Promoted to Acquaintance

Special thanks to just rojie for today’s writing prompt.

How would your ex(es) or former friends describe you?

I don’t know that I have a lot of “former friends.” Falling out with people is rare for me, though not unheard of. The most recent was a guy I’ve referred to before as “the Hick.” We stopped talking years ago, but we ran into each other at a bar recently. While it was nice to catch up, I know things will never be the same. If someone were to ask him about me, I think he’d have good things to say, though he’d definitely question my choice in women—and back then, he wouldn’t have been entirely incorrect.

But as for my exes, X1 and X2? They probably wouldn’t have many flattering things to say about the version of me they married. And truthfully? I’m okay with that.

The “Promotion” to Acquaintance

I’ve recently “promoted” both of them to the status of acquaintance. I use that term because of an old joke from my days in a Verizon call center: when an employee was fired, we’d say they were “promoted to customer.” It was a way of reclaiming space.

By moving them to “acquaintance,” I’ve reclaimed the mental real estate they used to occupy. There is a quiet, civil peace now. With X1, that peace was forged when Kid 1 got sick during the pandemic; we realized then that our only priority was his well-being. But “civil” doesn’t mean I know them anymore. I know things about them in a “trivia” sense, but I don’t know who they are today—and frankly, I don’t care to.

The Clean Exhale

For a long time, my silence was fueled by anger. I didn’t want to know anything because the wounds were still fresh. But as I’ve leaned into the work of rebuilding my own life, that anger has been replaced by a “clean exhale.” I’m not leaning against the door to keep it shut anymore; I’ve simply moved into a different house.

I’ve reached a point of indifference where I don’t even care to know the names of the people they date. It isn’t about being cold; it’s about being finally, truly preoccupied with my own story.

The Asshole in Someone’s Story

If I had to identify the “glitch” that led to those old splits, it was a lack of directness. Driven by anxiety and a desperate need to be a people-pleaser, I would “fall on the sword” rather than have a hard conversation. I’d stay silent about stress or money troubles until I cracked, rather than just saying, “We can’t afford this.”

Realizing that in counseling was a major breakthrough, but it led me to an even bigger truth I once saw in a meme: “No matter what you do, you’re going to be the asshole in someone’s story.”

I could be Father of the Year, the most benevolent ex-husband, or the most supportive friend in the world, and it wouldn’t matter. If someone needs to paint me as the monster to make their own narrative feel better, they will. I have zero control over the “Rob” that lives in their heads.

So, let them describe me however they want. Whether I’m the villain or just a distant memory in their story doesn’t change the fact that I’m the hero in my own. I’m too busy hitting my milestones and protecting my peace to worry about the reviews.

Rebuilding a life takes grit, consistency, and a lot of ‘Option C’ thinking. Whether I’m 900 days into a streak or reflecting on the decade of posts that led me here, the mission remains the same. New to the blog? Start your journey here to see the blueprint behind the rebuild.

Today’s post is inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt. While I’ve taken the topic in my own direction for the Road to 1,000 Days, you can find more responses to today’s prompt HERE .

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AI art created by Google Gemini

The article “Promoted to Acquaintance” first appeared on Rebuilding Rob