Why You Should Google Your Ex-Boyfriend

These random snippets of an ex's life are like a skeleton. They provide a frame, but I was missing the flesh that makes a body whole. Is he still so skinny he could borrow my shorts? Does he hear “I’ll Be” and remember me? Does his wife cry during happy movies? What kind of dad is he? Did he coach his son’s t-ball team? Does their family dance in the kitchen when cleaning up after dinner like ours does?

With Fading Affect Bias, as I consider old relationships, I also have an incomplete framework. I think of the sweet time he brought me a two-liter of Diet Coke on a first date because he remembered how much I liked it. But I forget about the painful breakup and the hours we spent on the phone, trying to make things work when the relationship was past its expiration date. I remember the butterflies of a first kiss but forget how I never felt accepted by his friends.

This dangerous variety of nostalgia tinges my Google searches with regret and missed opportunity.

So I performed another search, this time looking at the skeleton of my life. I skimmed through the social media profiles, the neglected LinkedIn account, the bylines and biographical information. Yes, I was glimpsing an incomplete life, but this time I knew the rest of the story.

From my LinkedIn profile I can see I’ve spent years in a classroom. From real life I know I’ve made lifelong connections with students and collected hundreds of hilarious (in hindsight) stories, like the time a student read semi-explicit poetry while a principal observed my lesson. From Instagram photos I can see how handsome my husband is, how happy we look as we smile at the camera. From real life I know he makes me tea every night and only gets mildly annoyed when I leave every cabinet open while making dinner.

I know the bribery that resulted in the smiling family portraits, the squabble that happened off-camera during the vacation photos, and the constant frustration during that certain job on my LinkedIn resume. These are the ligaments and sinews that put muscle on this Google-search skeleton, and I’m grateful for them all.

So yes, my rose-colored tech temptation makes me wonder for a fleeting moment if life would’ve been better if I had made different decisions. My amateur detective skills send my imagination down meandering paths with outcomes vastly different from my own, all leading back to a giant “What if?” Thankfully, I don’t have access to a time machine, so I’ll never find out.

Then I see last night’s teacup on the counter and hear the uproarious laughter of my young adult sons drifting in from the driveway. I close my search tab and step back into my real life. It isn’t perfect, but it’s the full-color life I chose.

Do you ever Google your ex? Let us know in the comments below.