WHY A MAN. WHY ME.
I was him, once.
I used to be the confusing one. The one who gave mixed signals without meaning to. The one who disappeared the moment things got real.
I didn’t wake up and become better on my own. I lost something that mattered, and finally asked myself why.
Now I write what I wish someone had told the women I hurt. Not to excuse men like who I used to be — but to help you see them clearly, before you hand them your heart.