Flashback: April 30, 2020

I don't recall ever being a person feeling fully in love. It's an emotion that was rarely seen in the place other families may have called home. I wasn't a child that said, "I love you" to my parents first to receive the affirmation. I don't think I ever remembered asking if they did either.

Many nights, I overheard combative conversations between my parents. Given their unforgiving insults and empty apologies, I guess it would be difficult to feel the love in sacred places like home.

If you don't feel love at home, how do you know love exists?

For many years, I sought to find the answer to these questions in beds with boys that weren't yet men to understanding what I desired. When love was mentioned, you could've sworn their facial expressions indicated they were passing a kidney stone. They weren't passing a kidney stone. They passed on getting to know me because their intentions weren't to love me.

I didn't understand how to love myself.

This is where my life because "emotionally tricky"...

As I healed from one fractured relationship, I found myself in a new one within a matter of days. Sometimes, a matter of a few weeks should I be unsuccessful in new prospects. Though some may find it disturbing to having numerous sleeping partners, it was just THAT for me. These boys I entertained knew I didn't desire a sexual relationship. I just wanted someone to confide in, feel protected, and allow me to figure who I was.

Years later, I figured I met that guy.

He seemed easy to open up to and get to know. I felt warm when I converse with him, when he came over with flowers, or when he opened my car door. Though these are gestures that should be expected, I didn't know any better. Someone finally treating me how I wanted to feel was a new high for me. At that point in my life, I haven't experienced someone I felt only had eyes for nor made me feel like I exist.

He saw a lot in me that I had to learn; like protecting and loving myself.

Two weeks into the relationship, I regretted my decision. He was controlling, manipulative, deceitful, and above all, narcissistic.

He came dressed with the physical appeal I desired, but he came with a baggage of lessons. As grounded and well-rounded as I was with my morals, I owe it to my morals I didn't cave on many ungodly things he attempted to traffick me to do.

Domestic violence is never okay.

The other day, I was cleaning out my journal box.

I came across a journal entry that reminded me of why I'm glad I was about to terminate the abusive relationship - I wanted out so badly.

I wanted to find myself again and start over. So I packed up my life and moved to a new location. I changed my phone number. I attended self-defense classes, you name it, you did it. I did all the overthinking any domestic violence survivor will do to be prepared.

As much as he tried to hoover, begged, and attempted to manipulate me, I didn't fold.

I wanted to share my journal entry I wrote on April 30, 2020.

I don't understand why he's trying to come back around. Just as I begin to move on from this season with little worry or thought, here he comes.

I'm glad I moved and changed.

Even if I stayed where I use to live, no matter if I kept the same number, the numb feeling in my heart lets me know I won't feel the same.

I'm looking forward to the day my feelings totally dissolve. I can't make him love me and I can't love him any more than I love myself.

So he's going to add us to his list of regrets. I'll add him to my list of lessons learned - self-love and boundaries....

Have you experienced a relationship such as this?

How did you overcome it?

What advice would you give other fellow survivors?

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