When the Door You Closed Starts Knocking Again
She sat on the porch, head in her hands, wondering what had just happened. Her estranged husband of ten years — gone for five — had just left, escorted by the police.
Relief mingled with disbelief. A decade of chaos had finally come full circle.
There was a time she prayed for him to return. And then, the darker years when she prayed and fasted for him to vanish from her life altogether.
Their marriage had ended in disaster after years of deceit, infidelity, and financial manipulation. But the wound that cut deepest wasn’t the cheating. It was the way he rewrote their story, defaming her, abandoning their children, and turning everyone they knew against her.
When he left, he didn’t just walk out — he erased her.
How He Rewrote the Story
He told anyone who would listen that she was the problem.
That she was lazy, ungrateful, unstable, and a burden. He said she was wasteful and brought “bad luck.”
He said she made him miserable and that leaving her was an act of self-preservation.
To his family, friends, and even strangers, he painted himself as the noble man escaping a toxic wife.
People believed him. They whispered and judged.
While she struggled to feed their children, sleeping in borrowed rooms and working odd jobs just to survive, he built a new life with a mistress he praised as “smarter, prettier, more spiritual, and balanced.”
He transferred assets into the mistress’s name to hide them from the divorce settlement. He bought her jewelry, property, and even publicly thanked her for “restoring his joy.”
Meanwhile, his own children lived on handouts.
He didn’t just abandon them, he humiliated them.
Then, the Mistress Turns Out to Be the Devil’s Apprentice
Word on the grapevine said his fairytale had crashed.
The mistress — the one he swore was “his real soulmate,” turned out to be running her own scheme.
While she played house and paraded their secret love child, she was also siphoning his money, properties, and dignity.
Her secret lover turned out to be the father of the child he thought was his.
The scandal broke like a bad movie: police investigations, frozen accounts, public disgrace.
And that’s when he came back: disheveled and remorseful.
He said he had been “under a spell.” That he’d finally seen who truly loved him.
He wanted forgiveness.
He wanted home.
He wanted her peace — the one he’d once burned to ashes.
And for a moment, she didn’t know what to do.
Would you take him back?
Before you decide, consider this:
Why They Always Come Back?
Let’s be honest, there are reasons people circle back.
Maybe they remember the version of you who nurtured them through chaos. Maybe they want comfort, not necessarily love. Or maybe life humbled them, and they now see your worth through the lens of loss.
It’s easy to assume bad motives, but sometimes people come back because they’re broken not because they’re manipulative.
The challenge is knowing the difference.
The Audacity of Amnesia
When a man says, “I made a mistake,” ask which part was the mistake.
Was it falling in love with another woman while still married?
Was it defaming you to family, friends, and strangers — calling you lazy, ungrateful, unworthy?
Was it transferring assets to someone else while you begged for grocery money?
Or was it kicking you when you were already down, homeless, humiliated, and heartbroken?
Because, we like to think remorse means transformation, but sometimes it’s just nostalgia mixed with guilt.
And yet… people can change. They can grow, heal, and wake up to what they destroyed.
That’s the gray area no one likes to talk about — the in-between where forgiveness wrestles with self-preservation.
The Mirage of Change
It’s easy to roll our eyes and say “No, sir. You weren’t under a spell. You were under an illusion of control, ego, and self-importance.”
Yet who among us hasn’t blamed something bigger when facing our worst selves? Love, lust, pride, fear — they all cast their spells.
Maybe he truly believed his delusion. Maybe he just didn’t have the courage to admit the damage was deliberate.
That’s what makes these returns so complicated. They touch the softest part of our humanity, the part that still wants to believe people can change.
The Real Test Isn’t His Return — It’s Your Growth
When an ex comes back, the question isn’t “Should I take him back?”
It’s “What have I learned since he left?”
Many women see the ex’s return as victory. “He came back. God heard my prayer.”
But maybe God’s real question is: Have you learned your lesson?
For some, reconciliation is closure. For others, it’s a relapse.
Second chances can be sacred. They can also be spiritual traps dressed as closure.
Maybe the point isn’t to decide immediately, but to sit with the discomfort — to ask:
Has he really changed, or am I just longing for the familiar?
Am I ready to forgive, or am I afraid to be alone again?
Growth is less about rejection or reunion and more about discernment.
Why “Remembering” Isn’t Bitterness — It’s Wisdom
“Remember what he did” isn’t about revenge, it’s about responsibility.
Memory doesn’t mean you’re holding a grudge; it means you’re holding perspective.
Memory is not revenge. It’s protection.
Maybe it protects you from repeating pain. Maybe it helps you measure whether change is genuine or just temporary remorse.
It’s not always wrong to give someone a second chance. But it’s also not weakness to say, “Not this time.”
Because the same man who once weaponized your loyalty could gladly do it again if you hand him the ammunition.
The Mirror Moment
When an ex returns, you’re not just choosing between him and freedom. You’re choosing between who you were and who you’ve become.
We’re asked to choose:
Am I the doormat who mistook suffering for loyalty?
Am I the fixer who believed love could cure narcissism?
Am I the woman who measures her worth by who stays, or by who she refuses to settle for?
or
Will I react from the pain that broke me, or the peace that rebuilt me?
Will I let the past dictate the present, or will I use it as a teacher?
There’s no universal right answer. Only honest reflection.
The Takeaway: Remember What He Did— But Also Remember Who You Are
He said you were the problem.
He said leaving you was a blessing.
He called you unworthy.
He replaced you until the replacement failed him.
Now he’s back, humbled.
Maybe that’s justice. Maybe that’s grace. Maybe it’s both.
You don’t owe anyone access to your healed self, but you do owe yourself honesty about what forgiveness looks like for you.
Closing Reflection
Love can be reborn, but only if it’s rebuilt on truth, not nostalgia.
Taking someone back who once broke you isn’t always foolish; sometimes it’s brave. But bravery also means knowing when peace costs too much.
It could also mean reincarnating your own pain. And the bravest thing to do is close the door twice.
So maybe the real art of taking back an estranged ex isn’t about saying yes or no.
It’s about asking: Does this version of me still fit inside that story?
Because remembering isn’t holding a grudge — it’s holding the lesson.
Have you ever faced the dilemma of an ex returning? Did you say yes, no, or something in between? Share your story in the comments or tag me on social media with #MsNormalMoments — let’s talk about what it really means to choose between history and peace.
