Oh, so you’ve been told—probably by every pop-psychology Instagram account with a sunset background—that thinking about your ex is the emotional equivalent of drinking bleach. “Don’t do it!” they cry, as if your brain isn’t already a 24/7 highlight reel of every questionable decision you’ve ever made. But here’s the thing: maybe, just maybe, it’s not that bad to think about your ex. Shocking, I know. Somewhere, a therapist just clutched their pearls. But stay with me.
First off, let’s call out the elephant in the room: human beings are wired to ruminate. It’s practically our species’ favorite hobby. You think cavemen didn’t lie awake at night replaying the time they let Oog from the other cave steal their mammoth meat? Please. If you think the solution is to just “not think about it,” congratulations, you’ve invented denial. Spoiler alert: denial doesn’t make the memories go away; it just dresses them up in a trench coat and sunglasses, waiting to jump out at you in the produce aisle when “your song” comes on. So, instead of pretending those thoughts aren’t there, maybe they deserve a little… examination.
Here’s the scandalous truth: thinking about your ex isn’t inherently toxic. What you do with those thoughts, however, is where it can go from “cute reflective moment” to “I just accidentally liked a photo from 2017 while deep-stalking.” Yes, there’s a difference between healthy reflection and cyberstalking that would make the FBI nod in approval. But the thought itself? It’s not evil. It’s not a moral failure. It’s your brain doing its thing, processing old data. Sometimes, thinking about an ex is like opening an old yearbook: part nostalgia, part cringe, part “wow, my hair was really that bad?”
And let’s talk about why those thoughts come up in the first place. Newsflash: they don’t show up because the universe is conspiring to drag you down memory lane. They pop up because your brain is sorting through emotional experiences, like some neurotic librarian with a filing system no one understands. Your ex is a chapter in your story. Of course you’re going to think about them occasionally. That’s not a sign you’re still in love; it’s a sign you’re human. You’re welcome.
Now, here’s where the self-help industrial complex loses its mind. You’re supposed to “cut off all thoughts of them” like it’s some emotional guillotine. Block them, delete them, sage your apartment, burn their hoodie—yeah, sure, you could do all that. But here’s a thought: what if the memories serve a purpose? What if revisiting those moments helps you understand why things ended, what you actually want, and—gasp—how much you’ve grown since then? But no, according to social media, if you so much as accidentally think about their favorite pizza topping, you’ve failed the healing process. Give me a break.
Thinking about your ex can actually be productive. I said it. Write it down. Frame it. Because here’s the tea: you learn from those reflections. You start to notice patterns—like how you always date people who hate dogs even though you love dogs, or how you keep ignoring red flags because “they’re quirky.” When you think about your ex with a little emotional distance, you get insights you couldn’t have while crying into your pillow listening to Adele. It’s like emotional archaeology: you dig through the rubble, find the artifacts, and maybe, just maybe, you stop repeating history.
And let’s not forget, sometimes thinking about your ex is just plain entertaining. Don’t act like you’ve never chuckled to yourself remembering how they thought cryptocurrency was going to make them a millionaire by 25. Or how they pronounced “espresso” as “expresso” and you let it slide because you were blinded by love—or lust. Thinking about your ex can be a free comedy special courtesy of your own brain. Why deprive yourself of that?
But here’s the kicker: society has this obsession with demonizing the ex. They’re either the villain of your story or the one who got away. Heaven forbid they’re just… a person who mattered to you at some point and now doesn’t. That gray area? It drives people nuts. Because if you admit to thinking about them, suddenly everyone assumes you want them back. No, Karen, I don’t want them back. I just remembered that one time they slipped on ice and tried to play it off, and it was hilarious. Calm down.
Let’s also address the bittersweet side of it. Sometimes thinking about an ex reminds you of who you were during that time—good, bad, and ugly. Maybe you cringe at how much you tolerated. Maybe you smile at how carefree you used to be. Either way, those thoughts connect you to your own timeline. They’re mile markers on the road of your messy, beautiful life. Why erase them? Why pretend they never happened? You’re not a robot; you’re a human with a memory bank full of awkward moments, bad decisions, and love that felt like the best thing in the world—until it didn’t.
Of course, there’s a caveat here. If thinking about your ex spirals into obsessive regret or prevents you from moving forward, that’s a different story. But occasional, reflective thoughts? They’re not just harmless; they’re useful. They can even be healing. You get to remember the good without longing for it, and the bad without letting it define you. It’s like looking at an old scar—you remember how you got it, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just part of you.
So the next time someone tells you to “stop thinking about your ex,” roll your eyes so hard they can hear it. Tell them maybe, just maybe, those thoughts are part of the process. Maybe they’re little reminders of how far you’ve come. Maybe they’re even a source of strength. Or maybe you’re just bored and your brain is scrolling through old episodes of your life. Either way, it’s not a crime. It’s not a setback. It’s not bad. It’s just… life.
Because the truth is, thinking about your ex doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It means you’re remembering. And remembering isn’t the enemy. Forgetting isn’t the goal. Growth is. And sometimes growth comes from sitting with those memories, laughing at them, learning from them, and then moving on—not by pretending they never existed, but by acknowledging that they shaped who you are now.
So go ahead, think about your ex. Just don’t drunk-text them. That’s where I draw the line.