Humans logo

The Yellow Dress

Would you believe the girl in this photo was happy?

By Samantha ParrishPublished about a year ago Updated 8 months ago 6 min read

Yellow was the last color I wore when I left the man that I wanted the rest of my life with.

I've always been a fashion-forward person to enjoy the endless possibilities and experiments to do with fashion. One of the goals I wanted to obtain was to find a solid yellow dress to wear. One day I was shopping at Marshall's with my boyfriend. I was surprised to see that Bardot-styled dresses were still in stock in different colors. I picked up two of them and I asked him, "Orange or Yellow." My hope was excited that he picked the color I had been looking for.

One day after my boyfriend and I had a...difficult weekend where I had to tell him I was hurt by his “actions”.

It was a rare Sunday when he didn’t have a half-ass attitude to go out and do something I wore my yellow dress, and we went on a Sunday date. We were walking around and I asked him to take pictures of my yellow dress for me to enjoy the outfit experiment.

We returned and I uploaded the pictures to my Instagram to share. He sat there and saw the three pictures he took of me on social media. He told me, "You better let me know if any motherf**kers hit you." I brushed it off because it was my account, not his.

Months later, our relationship got worse, then even worse, better, and then at an all-time low in seven months. On the first weekend of March, we had what would be our last argument. He kept accusing me of sleeping with my guy friends who I barely saw because of him. I was accused and called a liar no matter how many times I told the truth that I loved him and devoted my life to him. He feigned sadness to gaslight me as I held him while I cried about how I'll give up more for him.

For months, I kept holding onto a relationship that was hurting me. I gave everything and in return, I was told I wasn't trying hard enough. I was made to feel bad for what I wore, what music I listened to, my love of movies, and how I told him this isn't how you treat people. He dismissed it like he dismissed and justified the emotional abuse he put me through.

Later he held me in his arms and said he wanted me to be happy. I couldn't feel happy at all after what he did to me. I didn't feel happy in his arms like the day of our December date when we became a couple.

The next day, I got up and I didn't make the plans he didn't like and made me feel bad for nothing. I went with anything he wanted to do. The only thing I did for myself, I wore the yellow dress. Everywhere we went, I felt hollow and worn out from crying so much the previous day.

On the drive for a task at the store, He asked if I wanted to stay the night, I obliged and said I wanted to. He said to me "We can't argue like that anymore, it hurts me too much."

I felt my heart sink as he brought it up. He didn't have to but he did. I still remember the feeling of my face sinking as my heart shattered for the last time. He acted as if he was the only one affected.

We came back with the plans he gaslighted me into saying I didn't want because he never told me he wanted to do it. He looked at my defeated and emotionally exhausted expression as he said, "You look sad."

I couldn't tell him, there was no point. I just said, "I'm tired."

He said to me with an emotionless face, "Well be happy then."

That night felt so empty, he tried to make another show of care to me. But there was no point, everything he said to me just made me sadder because it wasn't love. This wasn't love and it hadn't been for months. I held on to something that hurt me. It was emotional abuse, and it always will be.

In the morning, I gathered my things to go home to my grandfather. I put on my yellow dress. I did my usual ritual on my departures back home. I'd wake him up and say I'm heading back home, and that I would text him when he got home safe and sound. He never opened his eyes and blindly put his arms out. I fell into his embrace and it felt empty. I said how much I loved him, and thanked him for the weekend. That felt emptier to say because of what happened. I felt tears blind my eyes as I lay there in his arms to his morning mumbles telling me to have a good day.

I said, "I want us to be Ok."

He caressed my back to comfort me like the way I begged him to do for me all these months. I raised my head and he kissed me, I could taste the salt on my tears mixed with the kiss. I let him go to get back under the covers of his comforter.

I gathered my purse off the floor and had my car keys in my hand as I went to the door of his bedroom. I looked at him and blew him a kiss and told him, have a good day.

That moment I stood there, I felt like I had an out-of-body experience and saw myself from the outside. I looked at the woman in the yellow dress as she felt destroyed and drained by someone who wasn't supposed to do this to her.

I knew that was it. I knew I was going to stand there at his bedroom door for the last time.

That Yellow Dress has so much significance.

I wore that on the last day I saw him.

I wore that the last time I kissed him.

That image of me in the yellow dress will be his last memory of me.

That day I got home, I sank onto the couch. I couldn't move, I cradled myself under a blanket. I felt my heart swell from the pain at the thought I had for months. The thoughts of "Why doesn't he trust me? How much harder do I have to work? I gave him all my love and I got lies in return."

I took off the yellow dress that became stained from stress. As much as it hurts to know the association that dress was also my armor and the significance that I had the strength to leave him in the days to come.

I wanted so much with this man, he was the first real love of my life. But for my sanity (and my safety) I made the decision to leave him. I texted him that I would not return, I was tired of being hurt and not listened to. He reached out to me immediately and said "No Sami Baby Please."

Every number he got to reach me was blocked. I reclaimed myself despite the damage that had been done to me. A part of me still can't be reclaimed that exists with him. The parts he took from me.

This Yellow Dress lived in my closet. It lives with the other dresses that hold significance to my history with him. The mint green flower dress is still hard to touch and I don't have the strength to wear it for a fresh start yet and that's Ok. The red button skater dress I wore on Valentine's Day with him isn't ready to be worn either and that's Ok. But the yellow dress and I, it survived with me and I can have the strength to wear it.

To prepare for the breakiversary I debated changing that yellow dress to a shirt. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I decided it didn't need the change. It still serves as an important item in the chapter that closed. It just needs to be there even if I barely wear it, I know how important it is. But just knowing this dress exists with be a part of that day I saved myself.

Today is March 8th, 2023...and a year ago today, I saved myself from an abusive relationship with the help of some of my closest friends.


About the Creator

Samantha Parrish

What's something interesting you always wanted to know?

Instagram: parrishpassages

tiktok: themysticalspacewitch

My book Inglorious Ink is now available on Amazon!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.