulled out my phone and ordered a dozen moving boxes from a same day delivery service. Update one.
The boxes arrived 3 hours later. I spent Wednesday night and all day Thursday packing. The espresso machine went in first, then the handbag, then every piece of jewelry, every book, every item of clothing I’d purchased, every decoration, every kitchen gadget. I was methodical about it, took photos of everything as I packed it, documented it all.
By Thursday evening, I had 12 boxes stacked in the living room. I’d also gone through our shared photo albums and cloud storage, downloading every receipt I could find for purchases I’d made for her. 2 and 1/2 years of receipts. It was staggering when I added it all up. Just over $32,000 worth of gifts. I wasn’t trying to get the money back.
I just wanted her to understand exactly what she was walking away from. Not the monetary value, but the thought, the effort, the times I’d saved up or gone without something I wanted. so I could get her something she’d mentioned once in passing. Friday morning, I called a shipping company, had them come pick up all 12 boxes, paid for expedited delivery to her parents’ house across the state.
Got tracking numbers for everything. My phone had been silent since she left. No calls, no texts, nothing. Exactly what she’d wanted. I’d honored her request for space, just permanently. Friday evening, I was sitting in the now much emptier apartment when my phone buzzed. Message from her. Did you miss me? I looked at that message for a long time.
Thought about all the times before when she’d sent something similar after one of her disappearing acts. All the times I’d responded with relief and apologies and promises to do better. I opened my phone, pulled up the tracking numbers, and sent them all to her in one long message. me. These are tracking numbers for 12 boxes I shipped to your parents’ house.
Everything I ever bought you is in those boxes. You said I don’t deserve access to you. I agree. Consider this my official withdrawal of that access permanently. I hit send and put my phone face down on the coffee table. It buzzed immediately, then again, then started ringing. I ignored it, let it go to voicemail. It rang four more times over the next 10 minutes. Then the text started coming.
What the [ __ ] You shipped my stuff to my parents house. Are you serious right now? This is insane. Call me back. We need to talk about this. I didn’t respond. Just sat there feeling surprisingly calm. Then another notification came through. Not from her, from the shipping company. First package delivered to recipient.
I sent her that screenshot, too. Me. First box just arrived. 11 more to go. Have a nice life. My phone rang again. This time it was her mom calling. I answered. Hello. What on earth is going on? She just called me crying saying, “You’ve broken up and you’re sending boxes of her things here.
” We did break up and those aren’t her things. They’re things I bought for her that she won’t need anymore since we’re not together. This seems very hostile, does it? She told me I don’t deserve access to her and disappeared for 3 days without contact. I’m just respecting her wishes. She does this sometimes. She needs space to process. You know this.
I do know this. And I’m done with it. She can process all the space she wants now permanently. You’re throwing away 2 and 1/2 years over a fight. I’m not throwing it away. She is. She’s been throwing it away slowly for months. I’m just acknowledging it. Her mom sighed. She loves you. She’s just complicated. Complicated is one word for it.
Manipulative is another. That’s not fair, isn’t it? How many times has she done this? Picked a fight over nothing, announced she’s leaving, disappeared for days, then come back expecting everything to be fine. Silence. That’s what I thought. Thanks for accepting the packages. Take care. I hung up. Update two.
Saturday morning, I woke up to 37 text messages and 12 missed calls, all from her. I scrolled through the texts without opening them so she wouldn’t see I’d read them. They ranged from angry to pleading to trying to gaslight me into thinking I’d overreacted. I deleted them all and blocked her number. Then I started the process of separating our lives, changed all my passwords, removed her access from my streaming accounts, called the landlord about breaking the lease.
We’d both signed, but I explained the situation, and he was surprisingly understanding, said he’d let me out of it if I paid 1 month’s penalty. Worth it. Called my bank and removed her as an authorized user on my credit card. She’d never abused it, but I wasn’t taking chances. went through every shared account and subscription and either removed her or cancelled it entirely.
By Saturday afternoon, I’d essentially erased her from my life digitally. All that was left was the physical space we’d shared. My friend came over to help me rearrange furniture, fill in the gaps left by all the things I’d shipped away. We went to a furniture store and I bought some stuff that was actually my style instead of hers.
A comfortable chair instead of the decorative one she’d insisted on. A simple bookshelf instead of the ornate one she’d picked. A coffee table I actually liked. “How you feeling, man?” my friend asked while we assembled the bookshelf. “Honestly, free.” “Yeah, yeah.” I didn’t realize how much energy I was putting into managing her emotions until I stopped.
She always seemed kind of highmaintenance. That’s putting it mildly. Everything was a test. Everything was about whether I’d chase her, prove my love, prioritize her above everything else. That’s exhausting. It really was. We finished the furniture and ordered pizza. Sat in my newish apartment that finally felt like mine again.
My phone buzzed. Email from her since I’d blocked her number. Subject: We need to talk. I deleted it without reading. Sunday morning, her best friend called me. Hey, so she’s really upset. Okay. Okay, that’s all you have to say. What do you want me to say? She told me I don’t deserve access to her and left. I agreed and moved on.
She didn’t mean it like that. She was just upset. She said it six times in the last 6 months. At what point do I take her at her word? She loves you. She loves having someone she can control. That’s not the same thing. You’re being really cold about this, am I? Or am I just done being warm to someone who uses my affection as a weapon? Her friend didn’t have a response to that. Look, I continued.
