The Ghosts of Relationships Past (And Why I’m Still Learning From Them)**

It’s 9 AM on a Monday, and I’m sitting in my favorite corner of the campus library—the one by the window where the light hits just right—pretending to study but really just doodling dress designs in the margins of my notebook. Classic avoidance behavior. Because last night, I did something dangerous: I scrolled through my ex’s Instagram.

Cue the collective groan. I know, I know. But before you judge me, let me explain.

It’s been almost a year since we broke up, and I’d like to say I’m ~totally over it~, but the truth is, relationships leave marks. Not just the obvious ones—the inside jokes that don’t land anymore, the songs you can’t listen to without wincing—but the quieter, subtler ones. The way you fold your laundry because he liked it neat. The way you still hesitate before ordering spicy food because he couldn’t handle it.

And here’s the thing I’m realizing: those marks aren’t failures. They’re evidence. Proof that we loved, we lost, and we’re still here, stitching ourselves back together with slightly more experience than before.

I used to think growth meant shedding every trace of the people who’ve left, like a snake wriggling out of its skin. But now? I think it’s more like… collage art. Taking the scraps—the good, the bad, the “why did I ever think that haircut was a good idea”—and making something new out of them.

So yeah, maybe I’ll always flinch a little when I hear that song. Maybe I’ll still fold my t-shirts too neatly. But I’m also designing a collection inspired by the way heartbreak feels like a bruise—tender, but fading. And that’s something.

Here’s to the ghosts of relationships past—not haunting us, but teaching us.

xx Mandy

(P.S. The barista remembered my name again. We’re officially in a toxic cycle.)