How To Deal With The Fact Your Partner Has A History

I did a second article for Thoughtcatalogue that didn't get a response so I'll put it here. This one is serious one out the two I wrote:

There comes a moment, in every relationship, when you wake up, turn to your significant other and realise you’re not the first. You’re not the first person to have kissed them. You’re not the first person to have had sex with them. You’re not the first person to see them naked or hold their hand or look them deep in the eye. Other people have done this and only now you realise. Then you think about these people – it’s natural right? – you think about what they did with your current partner, you think about what they had and whether you have it, or more. You think that they ended, one of them messed up, and you don’t want to do that, you don’t want to mess up.

Do I matter? You think. Am I just another number on their list? Am I going to be the last or am I right in the middle? Did they reveal this much to their ex? Did they kiss their one night stands like this? Did they laugh at their jokes? Did they tell them they loved them?

Then you have to meet one of them, one of you. “It was one night, it happened before I met you,” they say, “it didn’t mean anything, we’re just friends now.” You accept this, you trust them but you stand and watch them talk and feel yourself shrink. The one night stand has power over you – they were there first, you have their sloppy seconds – you know it and they know it. They saw them naked, kissed them, felt their bodies, way before you did. They smile at you, no, smirk and it’s a patronising smirk, a smirk that makes you shrink even more. Your partner’s phone goes off and it’s their ‘friend’ – the one night stand – arranging to go out with the others. You bite your tongue because it doesn’t matter, it didn’t matter but they have a connection, something happened between them before you even arrived. You can’t be mad but you can’t get over it. The one night stand is part of their story.

Then you ask. You have to. It’s eating you away. And they tell you a number and give you all the answers you could ever have wanted. But it doesn’t help. You keep thinking about it. You’ve already told them every bit of your history, every nugget of information but you feel like they have a lot more to tell you, details they’ve missed out. A fragmented truth. You can’t say anything now, you’d sound crazy. Just ignore it. Ignore it.

But then you mention it again. You want to know details, want to know what happened, why it happened, and then it will help you get over it. They’re uncomfortable when they tell you and you don’t understand why. You go for a walk and spend two hours questioning them, pushing for more details because you need to see this person as a whole, you need to understand their past to understand their future. You need to know what kind of person they once were, to know what person they are going to become.

Even now it still makes you uncomfortable. Not as much but a little. But you know that they’ve told you everything and it was uncomfortable for them and they put up with your crazy questioning and obsessive thinking. And then you know they care, they matter and not many people would so you wouldn’t want to give them up, because you’re their present and you have one thing over those before you, you have them now and, hopefully forever.