Love Unencumbered by Co-Dependency
In order to grow and make progress with my mental health and with my personal relationships, I find myself looking back at my past and do the best I can to not dwell in the overwhelming shame I feel, but instead try and learn from my behavior, so that I donāt make the same mistakes twice- By the way, this is a lot easier said than done, but still something I try to actively incorporate in my decision-making process, especially when it comes to romantic relationships.
My entire life, Iāve loved to be in love. Whether it be romantic love, platonic love, or familial love- I felt and welcomed the all-consuming intensity of my emotions. I look back and realize I was developing obsessive compulsions with each favorite person I had growing up. At the time, it felt so natural and instinctual to lose my sense of self; become dependent on the individual that made me feel the most euphoric highs and absolutely devastating lows. I was addicted to the passion. I would argue, āthis is how love is SUPPOSED to feelā.
It wasnāt until my first real long-term relationship that this obsession, this co-dependency, this excruciating fear of the other person leaving, began to slowly kill me- but I didnāt care. I saw it happening and I allowed it to manifest into what it eventually became.
What started off as a passionate, āthe kind of love you read about in fairytalesā relationship, gradually turned into obsessive, controlling, and frantic behaviors on my part in attempts to avoid being abandoned by my sole reason for being- I was no longer me- I was who he needed me to be. I had to preserve and protect this love. I was no longer an independent entity from my relationship. This love consumed my individuality and eventually became the sole source of my happiness- consuming my every thought. Ā
No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt me, I didnāt care- I was his.
It took him throwing me against a wall and breaking up with me- despite my begging, despite my sobbing, despite my physical and emotional breakdown, for me to finally even attempt to find myself again.
It took me one year. One year of crying every night. One year of reckless, dangerous, and hateful self-destructive behavior. One year of dreaming of the different ways I could kill myself before I could finally detach myself from the pain his absence had conceived.
I eventually found myself in love once again- to my current partner- but this time it had to be different. I wouldnāt allow myself to relinquish that much power and control over my happiness to another human being, ever again.
I still find myself feeling certain pings of jealousy or compulsive urges for control in order to avoid potentially losing him; however, I force myself to not act on these thoughts. I cry and shake out of fear, but I refuse to fall victim to my borderline tendencies once again.
I even find myself missing the intensity of that kind of love- but I remind myself that this longing is only the manifestation of the self-destructive tendencies I had made a home out of. I had learned to feel comfortable destroying myself.
These tendencies, though not the sole cause behind the breakup, were nonetheless instrumental to its demise.
I will not allow my instinctual need for co-dependency- for panicked control- to destroy what I recognize now to be a loving relationship founded on mutual respect, friendship, honesty, and independence.
I have not, and will not, allow my happiness- my sense of self- to be dictated by anyone other than me. Iāve already made the mistake of having once assigned that much power to someone else- and regardless of how well Iāve been able to reconstruct and mend my independence: a part of me will always belong to the man I foolishly surrendered my identity to. I allowed a part of myself to be stolen from me- and because of that, I will never be capable of loving the same way, ever again.
Thatās okay. I never want to endure a love like that ever again because that was not love. That relationship was cancerous- gradually metastasizing my identity. That identity, I now realize, has so much to offer independently.
I will not give someone else the authority to shatter me.
Iām no longer a slave to my fear and fragile self-esteem. Iām learning my worth so that my partner can inherently understand the value I add to his life- without frantically attempting to prove it to him- because Iāve learned to realize Iām worth loving.
Iām a kinder, stronger creature thanks to the man who broke my heart, so for that reason, I want to say thank you for breaking me, so that I could learn how to rebuild myself.
janainaart
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
2087
pixelskylines
vaporwave
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