Ugly. Crazy. Slut. Loser. Cunt. Broken. Bitch. Liar. Unlovable. Whore. These are just a few of the painful labels that plagued my mind the last couple of years. A relentless storm of hurtful words and toxic behavior gradually chipped away at my self-worth, leaving me shattered. Barely did I hear words like “beautiful,” “sweet,” “cute,” “goofball,” “strong,” or “loving” slip from his lips.
I can’t recall a single moment when I felt like the only girl in the world to him. Instead, I remember sitting in front of my mirror, completely naked, criticizing every flaw and insecurity. I circled everything I loathed about myself, drowning in tears that felt as heavy as my heart. That day, he didn’t just break my heart; he shattered the very essence of my being, taking away the love and strength I once held for myself.
In the echo of those harsh words, I found myself asking: Why me? Why did I stay so long? What made him this way? And, perhaps most hauntingly, who would I be without him? These questions weighed on my shoulders, but they lit a path to rediscovering myself and healing. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but it led me to promise to always choose my happiness over damaged love.
The question "Why me?" plagued my mind as I reflected on the depth of my investment in him. I gave my all, offering unwavering support and encouragement. I stood by him through thick and thin, lifting him when he was down and nurturing him during his lowest moments. I prioritized his well-being, often putting his needs ahead of my own. Despite my efforts, I found myself at a loss when faced with the question of why he treated me the way he did.
In moments of hopelessness, I would confront him, tears streaming down my face, begging for an explanation. His response was always the same, an empty apology coupled with self-deprecation. "I don't know, I'm just a terrible boyfriend. I'm sorry, please forgive me. I know you deserve better, but please." His words left me grasping for excuses, trying to rationalize his hurtful actions. "He's had a rough day." "He's dealing with family issues." "He's struggling with his mental health." The excuses piled up like the books in my to-be-read pile, but his behavior remained unchanged.
It became clear that he didn't mistreat me out of malice, but rather out of a twisted sense of power. He knew that I would stay, no matter how poorly he treated me. I had seen his darkest side, knew his innermost secrets, and that knowledge gave him a false sense of control. He wielded his power over me, knowing that his hurtful words would be met with compassion and understanding.
I was blind to the manipulation, too emotionally entangled to break free. It took reaching a point of complete brokenness and emotional detachment for me to gather the courage to walk away. Time would then tell when I would find the strength to break free from his toxic grip.
I had countless opportunities to end that relationship, yet I chose to stay. I stayed for him, clinging to a flicker of hope for change that never materialized. I stayed under the misguided belief that I could fix him, all the while he was slowly dismantling me. I stayed out of fear of loneliness, ashamed of the prospect of being alone. I stayed despite knowing he was unfaithful, betraying my trust time and again. I stayed because I thought every girl was supposed to experience a love like this.
I stayed because amidst the darkness, there were moments when he showed me “love”. I stayed because he was the first person to show interest in me, even if his intentions were twisted. I stayed because he held the key to my innermost secrets, our shared traumas creating a false sense of connection and understanding. I stayed because the wounds of my past mirrored his actions, perpetuating a cycle of emotional turmoil. I stayed, deluding myself into believing that his treatment of me was acceptable, even normal. I stayed because I lacked the strength to walk away, trapped in a toxic cycle of codependency and manipulation.
It took time and introspection for me to realize that staying was not a sign of love or loyalty, but rather a reflection of my own insecurities and vulnerabilities. And it was only when I found the courage to leave that I truly began to heal and reclaim my sense of self-worth.
I can’t completely speak for him or explain why he treated me the way he did, but one thing is clear: he needs therapy. Deep down, he’s dealing with some serious daddy issues—maybe even mommy issues. He carries a heavy load of narcissistic traits, wrapped in insecurity. It’s obvious he doesn’t love himself; instead, he harbors self-hatred and overwhelming doubt. He was never shown how to love or respect a woman without trying to control her.
The pain he inflicted on my mind and body seemed to fuel him, as if he found a twisted satisfaction in it. He was depressed, lost, and instead of facing his own anger and sadness, he reflected it onto me. He knew I wasn’t the one, but he hurt me anyway. And even though we both knew we didn’t belong together, he still couldn’t let me go.
The Avery I knew wasn’t the real Avery—it was the version he wanted me to see, the one who cast me under his manipulative, addictive spell. Slowly, I became the person he shaped me into, not who I truly was. In that relationship, I lost almost 40 pounds, but it wasn’t a healthy transformation. I lost the glow in my face. My smile became hollow, hiding fear, unhappiness, and the facade of "everything’s fine."
I stopped caring for myself, both emotionally and physically. I didn’t feel beautiful around him, so I stopped trying—no makeup, no cute outfits, no confidence. If I did dress up, he’d ridicule me, breaking me down with words disguised as "jokes." He didn’t like when I felt good about myself.
Everything that once made me happy, I let slip away. I stopped reading the books that used to inspire me. I stopped watching sunsets, something that once filled me with peace. My journal, my outlet, started collecting dust. Slowly but surely, I canceled plans with friends—lunch dates, concerts, shopping sprees. Fun and freedom? Gone. Instead, I let him isolate me, siphoning away everything that made me me.
By the end, I was a shadow of who I used to be. I didn’t know how to exist without his toxic influence, without his constant control. I felt empty—like I was standing alone in a void, without any real personality, self-love, or strength left. My friendships had grown weak, my passions had faded, and I was left with confusion, regret, and the overwhelming question: Who am I without him?
I am free. I am happy. For the first time in a long time, I truly love myself—and I love the person I’m becoming. I’m proud of my strength, my resilience, and the fact that I’ve come so far. In place of the 40 pounds I lost in that toxic relationship, I’ve gained something so much more valuable: 40 pounds of confidence, strength, and beauty.
Therapy sessions, those random breakdowns in my car or in my friends’ arms, rediscovering my passion for the gym, diving back into books, and writing my emotions out—these were the stepping stones that led me to rebuild my independence and fall in love with myself again. I learned, through all that pain, what love is and what love is not.
I will never settle for a man like that again, because now I know my worth. Seven months after the breakup, I made promises to myself—promises that, to this day, I still honor. I’ve broken the cycle of losing myself in someone else. My self-respect and self-love have grown so much that I simply won’t allow anyone to tear me down again.
Yes, it’s sad, even unfair, that I had to go through that kind of love. But looking back, I see that dark, toxic relationship as a positive turning point in my life. I’ve grown, I’ve healed, and most importantly, I’ve forgiven myself for staying as long as I did.
If you’re in a relationship where hurtful words are making you question your worth, or if you’ve experienced physical or emotional abuse, or even unwanted sexual behavior, know this: You are strong enough to leave. You are worthy. You are loved beyond measure. You deserve someone who will give you not just the world, but the whole damn galaxy. Never, ever settle for less.
