I'm older now, but memories creep in. When they do, I usually tell them to 'get lost'. There is no value on dwelling on them. I'm happier when I don't.
But time and again, I do grieve for the younger me. That girl who wasn't strong enough to say 'no.' I should have spared myself years of nonsense. I knew I didn't like him. I sure didn't love him. I was codependent to my faith. My religion set the ground rules.
I didn't have the confidence to know there were many other choices available to me. I lived in a small city growing up. I had a very sheltered life. So I complied when he stuck like glue to me not letting me escape the relationship that shouldn't have happened.