It Wasn’t a Love Story

Until recently, I started to grasp everything we went through. In an attempt to love you better, to make myself “worthy of your love”, I started to lose myself. I eventually stopped recognizing the woman in the mirror: my eyes were sad, my face tired, my spark was gone.

I convinced myself that it was my fault, that your lack of love and attention was because I was asking for too much. I convinced myself it was my fault when you kicked me, ignored me, saw me broken, crying, hurting, and did nothing. I convinced myself that I deserved all the emotional abuse because I used to call it love and I used to excuse you with your painful childhood. I convinced myself that your promises were true and that this time things would be different… you would be different.

Oh, the times I cried myself to sleep. Oh, the times I thought I was the worst person in the world because I had made you the person you were becoming. Oh, the times I thought to myself that the very same person who broke me to pieces over and over again had the power to fix me with a hug and an “I love you, you are important to me, I’m sorry.” Oh, the times when I held on tight to you when you were feeling like being kind to me and thought to myself “hold on to this moment because it won’t last for long”.

Eventually, I started to think before I spoke. I started to overthink how I acted because I was afraid of pushing you away. I eventually started avoiding sharing what made me uncomfortable, and I started avoiding sharing my weaknesses with you because I felt like I didn’t have the right to be broken in front of you; I couldn’t have a bad day in front of you. I began to just accept the uncomfortable comments and the bad jokes. I eventually was okay with the small signs of affection you gave me when you felt like spending time with me and I felt so fortunate that you were there.

I eventually started to change what I expected in our relationship. You told me I shouldn’t expect flowers from you, so I stopped asking for them. You told me I was too anxious, so I stopped getting close to you when I wasn’t feeling my best. You told me I should seek for consolation somewhere else when there was a death in my family, so I stopped relying on you. You told me I had a selective memory and that I only remembered what benefited me, so I tried to memorize as much as I could. I tried to mold myself into the person you were describing, but it was never enough… and I was never enough and I felt like I would never be.

I couldn’t understand why you would treat me this way while being so good, so generous, so tender with others. I felt so confused. I felt like I was living with a huge wound in my chest, constantly being cut open. I felt like I was chained to you; I truly believed there was no life after us, no happiness after this. What a paradox it is, because I wasn’t happy with you… I was just living in a constant agony and ecstasy of this trauma bond.

I eventually couldn’t handle the pain anymore. I couldn’t continue on my own anymore. I was willing to “forgive and accept” whatever you would throw at me… until I couldn’t. And that is when I started to speak. Sharing what I had gone through with you slowly opened my eyes to a reality that felt like the hardest thing I have done thus far: putting your face in your actions and not your words. Calling things by their name felt so far away from reality and I thought I was “making myself the victim”, but no, not anymore. Because love does not include physical or emotional abuse. Love doesn’t make you feel embarrassed, it doesn’t willingly hurt you. Love doesn’t ignore you and is not indifferent to your pain. Love shouldn’t feel like a constant rollercoaster. Love shouldn’t drain your life and break you over and over and over again. Love doesn’t include empty promises. Love doesn’t manipulate, it isn’t hot and cold. Love doesn’t use you or dismiss you. Love doesn’t leave you empty, broken, and lonely. It just doesn’t.

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And to anyone who has ever been in an abusive relationship: I am so sorry, you are stronger than this and no, you do not deserve to be treated this way. Please ask for help: talk to a therapist, talk to someone close to you who you trust. And no, life doesn’t end after a relationship does. And yes, there is still hope and this too shall pass. Trust me, this is not the end of your story. This does NOT define you. You are resilient, strong, valuable, worthy, special, and unrepeatable. You are important and needed. You were willed into existence since the beginning of the world. You deserve to be loved and cared for. Love does not include any type of abuse. It just doesn’t.

At this moment, I am learning something that feels like a foreign language to me: self love. Because, how can we give something we don’t have? How can I love someone else when I don’t love myself? How can I recognize true love when I don’t let myself be loved by the One who deeply knows and loves me?

Dear friend, what a beautiful thing it is that there is always light after darkness, resurrection after death, day after night, and grace after suffering.

With so much love,
Mari