Why Blocking My Ex Wasn’t Immature
For a long time, I believed blocking an ex was childish. I thought it meant you were weak, bitter, or unable to “handle things like an adult.” That’s what people said, and I believed it.
So after my divorce, I didn’t block her immediately. I told myself I was being mature. I told myself I was healed enough to handle seeing her posts, her stories, her life.
I lied to myself.
I Thought I Was Strong — Until I Wasn’t
At first, it seemed fine. I scrolled past her posts like they didn’t matter. I convinced myself I felt nothing.
Then one random night, I saw a picture of her smiling with someone new. I laughed it off in the moment. But later that night, I couldn’t sleep. My chest felt tight. My mind wouldn’t rest.
That’s when I realized something uncomfortable:
I wasn’t angry anymore, I was just hurting quietly.
Blocking Wasn’t About Hate, It Was About Survival
When I finally blocked her, it wasn’t dramatic. No long message. No final warning. I just woke up one day tired of resetting my healing every time I opened my phone.
I wasn’t trying to punish her.
I was trying to protect myself.
And honestly? Blocking her gave me peace faster than anything else I tried.
Constant Access Was Slowing My Healing
Before blocking her, every little thing set me back:
• a status update
• a throwback photo
• a random post that wasn’t even about me
Each one reopened wounds I was trying to close. I would heal for days, then relapse emotionally in seconds — all because of one post.
Once I blocked her, the noise stopped. And for the first time in a long while, my mind became quiet.
I Had an Emotional Relapse Before I Learned
Before I blocked her, I sent a late-night message once. Nothing serious. Just “Hope you’re okay.”
She replied politely. Briefly. Coldly.
I stared at that message for hours, reading meaning into nothing. That small interaction delayed my healing for weeks. I realized then that some doors don’t need to be slammed, they just need to be closed permanently.
People Thought I Was Being Petty
When people found out I blocked her, the comments came:
• “Why are you acting bitter?”
• “You should be mature about it.”
• “It shows you’re still affected.”
And the funny thing is — they were right.
I was still affected. That’s exactly why I blocked her.
Maturity isn’t pretending something doesn’t hurt.
Maturity is admitting when it does and taking responsibility for your own healing.
Blocking Taught Me That Access Is a Privilege
One powerful lesson I learned is this:
Not everyone deserves continued access to your life — especially after they’ve walked out of it.
Blocking didn’t make me cruel.
It made me intentional.
It helped me rebuild without emotional interference.
Will I Ever Unblock Her? Maybe. Maybe Not.
Right now, the block stays — not out of spite, but out of self-respect.
Maybe one day I’ll be healed enough that it won’t matter anymore.
And if that day comes, I’ll decide then.
But for now, peace matters more than appearance.
Final Thoughts
Blocking my ex wasn’t immaturity.
It was self-awareness.
It was growth.
It was me choosing peace over pride.
Sometimes, the strongest move after divorce isn’t staying connected to prove you’re “okay.”
Sometimes, the strongest move is quietly cutting off access and finally choosing yourself.
Joseph Abdalla