I've had my fair-share of relationships. I have left many, and I have been left by many. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Many? God damn, how many is many?
My very first real relationship was in middle school. I was dating this guy for almost two years. I thought I was head-over-heels for him – so typical of me. I really thought we were going to be middle school sweethearts. However, things went left and my whole life fell apart (not really, but that's what it felt like at the time).
Now, if you’re wondering – I am the one who called off the relationship. Weird, right? Because I’m the reason why it felt like my whole life was falling apart.
Anyway, I got bored. I realized I wasn’t happy or intrigued anymore. There was no excitement. It literally felt like something was missing. The flame died out. I’m sure you get what I mean.
I just wanted something new, something fresh. So, I decided to call of the relationship and live the single life. You know – be free, talk to whomever I want, date whoever I want, explore new relationships, etc.
It wasn’t until high school that I started realizing that I was literally jumping from relationship to relationship. I never (ever) gave myself time. Every time I left someone (or someone left me), I would always try to fill that void with someone else.
I started to wonder why I couldn’t just enjoy being single, and having time to myself? Why did I always have to go and find someone else to share my time and energy with?
I kept asking myself these questions, but I never took the time to answer them or act on them.
Fast forward to 2015.
I got into another relationship while my previous relationship was on hold. However, this relationship was not like the others. This was the type of relationship that gave you life, but sucked life right out of you. It’s still hard to talk about it because this relationship literally changed my life.
I was abused. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Abused.
I never, in a million years, would have thought I’d be the girl who did not love herself enough to walk away. I stayed, even when I knew it wasn’t good for me. I felt like if I left, if I gave up - I was weak. If I couldn’t handle love, I didn’t deserve love.
I thought this is what love is all about. Sticking together through thick and thin. For better or for worse.
It took me a while to realize that this was not love. This was hell.
So, one day while he was at work – I packed my things and left. I moved to another city, and decided to never look back.
It was then that I finally realized what I was missing.
I did not love myself enough to know that I did not need any man to make me feel beautiful. I did not need a man to make me feel confident. I did not need a man to succeed in life. I did not need a man to love or care for me. I did not need a man at all.
I needed me.