How It Starts

The love was so strong, so pure, so legendary. It always starts off wonderfully; the love, the attention, the gifts flowing from a endless spring. It truly feels like a dream come true, and we wonder how we got so lucky to end up with this person. Magic fills every moment we spend together making us wish to never part.

Then a switch flips and those lovely things slowly comes to a halt. Bit by bit the glory fades away so gradually that we rationalize each departure. “Oh, they must be really busy today, that’s why they haven’t texted.” “Well, they are struggling financially, that’s why they haven’t gotten me anything.” “They are really stressed right now so they can’t give me that attention.”

Then they come home are give you a giant hug, whispering in your ear how much they missed you. Randomly they’ll surprise you by making dinner, or taking you on a date. Suddenly you are the center or the universe again. Until tomorrow that is. They then have a terrible day and feel they deserve your sympathy, which you happily give. After all, they need you and that feels good.

How did we get here?

The rationalizations make us feel better in the moment, but they are a slippery slope. Every one we make paves the way for the next one. But we feel good, they give us reassurance that we are good, loving, and forgiving people. And they sooth our racing minds that are screaming, “something isn’t right!”

In time it feels like a ride at the carnival, one that swings sharply from one side to the direct opposite. The good times get fewer, and the bad ones increase until we are just relieved to experience the neutral times. We’ve withdrawn into a protective shell frantically scanning their face for clues about the type of experience we can expect.

We are now their champion, acting as their sounding board, their bomb squad, and their emotional support team. Being fixated on solving their problems and navigating their emotional mine fields prevents us from feeling ourselves. Our needs pale in comparison. We lose our voice, and shelve our desires. Before we know it we don’t know who we are, what we like, or have original thoughts.

Who Am I?

At some point we all wake up and realize that we are just a shell of a person. We may, or may not, be experiencing some form of abuse. Regardless, we are not happy. We are not living, we are existing. Trying to string enough good times together to not feel like a complete failure in relationships. We look back at the beginning of our relationships and our hearts grieve for what was.

In spite of all the unhappiness we struggle with the thought of leaving. After all, we’ve seen how good it could be. We live in the memory of the good times, trying desperately to will them into the present. Perhaps we feel like we are the reason it doesn’t work anymore. Maybe we are bound in chains of responsibility to the wellbeing of our person. Most likely we are either married to or living with them.

Even with these ties to the relationship a part of our being starts to push to leave. The tennis match between staying and leaving begins in our hearts and minds. Slowly, we disconnect from our partner. The good times no longer fill us with hope. The bad times no longer sink us beneath their weight.

We start to rediscover ourselves again. Those of us who are lucky enough to be able to leave, begin. The battle over staying and leaving slowly quiets to a tug-of-war match. It’s not an easy choice, although you’d think it would be. There’s so much time, love, and pieces of our soul invested that leaving feels scarier than staying. Even knowing that we are not happy and/or being abused sometimes isn’t enough to cause us to break free.

Walking Away

One of the upsides of disconnecting from our person is being able to invest that energy in ourselves. Turning that focus to ourselves begins our healing process. This process is what ultimately gives us the strength to walk away. By giving ourselves that love, attention, and empathy we heal.

Not everyone is in a position to physically leave, but they can still heal themselves and live better lives. Sometimes walking away is simply not giving more than we receive. It is learning techniques, like grey rock and disassociation, to disengage. Walking away can look like choosing ourselves, reconnecting with old friends, and rebuilding a social life outside of the relationship.

Whether you stay or go, you must start healing and rebuilding your life. It’s time to love yourself again!