You're not a bad person. You're just an Asshole.

God, how I wish I had the chance to stand across from some of my Exes, look them square in the eye, and place my hand on their shoulder while saying (with a slight condescension), "You're not a bad person. You're just an Asshole".

I bet that would feel really good.

How many times did I excuse their bad behaviour because deep deep down, I knew they were a good person? Too many. And I'm not going to do it anymore. Sure, deep deep down there is a grain of hope in all of us -- bad apples or not. It's what God planted in us to help us trek through the muck of life; but it doesn't mean that everyone is necessarily in touch with their good side.

How many times did I tell myself, he didn't mean it, or he's just having a bad day/is stressed/has a lot on his mind/going through something/not feeling well/needs space; etc.

All these polite excuses to justify the fact that his behaviour was not cool. So yeah, are you a bad person? Probably not. An Asshole? Absolutely.

Like the guy that invited me on vacation and then told me after I got there that he didn't have any money. He left it to me to absorb the financial costs for everything. You mister are a Jerk!

Or the guy that dumped me three days before my birthday, and then threw a big house party the next day. You're a Prick and I hope you have a lifetime of sexual dysfunction.

There's the guy that was controlling; may he have horrendous herpes outbreaks during every sentimental/romantic occasion with someone he truly loves.

Or the one that chased after me for a year, befriended me, and then proceeded to cheat on me so he would look cool to his friends. May you have a suicidal bipolar wife and children that hate you!

May all their lives be a festering mess of chaos and despair!

I wonder if Jennifer Aniston has gotten to the point where she can look back and appreciate Angelina Jolie? I mean really appreciate her. Sure it completely sucked to have to hear rumours that your then-husband was having a bit too much fun on set. Sure, it was awful to have to second-guess yourself when Angie called the house incessantly and Brad insisted they were only friends. That must have been awful. Having gone through it myself, I know how that feels.

One day everything is fine, and then out-of-the-blue (well, not really -- the signs were there but you made excuses for them) a narcissistic sociopath starts calling your man incessantly. At first, because he is such a good person, you make excuses for it and even restrain from complaining because you don't want to be overbearing. But, eventually, it gets so bad and so frequent that you have no choice but to acknowledge this bad behaviour and confront it; only to be told that you're overreacting. And while you fantasize about killing him in his sleep, your relationship unravels until one day he has asked for a 'time out'; and you are left looking at the photo of him and his new lady on the cover of GQ.

Yes, Jennifer, I get it. I really get it. It sucks. But after you go through that, I wonder, did you start to appreciate her?

It took me a while to start to appreciate my own Angelina Jolies. At first, I would compare myself to them. Use them as a mirror and pick apart all my imperfections. But then, after having so many of them come into my life, I started to have a different perspective. I started to welcome the Angelina Jolies. I looked to them as a blessing -- not a curse.

Here's the thing. Sometimes we fall for the wrong person. But, because we love them, we let the bad behaviour (the behaviour that rots away the very essence of who we are) slip. And then, by some miracle, Angelina Jolie shows up. And, like the carnal creature lacking any pure substance or moral integrity -- he takes the bait every time. As they sail off into the sunset you are left no choice but to reflect (alone) on what just happened.

But here's the good news: because you were in so deep -- it would take an Angelina Jolie to remove the cancerous relationship you were in. Angelina Jolie's are like chemo: they hurt like hell and make you vomit -- but they do remove the junk.

So now I love my Angelina Jolies. Because they are a beacon for the true integrity of the guy I'm seeing. If he's really for me -- he'd tip his hat at her and wish her a good day as he passes her on the street. A guy who leaves me for an Angelina Jolie is not and never could be the guy for me. He has no dedication to our relationship. He's fickle. He lacks self-control.

The other thing that's great about an Angelina Jolie is that they really aren't particular. They have little to no standards when it comes to morals and values -- they sieve out the junk. God, I love them! Married with two kids? No problem! Can't keep out of debt if his life depended on it? Even better! It's like God created Angelina Jolies to release the hapless naive romantics (like myself) from a life of misery. Angelina Jolies create a new alternative to something better: the chance to get with a guy who really appreciates you.

So, in addition to telling off some of my exes, I wish I could go back and celebrate my Angelina Jolies. I want to hug them and tell them how much I appreciate them. Like the time I had just started dating someone seriously and had suspicions he was seeing someone else. As he explained to me that I was overreacting; something caught his eye and he looked petrified. It happened in a split second - but I noticed it. When women are being betrayed our powers of observation are astute. I turned around, and there she was: poor pathetic Angelina Jolie hiding in the bushes a few yards from us -- watching our every move. At that moment I wish I had walked over to her, brushed her off, handed her pathetic ass over to him, and rid myself of the next few months of misery. But I didn't appreciate my Angelina Jolies then like I do now.

Now I know, unequivocally, to embrace them -- encourage them. For their very presence means that something and someone better for me is yet to come.