I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m just done being hurt by her. She can tell people whatever version of this story makes her feel better. I don’t care. I’m out. She wants to come pick up her actual stuff from the apartment. The only stuff left here is things she bought herself. I’ll box it up and leave it with the building manager.
She can get it without seeing me. That’s really what you want? That’s really what I want. I spent Sunday boxing up her actual belongings, clothes she’d bought, toiletries, a few books, some personal items, three boxes total. Left them with the building manager Monday morning with instructions that she could pick them up anytime.
She picked them up Monday afternoon while I was at work. The manager texted me to confirm. That evening, another email. Subject: This is cruel. Body. I can’t believe you’re doing this after everything we’ve been through. After everything I’ve done for you, you’re throwing away our entire relationship because I needed a few days to myself. That’s not love.
That’s not partnership. You’re being vindictive and cruel. and I hope you regret this. I read it twice. Then I replied, “You’re right. It’s not love. Love doesn’t manipulate. Love doesn’t disappear to punish. Love doesn’t use access as a reward and withdrawal as punishment. Whatever we had, it wasn’t love. It was you conditioning me to accept less than I deserved in exchange for breadcrumbs of your attention. I’m done.
Don’t contact me again.” I blocked her email address, too. Update three. Two weeks passed. Quiet, peaceful. I went to work, came home, did things I enjoyed, saw friends without guilt, made plans without asking permission, existed without walking on eggshells. My apartment felt bigger without her energy taking up space.
I did think about her sometimes, not in a missing her way, more in a processing what happened way. Trying to understand how I’d let it go on so long. how I’d normalize behavior that was clearly toxic. A mutual friend reached out, asked if I wanted to get coffee. I said, “Sure. We met at a place downtown.” She got right to it.
She’s telling everyone you had a breakdown. That you shipped all her belongings away in a manic episode. Is that right? Is it true? I shipped away everything I’d bought for her over 2 and 1/2 years. things I’d paid for, not her belongings. Her actual stuff I boxed up and gave back. Why would you do that? Because she told me I don’t deserve access to her, and I realized she was right.
So, I revoked my access permanently. That seems extreme, does it? She disappeared six times in 6 months. Every time it was a power play. Every time I was supposed to beg her to come back. I got tired of the game. She says she loves you. She loves control. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have used abandonment as a punishment every time she didn’t get her way.
The friend sipped her coffee. For what it’s worth, a few of us have noticed the pattern. We just didn’t think it was our place to say anything. I appreciate that. Are you okay? Honestly, I’m better than I’ve been in months, maybe years. Good. You deserve better. Thanks. I went home that evening feeling validated.
It helped knowing I wasn’t crazy, that other people had seen what I’d seen. 3 weeks after the breakup, I matched with someone on a dating app. We talked for a few days, then met for coffee. She was kind, easy to talk to, didn’t text me or play games. On our second date, she asked if I was seeing anyone else. I said, “No, explained.
” I just gotten out of a long relationship. How long ago? 3 weeks. That’s recent. Are you over it? Completely. That was fast. The relationship ended a long time ago. The breakup was just making it official. She smiled. I get that. We kept seeing each other. Nothing serious yet. Just casual dating, but it was nice. Felt normal. Felt healthy.
Update four. A month after the breakup, my ex’s mom called again. I’d forgotten to block her number. Hi, I’m not trying to stir anything up. I just wanted to let you know that she’s struggling. I’m sorry to hear that. Are you? I don’t wish her harm. I just don’t want her in my life. She went through the boxes.
She understands now what you did, why you did it. Good. She wants to apologize. I don’t need an apology. I just need distance. She’s changed. She’s been in therapy working on herself. I’m glad she’s getting help, but that doesn’t change anything between us. We’re done. Can I ask you something? Sure.
Did you ever actually love her? I thought about that. I loved who I thought she was. I loved the potential of what we could have been. But did I love the reality of who she is? I don’t think I did. Not by the end. That’s fair. I guess I just hoped you could give her another chance. She had chances. Six times I let her come back after pulling the same stunt.
That’s six chances. I’m not giving a seventh. I understand. Take care of yourself. You, too. I hung up and finally blocked her mom’s number. Final update. It’s been 3 months now. Life’s good. Really good. The girl I’ve been seeing and I decided to be exclusive. She’s the opposite of my ex in every way that matters.
Communicates openly. Doesn’t play games. Treats me like a partner, not a subject to be controlled. I heard through mutual friends that my ex is dating someone new. Good for her. Hope she treats him better than she treated me, though I doubt it. People don’t usually change patterns that deep without serious work. The apartment lease ended.
I moved to a new place across town. One bedroom, smaller, but completely mine. No ghosts of past relationships. No memories of fights or manipulation. Just clean slate. I ran into my ex once at a grocery store. She saw me, froze, looked like she wanted to say something. I nodded politely, and kept walking. Not out of anger, just out of complete and total indifference.
That’s the thing nobody tells you about toxic relationships. It’s not the love you have to get over. It’s the relief when it finally ends. The weight that lifts, the space that opens up for better things. My ex wanted me to chase her, to prove my love through desperation. Instead, I proved my self-respect by walking away. Those 12 boxes I shipped.
Best $32,000 lesson I ever paid for. Because now I know exactly what I won’t tolerate. What I deserve. What love actually looks like when it’s real and healthy and not weaponized. She said I didn’t deserve access to her. She was right. I deserved access to someone better. Someone who doesn’t disappear to teach lessons.
Someone who stays and communicates and builds instead of destroys. I’m grateful she showed me who she was.
