It might’ve taken a hell of a lot of hard work, time, and dedication, but Hailey Bieber finally got her man.

She got the ring, the status, the life she fought for... but at what cost? Because despite everything, it still seems like there’s a Selena-shaped hole in her heart.

As much as I’d love to say I'm Selena in this situation, I was the girl who was so consumed with winning a man that I fought off anything and anyone who might threaten my place in his life. I spent years convincing myself I wanted him when, in reality, I wanted the version of him he reserved for her.

I didn’t want to be her rival. I wanted to be her. And if I couldn’t be her, I wanted to be close enough that he’d look at me the way he looked at her.

While I was spewing venom about how much I hated her, how she wasn’t me, how she wasn’t enough for him, I was secretly scrolling through her Instagram, not so much to hate, but to admire. I wasn’t picking her apart in private, I was gathering inspiration. The way she dressed, the way she carried herself, the way she moved on and lived a life without him. I told myself I hated her, but deep down I think I was rooting for her. She got out. Meanwhile, I was still trapped, stuck behind the scenes of a story I didn’t even belong in.

In another life, she and I could’ve been friends. In a way, we kind of are now. Not besties, but there’s peace. She even said she felt the same as I did. Thinking I was the one he loved. Wanting to be more like me. Just as I did her. I’ve watched her find a new love, move into a new home, and build a life that looks genuinely happy. She got her ring from someone else. And me? I’m alone. But honestly, I almost deserve to be.

Because she wasn’t the only one I demonised. There were others. Women I despised, convinced they had ruined my life... stolen my “chance” at happiness. It never once crossed my mind that this man was making his own choices. That these women weren’t my enemies. That they barely knew I existed. And if they did? He had already painted me as a nobody.

Do “just friends” sleep in the same bed every night? Hold hands? Kiss? Travel the world together? Say ‘I love you’? I don’t even know anymore. My perception of love is so warped now.

I used to wish those other girls would just disappear. I got a sick satisfaction from seeing them heartbroken when he left. I said horrible things about women I had never even met, all because they had my person.

But as I’ve grown older, I’ve started to understand the deep insecurity that fueled all of it. And I’m ashamed. The guilt I carry for how I treated these women is immeasurable. I wish I could apologise, but they don’t even know me. And even if they did, what could I say?

Hailey spent years waiting for Justin. Resenting Selena for the love he gave her. Wondering why it couldn’t be her. And now she has everything she thought she wanted, but I can’t help but wonder if, deep down, it was never really about him. Maybe she never needed Justin. Maybe what she really wanted was Selena’s life, or at least, to be a part of it.

Meanwhile, I’m still learning how to find myself again.

Here’s something I haven’t said out loud in a long time. I still love him. Not in the hopeless, all-consuming way I used to. But in that painful, quiet way you love someone who knows your every version, every scar, every year of your life for six long years. Letting go of someone like that feels like trying to loosen your grip on the last piece of a burning home. You want to hold on, even when it’s mostly rubble.

But I’m turning 30 soon. And something about that age forces you to look at yourself in the mirror and ask – Is this all you want?

Because fighting for someone who never really fought for you back makes you tired. It chips away at your softness until you can’t recognise your own reflection. Every breadcrumb of attention feels like a meal when you’re starving, but eventually, you realise you're feeding off scraps in a story you can’t relate to anymore.

The truth is, every time he came back, I made myself become nothing again, and I can't keep doing that.

So this is an apology. Not just to the girls I silently resented, but to the girl I used to be. The one who thought love was a competition, who dimmed herself to be chosen, who mistook pain for passion. I wish I had protected her more.

Maybe Hailey didn’t just want Justin. Maybe she wanted to be the girl who got away, the girl with the power to walk. I think I’ve always wanted that too.

I don’t know what comes next. But I do know this.

I’m done chasing something that isn’t mine anymore. I want my life back. My joy. My softness. My peace.

And if that means being alone for a while, so be it. I'd rather be alone than be someone else.

Because I’m not her. And I never will be. And that’s no longer the tragedy I once thought it was.

I think it’s the beginning.