#insecure partner

It’s strange how you can lose yourself in someone else—how obsession and fixation creep in so quietly you barely notice until it’s too late.

I’ve been in that place.

I lived in that place.

And I’m finally clawing my way out.

⸻

The Illusion of “Us”

We thought we were in love—two people thrown together by chaos, childhood wounds, and trauma that mirrored each other. But in hindsight, I see it now: it wasn’t love. It was a hypersexualized fantasy, a trauma bond, a reflection of pain disguised as passion. We weren’t actually into each other—we were into the idea of each other. The fantasy we built in our heads because we were both so broken and desperate for connection, for a home, for safety.

I hate that I let myself get caught up in it. I hate that he became infatuated with my sparkle—the light I’ve worked so hard to protect. He told me once he was jealous I could articulate my thoughts so easily, that I was a great writer. It was as if he wanted to absorb my energy, my creativity, because he couldn’t find his own words. But that’s not my job. That’s not love. That’s codependency.

100 Things I Like & Dislike

One of the first steps I took in finding myself again was writing a list of 100 things I like and dislike. It was harder than I thought it would be. I realized how much of my life had been about us—or rather, about him. I’d lost touch with what I liked, what made me happy, what felt good to me.

That list became my blueprint for healing. It showed me what I’d been missing all along—myself.

Honesty and Boundaries

For so long, I was afraid to be honest. I didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to rock the boat, didn’t want to admit that I was suffocating under the weight of expectations, trauma, and guilt. But honesty is freedom. And the truth is, I’m learning that I was never meant to be his savior, his muse, his everything.

I used to be hyper-independent—the girl who did her own thing, who wasn’t glued to her phone, who crafted, wrote, podcasted, and created on her own terms. Somewhere along the line, I lost that version of myself. But I’m finding her again.

Boundaries aren’t selfish—they’re survival. They’re how I keep my sparkle safe.

Breaking the Cycle

This isn’t about blame or shaming anyone. It’s about breaking the cycle. It’s about acknowledging the patterns that kept me trapped:

• The obsession

• The fixation

• The fantasy

• The codependency

It’s about naming the feelings, even when they’re messy. It’s about being honest: I wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with the idea of what we could be, the peer pressures, the sneaking around, but never were. And that’s okay. It’s okay to let go of the fantasy and step into the reality, even when it’s painful.

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Reclaiming My Life

I’m writing again. Soon, i will be creating again. I’m slowly rebuilding the habits that make me feel alive—podcasting, writing, creating, spending time with myself. I’m re-learning my likes, dislikes, my quirks, and my dreams.

I’m not fully healed yet, but I’m healing. I’m not fully whole yet, but I’m getting there.

All I want is to be loved without begging.

To be seen — not just watched, but understood.

Most days, I feel 4% out of 10. Like a loading screen stuck buffering,

waiting for someone to notice the glitch… but no one ever really does.

Being with an insecure partner is like holding a mirror that only reflects cracks.

My father, before he passed, told me:

“Never be with an insecure man.

Don’t let him break you.”

I am so sorry I failed you, Dad.

;

I should’ve listened.

I should’ve known.

But how did I let one swoon me?

He had no job.

Semi-homeless.

A wanderer between his parents’ house and his sister’s couch.

Entangled in the wreckage of his own past,

hurting the women he once called “his” —

and now hurting me in the same script,

just a different face in his ongoing rerun.

His family has heard this story before.

“We’ve seen this before.”

“We’ve heard it all.”

And now I hear the saddest words of all:

“It’s okay to move on.”

“Run.”

Hope…

That’s the most seductive addiction of all.

I don’t want money or a mansion —

just reassurance that you’ll be there.

But when I ask for closeness, you pull away.

When I ask for warmth, you throw cold words.

When I want to be held,

you label me needy —

as if asking for love is something to be ashamed of.

Why is it so hard to say:

“I’ll be there.”

Why must everything be a fight before bed,

as if peace only belongs to the daylight,

and night is for sabotage?

I love you.

I care for you.

I really do.

But I’m starting to see that my love

— no matter how full, how selfless, how patient —

can’t fix a man who refuses to hold his own mirror.

You don’t need saving.

But I’ve been bleeding trying to be your bandaid.

Why do I waste time on someone I can’t see a real future with,

except when night falls,

and everything is temporarily quiet?

But even then — even then —

it’s fragile.

I want to sleep peacefully in your arms

without being made to feel guilty for needing touch.

I want to remember that one night we did,

and it felt safe.

But you ruined even that —

sabotaged the memory.

Sabotaged us.

Sabotaged your happiness and mine, like it’s a habit.

I’m tired.

Not just emotionally.

Physically.

Spiritually.

I wake up with headaches and go to bed with heartaches.

I’ve lost so much of myself trying to hold us both up.

Time I could have spent healing.

Growing.

Building the life I know I’m meant to live.

Still — I’d be lying if I said I’ve only lost.

Because I also laughed with you.

Felt seen.

Unmasked.

Maybe for the first time.

I don’t understand why love shows up in such confusing clothes.

Is it a test?

Is he my test?

Because relationships will test you —

but what if the lesson is to walk away from the test altogether?

Am I waiting on a version of him that doesn’t exist,

or just hasn’t emerged yet?

And if I’m still lighting the flame

only for him to blow it out every time…

then maybe he’s not just dulling his sparkle.

Maybe he’s taking mine, too.

And that?

That’s the part that breaks me.

Because I didn’t come here to be dimmed.

I came here to burn bright.

To love loud.

To be held fully — not just when it’s convenient,

but when it’s hard,

when I’m scared,

5 Ways to Deal With an Insecure Partner

5 Ways to Banish Relationship Insecurity Forever

5 Ways to Banish Relationship Insecurity Forever

By Rick Wallace

There are several things that can throw a monkey wrench in an otherwise great relationship, and displaying signs of insecurity is one of them. Not only is insecurity extremely frustrating, but is an unattractive character trait that often causes nice people to do things that are outside of their true character.

Normally…