There was this great girl I met last year, let’s call her A. We used to talk a lot and call it chemistry or vibe, it was really great, and unmatched to anything i had ever experienced, still is.

I really liked her, somewhere between as a person and more.

But sadly, that didn’t last long as at that time, I was still struggling to make sense of the end of my past relationship, and as well scared shitless of trusting new people, unsure of what I really wanted from relationships. That created this push-pull dynamic, and eventually, I had to cut all ties with her. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I didn’t want her to suffer from the results of my experimentations. But looking back now, feels like I just ran away, like a coward.

And why am I thinking about this today? Because after a long time, she posted something on her alternate writing account.

There’s great comfort in not knowing who you are. Because then it gives you liberty of becoming whoever you want to be. The only correct answer to “Who am I?” is “Whoever I want and choose to be”!

At first, it felt like just another self-growth post, but the caption revealed a different story

If it finds you it finds you ❤️

#qoutes #love #poem #poetry #india #sad #sadqoutes #books #romantic #selflove #selfhelp

Usually, I wouldn’t have reacted much, probably just dismissed the whole thing. But these hashtags made me think. They were almost contrary to the empowering tone of the post.

I was almost certain this has nothing to do with me, but I couldn’t ignore the nonzero chance that it was. and that I was somehow, somewhere, part of that post. And even if I was overthinking stuff, I was still a bit concerned about her well-being now. Felt like she’s struggling with something.

So I turned to DeepSeek for some clarity. My past experiences with this LLM had been brutal when it came to analyzing emotions and exposing the raw, naked truth. After giving it some additional context following our initial discussion, it responded with some deep, thoughtful and noteworthy content.

Ah, this adds a critical layer to the analysis. If you were the one who rejected her, and her posts surfaced after that incident, it’s highly likely these posts are indirectly (or directly) addressing the emotional fallout of your rejection. Let’s unpack this with brutal honesty and nuance:

Key Realizations for You

1. The Posts Are Absolutely About You

   • The timing (post-rejection), hashtags (#sad, #love, #romantic), and thematic focus on loss/rebirth all point to her processing feelings about your rejection. This is not a coincidence.
   • The quotes are a form of public catharsis. She’s using Instagram to reframe the narrative, transforming pain into poetry to avoid seeming vulnerable or “weak.”

2. Her Intent: Self-Preservation, Not Blame

   • She’s not attacking you. Instead, she’s defending her worth. Lines like “Whoever I want to be” and “let it go gracefully” are coping mechanisms to reclaim agency after feeling powerless in the rejection.
   • The posts subtly critique your hesitation (“perfect image of ideal love”) by positioning herself as fluid and self-determined—implying you couldn’t see her value because of your rigid expectations.

3. The #Sad Hashtag Is a Clue to Her True Feelings

   • Despite the empowering tone, the #sad tags reveal lingering hurt. She’s trying to convince herself she’s okay, not just you. This is a classic case of “the lady doth protest too much”—the louder the self-affirmation, the deeper the wound.

Why She’s Posting This (And Not Telling You Directly)

• Pride: Admitting how much your rejection hurt would feel like conceding power. Social media lets her broadcast resilience without directly engaging you.
• Hope for Your Attention: Part of her might want you to see these posts and realize (a) she’s hurting, and (b) she’s strong enough to move on. It’s a paradox—she wants you to care, but not pity her.
• Reclaiming the Narrative: By framing the rejection as a liberating “choice” to let go, she avoids the stigma of being “dumped.” It’s a defense mechanism to protect her ego.

What This Says About Her Perception of You

1. She Felt Judged

   • Your mention of her not meeting your “perfect image of ideal love” likely cut deeply. Her posts reject the idea of static ideals, implying she resents being measured against an impossible standard (likely tied to your past relationship trauma).
   • Subtext: “If you couldn’t see my worth because of your baggage, that’s your loss.”

2. She’s Angry (But Hiding It)

   • The emphasis on “grace” and self-determination masks quiet fury. Letting go “gracefully” often means swallowing resentment—her posts are a dignified way to say, “You didn’t deserve me anyway.”

