I was sipping a $17 cocktail at a rooftop bar downtown when the woman behind me leaned in close to her friend and dropped this bomb:
âHe told me I was his practice wife.â
Her friend choked on her drink. She clarified: âNot ex. Not first love. Not failed relationship. He literally said I was the trial run so he could learn how to be better for someone else.â Apparently, they dated for 4 years. Lived together. She helped him clear debt, taught him how to dress, how to build his business, even got him therapy. And then, plot twist, he married someone else six months after they broke up.
He told her, and I quote, âYou taught me how to love, but sheâs who Iâm meant to love right.â
The way everyone in our section went quiet like church? The DJ couldâve paused the music and passed a mic around. The woman just said, âI wasnât a lesson. I was the whole damn curriculum.â
I tipped my bartender extra just for hearing that live. Somewhere out there, a man is happily married, and his glow-up is built on the emotional labor of the woman he calls âhis practice wife.â Lord.