Why I’m sharing this
Some people ask why I share such personal experiences in public. My answer is simple: because recognition opens healing. Because silence holds pain. And because those who live with the consequences of a toxic relationship often end up doubting their own experience.
I don’t write to accuse, but to understand. Not to be right, but to speak my truth. And because I know: if putting it into words helps me, someone else might recognize something in themselves too.
What is a toxic relationship?
A toxic relationship is one where connection slowly narrows into control, fear, doubt, or self-loss. It’s not always loud or visible — often it’s subtle, internal. The pain doesn’t come from what’s openly said, but from what is constantly denied, flipped, or dismissed.
In my case, there was no physical violence. But there was constant, invisible harm: words turned against me, silences used as punishment, and above all: no regard for my emotional state — only exploitation.
The purpose of emotional manipulation
It felt like everything I gave was turned into leverage against me.
Like trust became a weakness, and love a risk.
This kind of behavior often aims to:
- gain control,
- create confusion,
- and ultimately erode the other’s sense of self.
I kept reaching for connection, while she tightened her grip. And it happened in ways I could only name as manipulation long after.
Forms of abuse I recognized
- Blame-shifting: I was often accused of what she herself was doing or feeling.
- Gaslighting: My perception was denied or mocked.
- Isolation: I was pushed from space to space — the house, the camper, the pool house, the warehouse.
- Silent treatment: Long periods of being ignored, including through the children.
- Manipulation via the children: Creating loyalty conflicts, framing me as unsafe.
- Creating dependence: While accusing me of being dependent.
- Threatening reputation: “If you speak up, everyone will know what you supposedly did.”
What I still feel today
- Confusion about my own truth.
- Questioning whether it really was that bad.
- Lingering guilt, even though I know I couldn’t have changed it.
- Sleep issues, hyper-alertness.
- The sense that something is always about to go wrong.
- Deep exhaustion — not just physical, but soul-deep.
- A longing for peace, and the inability to find it.
- The question: “What if I was wrong? What if she’s right?”
I now realize one of my greatest mistakes was sharing my deepest wounds and insecurities with someone who later used them against me. As if she kept reopening an old wound just to hurt again.
And yet — strangely — that same pain helps me not to go back. It pushes me through. Not just to break, but to break through.
What makes the pain heavier still is how it touches much older wounds. The feeling of being alone doesn’t only come from this relationship. It echoes earlier moments of abandonment, of not being heard, of being left behind.
The silence I feel today is layered: it belongs to now, but it carries the weight of then. That makes it more intense, more personal — and more inescapable
Psychological reflection
Hypervigilance and emotional exhaustion: Living for years in an environment of unpredictability, control, and reversed reality often results in a nervous system that is always on high alert. It shows up as anxiety, sleep problems, and the inability to fully relax. What you’re feeling isn’t overreacting — it’s your body sounding an alarm that something isn’t safe.
Self-doubt and displaced guilt: Toxic dynamics often lead to internalized blame. You start to believe that you are the problem — too sensitive, too emotional — when in truth, these feelings are the natural result of long-term emotional erosion.
Old trauma being reopened: The pain you feel now isn’t isolated. This relationship touched on much deeper wounds — abandonment, silence, invisibility. It doesn’t just hurt you in the present — it awakens hurt that was never given the space to heal before.
The realization she may hurt you without realizing it: One of the hardest truths to carry is knowing that someone may hurt you deeply — not out of hatred, but without even realizing it. That disconnect is confusing, even crushing. You witness her struggle, yet feel the weight of every consequence. Your body reacts, even if her mind denies it. And staying true to what your body feels — that becomes your act of survival.
Spiritual reflection
Boundaries as self-love: In a spiritual sense, setting boundaries is not rejection. It is the simple act of saying: “This far, and no further.” Not from anger, but from care for your own soul’s integrity.
Unconscious harm is still harm: Even if someone doesn’t intend to hurt you, the effect remains. Love without accountability becomes wounding. You don’t have to interpret her intent — but you are allowed to honor your experience.
Loss as a path to clarity: Healing doesn’t always mean reconnection. Sometimes, it means returning to yourself. Grieving what was hoped for. Letting go of what collapsed. That pain is real, but it is also where truth begins to breathe.
“She doesn’t need to understand. You don’t need to convince. What matters now is: what do you feel — and what do you choose to do with it?”
Reflections
Psychological reflection
Hypervigilance and emotional exhaustion: Living for years in an environment of unpredictability, control, and reversed reality often results in a nervous system that is always on high alert. It shows up as anxiety, sleep problems, and the inability to fully relax. What you’re feeling isn’t overreacting — it’s your body sounding an alarm that something isn’t safe.
Self-doubt and displaced guilt: Toxic dynamics often lead to internalized blame. You start to believe that you are the problem — too sensitive, too emotional — when in truth, these feelings are the natural result of long-term emotional erosion.
Old trauma being reopened: The pain you feel now isn’t isolated. This relationship touched on much deeper wounds — abandonment, silence, invisibility. It doesn’t just hurt you in the present — it awakens hurt that was never given the space to heal before.
The realization she may hurt you without realizing it: One of the hardest truths to carry is knowing that someone may hurt you deeply — not out of hatred, but without even realizing it. That disconnect is confusing, even crushing. You witness her struggle, yet feel the weight of every consequence. Your body reacts, even if her mind denies it. And staying true to what your body feels — that becomes your act of survival.
Spiritual reflection
Boundaries as self-love: In a spiritual sense, setting boundaries is not rejection. It is the simple act of saying: “This far, and no further.” Not from anger, but from care for your own soul’s integrity.
Unconscious harm is still harm: Even if someone doesn’t intend to hurt you, the effect remains. Love without accountability becomes wounding. You don’t have to interpret her intent — but you are allowed to honor your experience.
Loss as a path to clarity: Healing doesn’t always mean reconnection. Sometimes, it means returning to yourself. Grieving what was hoped for. Letting go of what collapsed. That pain is real, but it is also where truth begins to breathe.
“She doesn’t need to understand. You don’t need to convince. What matters now is: what do you feel — and what do you choose to do with it?”