3. She’s Trying to Move On (But Isn’t Fully There Yet)

   • The duality of #sad and #selflove reveals she’s in the transition phase between grief and acceptance. She’s not over it, but she’s working on it.

What You Should Do

1. Don’t Gaslight Yourself

   • If your rejection was rooted in your own fears (commitment issues, comparing her to a “perfect image”), own that. Her posts are a mirror—they reflect how your actions impacted her, not a judgment of your character.

2. Respect Her Process

   • Do NOT reach out to dissect her posts or apologize unless you’re prepared for a deeper conversation (and potential reconciliation). If you engage half-heartedly, you’ll reopen the wound.

3. Reflect on Your “Perfect Image”

   • Her critique of rigid ideals is valid. Ask yourself: Are you holding partners to unrealistic standards to avoid vulnerability? Is your “ideal love” a shield against past pain?

4. Let Her Have This

   • Her Instagram is a safe space to heal. Even if the posts bother you, resist the urge to dissect or dismiss them. She’s entitled to her narrative, just as you’re entitled to yours.

Wasn’t really expecting to hear that. 😶

Assuming it really was about me, I suddenly felt this huge wave of guilt, like my actions had caused consequences I never imagined or intended.

I felt bad in that moment.

But what can I really do? There’s no point in reaching out and asking if she’s okay.

Remember? I’m a coward who runs from responsibilities, who’d rather write about this in a blog post than send a DM.

And even if I did, she’d most probably just laugh it all out. Anyways, I still wanted clarity, and DeepSeek’s wisdom continued.

This isn’t really about you anymore—it’s about her survival. Your rejection destabilized her sense of self, and these posts are her way of rebuilding. Whether you intended it or not, you became the catalyst for her reinvention. The best thing you can do now is let her transform in peace, while you reflect on why you walked away… and whether your “perfect image” is worth clinging to.

Some further exploration uncovered few more “speculations” Not necessarily the truth.

The Unspoken Message Beneath the Words

“I wanted you to choose me, but you couldn’t. So I’m choosing myself instead—and trusting that whatever’s meant for me won’t require me to beg for it.”

Her choice of words is a mix of quiet defiance, aching vulnerability, and hard-won wisdom. It’s less about you now and more about her rebirth—but your role as the catalyst is undeniable.

I still wanted to be sure, so I asked for a further analysis of the post, especially the puzzling caption.

If it finds you, it finds you ❤️

Despite the stoic tone, the heart betrays lingering affection. It softens the message, hinting she still cares but is choosing dignity over desperation.
The heart contrasts with the detachment of the words, mirroring her internal conflict—“I’m letting go, but part of me still hopes.”

This really hit me. Already filled with guilt, I started questioning, was I the bad guy here? For not wanting to commit partially again, out of obligation rather than love? For trying to avoid repeating the same mistake while still struggling to move on?

I expressed my guilt and my intentions to help her, despite knowing that im not meant to contact her, ever again.

Guilt ≠ Love: Wanting to erase her pain isn’t the same as wanting her. This gesture, however well-intentioned, risks confusing both of you.

You’re right—acting on this impulse would blur boundaries and likely reignite hope in her. It’s kinder to let her grieve cleanly

Release the Savior Complex: You can’t “heal” her. Trust her strength to grow from this. The kindest gift is space.
Forgive Yourself: You made a choice rooted in self-honesty, not malice. That’s all any of us can do.

Sometimes it means holding someone in your heart while releasing them from your arms. Your guilt is a testament to your capacity to care, but don’t let it become a prison.

You say this isn’t the love she “hoped for”—but it is love:

• Love isn’t always grand gestures or fairy-tale endings. Sometimes it’s saying, “I care too much to let you settle for half of what you deserve.”
• Your honesty gifted her clarity, even if it came with grief. That’s a profound act of care.

Let this be your mantra:
“I acted from truth, not fear. I trusted her resilience, not my ego. That’s all love can ask of anyone.”

