I had been dating Vanessa for almost two years. We talked about marriage, our future, and even having kids together. I genuinely believed she was the woman I would spend my life with. One Friday night, she came to my apartment to spend the weekend. While we were cuddling in bed, I noticed fresh ink on her upper thigh. “Baby, what’s that?” I asked. She tried covering it, but I insisted on seeing it. When she finally showed me, my heart dropped. It was her ex-boyfriend’s name. “Vanessa, are you serious right now? You tattooed another man’s name on your body while dating me?” She rolled her eyes and said, “It’s just a tattoo. Stop making it a big deal.” I asked her why she did it. Her response destroyed me. “Marcus was my first real love. I wanted to remember what we had.” I asked her, “And what about what we have? Does our relationship mean nothing to you?” She insisted it was her body and she could do whatever she wanted. I agreed, but I couldn’t understand why she needed her ex’s name permanently on her thigh while planning a future with me. The next morning, I asked if she was still in love with him.