My dysfunctional relationship made me stronger

I had never felt such a strong pull to someone, an attraction so strong it was impossible to deflect, until I met him. His personality echoed mine, before I began my journey with depression – outgoing, humorous, a genuinely happy soul. I was drawn to him as anyone would be drawn to someone who mirrored their better self. But I quickly learned that this “happiness” was a façade, and that the person that was truly there was not someone I wanted to get to know.

An innocent set-up by a friend quickly turned from a social hook-up to a serious commitment. At the time I met him, I was struggling with my identity, latching onto any interaction that gave me some sense of stability. This behavior was incredibly damaging, causing me to identify who I was, with whom I was with at the time.

Being tied to someone created the feeling that I was solid with who I was, because if someone knew me well enough to make a commitment to me, then I had to know myself. Our commitment came quickly, initiated by me, as I could not emotionally handle the idea of someone I cared for being with anyone other than me. And in the greater scheme of things, that is not an unreasonable request.

At first, he seemed to love the idea of being together, showering me with attention and continuous compliments. He stated over and over again that he hadn’t wanted a relationship in college, but that I had changed his mind – I was different. And who doesn’t want to be different, the special one like no else before? I now realize that I wasn’t different, I was just naïve.

The honeymoon phase came as swiftly as it left, and then alcohol came into the equation. Suddenly, our activities were not simple anymore, they were thoroughly thought out plans by him that always included a drink, and another, and another.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

“Well I do.”

Silence.

That was the routine. Anytime that I wanted to talk about something more serious, he knew and brought out the bottle just in time to keep me quiet.

After we went on Thanksgiving break, and the only communication I had with him was a miscellaneous text here and there, and a belligerently drunk phone call from his end, I knew that a conversation needed to be had. I needed to hold myself to a higher standard.

I’ve always considered myself to be a very strong woman, but in this situation, my strength was no match for his manipulation.

So the conversation turned out to be a statement by him that continues to echo in my mind: “I have priorities in my life, and you’re not one of them.”

If I wasn’t a priority, what spot did I fill in his life?

My attempts to walk away failed one by one. We would get back together, fight, break up, get back together. It was a toxic cycle that consumed my life and my emotional health. Every time I tried to express my feelings, I was talked down to for even having those feelings.

He strategically used the words, “But I love you,” to counter any attempt of mine to separate. Every issue I brought up about us ended in a statement from him that started with, “Well it’s not so easy being with you, Clarity.”

Then, infidelity emerged and destroyed my sanity. It shattered everything I thought I knew about love. That’s what I labeled this. Love.

While I screamed and cried and poured my heart out, he sat in silence giving me disapproving looks as if I were a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. “You’re making this up. That isn’t true, Clarity.” All of a sudden he turned my feelings into lies, throwing the blame towards me, as if I were the instigator in all our conflicts because I felt that I deserved more.

I was suddenly degraded to an object in his life that he didn’t even want. I was forced to prove myself to him time and time again – forced to prove that I was “special” enough to warrant his continued affections.

But I felt an obligation to him that I couldn’t resist. I could feel that in some way he was hurting, for a reason unknown to me. I validated his feelings, while discounting my own.

And so I stayed. I was told by those around me that you had to work for love, that it isn’t easy.  No one truly saw how this relationship was affecting me. I was crying myself to sleep each and every night, lashing out for no reason, unable to focus on what should have been simple, everyday tasks. I was trading my mental and emotional health for this false perception of love.

This continued for six months. I slowly drifted further and further away from the person I once was. I was consumed by the thought of him with someone else. The feeling of security was long gone, and I had never felt more displaced than I did when I was with him.

I then came to a breaking point. That point of realization of what I had become – an obsessed, depressed shell of what I used to be, devoid of joy and the love I so incessantly chased. I blocked myself from having any contact with him. His number was erased from my phone, along with any trace of him on social media.

I wish I could say that I had some overwhelming revelation where I realized that I deserved better, but I didn’t. I just knew that if I went on with this, I would lose myself completely.

My recovery from this bad relationship was not even close to a post-romance empowering montage. It was the opposite. I continued to struggle with my emotions, feeling great one minute and completely distraught the next.

It’s incredibly difficult to trust men anymore. I struggle to fight the urge to cut off communication with anyone who attempts to get close to me. But if I succumb to these urges and fears, then he has beaten me, and I know I am stronger than that.

The sadness of loving someone who did not love me back is not gone. I wish that I had not sacrificed my sense of self for the prospect of love.

This relationship didn’t change me — it reminded me of who I was in the first place. All the lessons I had been taught – stay true to myself, never settle, demand respect – had been lost in my quest to find a partner. I, an incredibly strong woman, relinquished my power in what I thought was a trade off for love.

The warning that I wish to issue, is that any woman, no matter her disposition, can get sucked into a dysfunctional relationship before she even realizes what is going on.

A truly loving man would never ask a woman to be less than she is, but would love her for everything she is, and everything she aspires to be. If a man isn’t up to your standards – run as fast as you can – because there’s no place for you to go but down.

But now for the first time since the breakup, I finally feel as though my smile is genuine again.