It Happened To Me: My Boyfriend's Ex "Came Back From The Dead" To Harass Me Even Worse (Part Two Of A Saga)
Faked screenshots and made-up herpes diagnoses… never underestimate a former lover who already went too far.
Let me first explain: This is the follow-up to Part One of this story, where I delved into being the recipient of an incessant harassment and smear campaign from two of my boyfriend's ex-girlfriends. You may want to read Part One first, if you haven't already.
The comment section in Part One sparked a lively discussion about what others would do in my shoes… and questions about what happened next. This is the continuation of that story from my perspective. IT HAPPENED TO ME.
I saved the endless, distressing messages from these women in a folder that helped craft this narrative. Being the target of bullying is not fun for anyone and is truly harmful to all who are involved. My way of processing this negativity was to write about it, examining how to handle the situation while holding myself accountable. Within these words is a call for healing and an indirect response method to those who seek to inflict pain on a stranger….
By Sarah Swinwood
The staged death of Sadie lasted about three days. She’d dedicated herself to spending sleepless, mania-infused nights plotting a chilling hoax (most likely under the tutelage of Veronica) who assisted in staging the event with her calls and text messages of condolence. On the third day, Ricky received a text from Sadie.
“Hey, I’m really sorry. I hadn’t slept much in a couple of days and kind of lost it. I was sedated and brought to a rehab center to rest. I’m starting to feel better. I’ll apologize to Sarah, too. I guess I just didn’t realize how deep my feelings were for you, this is hitting me harder than I imagined,” she messaged.
I had hoped the crisis had shocked her system into awareness. Sadie must have known that this was a step too far. It had to have scared her. Ricky agreed to take her call before we jumped in his truck to go for lunch. When he hopped in the driver’s seat, his eyes were watery.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, “What did she have to say?”
“She apologized, said she wasn’t in her right mind, and said sorry to you again, too.”
“Ok, well maybe she’ll chill out for a bit now. I’m glad to hear she’s getting help. How do you feel?”
“Yeah, I mean, I feel sad for her. This is such an extreme reaction. I don’t know what she wanted from me.”
“Well, that’s why it wasn’t sustainable for you to stay there. She obviously considered you to be still together.”
“I don’t know why? I’ve dated other people, she knows that. She also never hugs me or even touches my arm or hand. I remember when she originally offered me the room a few days a week. It was on days when she was supposed to be away at her family’s place. I never wanted to be in the city anyway.”
“Blurry boundaries. It’s worth looking at how things got to this point.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I could have handled this better. I guess I didn’t deal with the situation in the healthiest way.”
“You know it will be best not to speak to her for a while. You can’t be the one to help her through this.”
“Oh, I know, I don’t think we should speak for at least a year or two. Maybe one day in the distant future, you know, so she knows I will always care about her and her daughter.”
“Naturally, you have compassion for her; but you can’t save her from this.”
Sadie didn’t message me to apologize as she’d said she would, which didn’t bother me. I was relieved that she and Veronica had stopped texting me. Where could they possibly take it from here? When Ricky had briefly spoken to Sadie, he suggested that she stay away from Veronica, who was such a negative influence. Friends help you strengthen and heal — not encourage you to lie and manipulate to the point of exhaustion.
I Googled myself and looked at my social media, trying to observe the content through the eyes of a stranger. A photo of me at the L.A. Film Fest from over ten years ago. Videos of me doing stand-up comedy or freestyle rapping. “Ok,” I thought. “These women think I am pursuing a career in show business.”
(The obscure threat from an invented grandmother claiming Conan O’Brien would “shut me down” for being in a relationship with her granddaughter’s ex-boyfriend still cracks me up.)
I switched my public Instagram to private back when Veronica started sending screenshots of my photos to Ricky. She would zero in on different aspects of my body and appearance, or take pics of Ricky that I posted in my stories, and text them to him.
“Look at this, you’re all over the internet you idiot. This girl thinks she’s in love with you, that you’re official. Wait until she finds out the truth about you,” she oozed.
Both Veronica and Sadie pivoted between insulting us and setting up elaborate traps to lure Ricky back. After about a week of not hearing from them, a comment was posted to my LinkedIn page where I present my skills as an educator, writer, translator, and mentor to children in the performing arts,
“This woman is a homewrecking slut who has no business teaching or guiding our youth. Do not hire her.”