Inside My Toxic Relationship: A True Story of Pain, Patterns, and Awakening

Feeling lost, alone, confused, uncertain, sad, mad—or maybe not even knowing what you're feeling at all?

We’ve all had our hearts broken in one way or another. Whether it's a romantic relationship, a friendship, a parent, or a sibling—we've all experienced deep emotional pain from leaving someone who once meant a lot to us.

You're not alone in the pain that comes with loss.

We each have our own story, but the feelings? They live in all of us. In our bodies, in our hearts, in our minds, and in our soul.

Today I want to share part of my story. A story about a toxic romantic relationship that was horrifying at times, yet became a perfectly imperfect part of my journey. It led me to where I am now.

My mind would spiral with thoughts like, "Maybe I should've tried harder," or "Why did they act like that? Wasn't love supposed to be enough?" But the one that hurt the most was the quiet fear that whispered, "What if I never find real love?"

I fought so hard for that relationship. I believed it had to work. I didn’t want to start over. I had invested so much. His family loved me. We had made plans for future trips, even years down the road.

Letting go felt like giving up on all of that. The dreams felt bigger than the pain.

I remember being at work with tears in my eyes, praying no one would notice.

I was scared of yet another failed relationship. He had a way of saying the right thing at the right time especially when I was most vulnerable.

I carried guilt, shame, and feelings of unworthiness that made it easy to stay.

Looking back now, I realize I was terrified of feeling the full weight of the loss.

I had NO tools to process it. So I kept going back.

Yes, there were good times. But like most relationships, the beginning was beautiful the butterflies, the future plans, the feeling of being chosen. But over time, the cracks began to show. Little comments that chipped away at my self-esteem. Subtle shifts in behavior that made me question myself.

I grew up around fighting. My parents argued often. It was loud, intense, and hurtful. So maybe a part of me believed that was normal. Maybe that was my blueprint for love.

The arguments in my relationship became daily. Words started getting twisted. I began to doubt my own memory. I changed my behavior to avoid conflict. I walked on eggshells. I wanted to make him happy, even if it meant abandoning parts of myself.

He had trauma. He shared stories that broke my heart. And I had empathy. I thought maybe if I just loved him more, I could help him. I could show him what real love looked like. But the truth was, I didn’t know what real love looked like either. Not yet.

Eventually, the name-calling escalated. The emotional abuse became louder. I started to fight back because I didn’t know how else to survive it. We broke up and got back together again and again, clinging to the hope that things could get better. That he could change. That I could be enough.

But each time, it got worse. More controlling. More manipulation. More pain. He began isolating me, questioning who I talked to, what I wore, and where I went. At some point, the threats turned physical. I said things I regret, too. It became a toxic loop of shame, guilt, and fear.

There were moments when things seemed good again, even great. But when it was bad, it was devastating. And that contrast created so much confusion. I kept chasing the high of the good moments, ignoring the severity of the bad.

It wasn’t until the cops were called and everything in our home was destroyed that I finally left. That was my breaking point. It took everything to walk away.

For years after, I blamed myself. I questioned how I stayed so long. Why didn’t I leave sooner? Why didn’t I see the signs? But healing taught me this: I stayed because I was doing the best I could with what I knew at the time.

Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you're still in it. If that’s you, I want you to know: you are not alone.

I share my story not to dwell in the past, but to offer a light to anyone walking through something similar. I want you to know there is healing. There is a way through.

It starts with the relationship you have with yourself.

I had to forgive myself for the pain, the shame, the guilt, and the years I spent abandoning myself. I had to learn how to love the broken parts. It hasn’t been easy. It’s a process. But I promise you, it’s worth it.

No one can love you the way you can love yourself. When you heal your relationship with yourself, everyone around you benefits.

Your healing is not a burden, it’s a gift.

And it’s never too late to begin!