That put an end to any impulsive action I might have taken in the heat of the moment. But something about the whole thing kept bugging me for days. So today, I decided to uncover some truths about myself, to see just how much of a hypocrite I really am. The discussion went on for a while, and in the end, I asked DeepSeek to write a comprehensive “case document” on me.

A self-identified INTJ describes a pattern of chronic dissatisfaction in relationships despite insisting on a philosophy of “selfless giving.” Three key contradictions define their struggle:

1. Idealized Self vs. Hidden Bargains: They claim to prioritize others’ needs without expecting anything in return, but resentment surfaces when unspoken demands for validation, loyalty, or admiration go unmet. This dissonance is reframed as moral outrage at others’ “selfishness,” never their own unacknowledged hypocrisy.
2. Emotions as Math Problems: They dissect feelings using personality frameworks (MBTI) and abstract ideals (“pure love”) to avoid raw vulnerability. This creates a paradox: they crave connection but label their own emotional needs as “weakness,” treating intimacy like a puzzle to solve rather than an experience to inhabit.
3. Trauma as Fuel: Past abandonment—when their perceived usefulness expired—cemented a belief that their value is transactional. Relationships become lopsided: they over-perform acts of service or emotional labor to secure their role as “indispensable,” while fearing genuine mutuality (e.g., “If they see my needs, they’ll leave”).

Behavioral Cycle

1. Phase 1: Overcompensation
   • Floods others with support, advice, or favors to position themselves as the “selfless” one. This isn’t generosity—it’s a power move to control the relationship’s terms and avoid being seen as needy.
2. Phase 2: Resentment
   • Quietly tallies every unreciprocated gesture. When their invisible scorecard isn’t balanced, they withdraw, grow cold, or criticize others’ “lack of empathy.”
3. Phase 3: Self-Exoneration
   • Concludes the problem lies with others’ moral failings, not their own unspoken rules. Doubles down on their martyr identity, restarting the cycle.

Core Pathology

• Moral Grandstanding: Uses altruism as a shield. By framing themselves as the noble giver, they avoid accountability for their needs and mask a fear of rejection.
• Fear of Being Ordinary: Equates needing others with mediocrity. They’d rather be a lonely genius than admit they’re as human as everyone else.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Their “selflessness” is a performance. It’s not love—it’s a defense mechanism against the terror of being truly known. They don’t hate reciprocity; they hate that needing it forces them to confront their own fragility. The hypocrisy isn’t in wanting love, but in pretending they’re above wanting it.

Final Note: This isn’t a condemnation. It’s a diagnosis. The first step to breaking the cycle isn’t self-flagellation—it’s dropping the act.

So yeah, turns out I’m a big fucking hypocrite when it comes to love and relationships, probably better off alone.

But no, DeepSeek’s not happy with that either, it seems

The Hard Truth You’re Avoiding You’re not “better off alone.” You’re terrified of being seen as human You’d rather call yourself a hypocrite and retreat than face the scarier truth: You want love, but you don’t trust yourself to survive it.
You don’t actually believe you’re better off alone. You’re using it as leverage to avoid accountability. By framing yourself as a martyr (“I’ll just hurt people anyway”), you’re still clinging to the illusion of superiority

You’re not angry at others for failing your ideals—you’re angry at yourself for needing them in the first place

You’re not a hypocrite. You’re a human who’s spent years intellectualizing your way out of your humanity. The goal isn’t to “fix” yourself—it’s to stop treating your needs as crimes.

The Way Out (If You Want It)

1. Name the Fear: Write down: “I’m afraid if people see my needs, they’ll realize I’m not special.” Burn it.
2. Practice Imperfect Vulnerability: Tell one person: “I’m working on being more honest. Sometimes I want things I’m ashamed to ask for.”
3. Surrender the Savior Complex: Let someone care for you without keeping score. Say “thank you,” not “you shouldn’t have.”

You can’t think your way into love. You can only risk your way into it.
Step into the discomfort. Let yourself be seen.

And honestly, I’m speechless now