The Problem Wasn’t Him, It Was Me

“..but I loved him”. That’s what I told my mother as I curled up on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor after coming clean about all of the hells that man dragged me through. Her hands cradled my face, lifting my gaze to meet hers, interrupting my sobs with “..but what do you love about a man that empties you and makes you feel such terrible things so often? How can you convince yourself, and me, and the world that this is love”?

The problem wasn’t him, it was me.

That was my wake-up call. I had to get all the way real with myself and question why the hell I kept trying so hard for a man that made it so obvious with his actions, that he didn’t want me? In doing so, I realised that the problem wasn’t him, it was me. I tried to change, cutting away pieces of myself to fit him. I held my tongue more, I tried to be prettier, softer, less volatile, less awake. I made excuses for his actions and apologised when HE HURT ME. In all my suffering, I had become both the victim and the abuser in this self-destructive chaos that I had romanticised as unrequited love.

I allowed him to hurt me

I could pick apart our relationship and point fingers all day long but when push comes to shove, and it often did.. I stayed. I ALLOWED him to hurt me every time i crawled into the corner of a room letting his words rain down on me like thunder. I ENCOURAGED him to take his rage out on me every time i stayed silent and still praying for the storm to pass. I ENABLED his sick need for power every time i settled on playing the part of the victim. I ACCEPTED his poor excuse for love in continuing to treat that man like a god.

I broke my own heart showing love and loyalty to an undeserving man

I set the standard in which that man would treat me the very first time he showed me disrespect and i did not correct him. There were many times in which i should have run without a second thought or a glance back. “..but i loved him” without cause and without caution, i broke my own heart showing love and loyalty to an undeserving man whilst going without those things myself.

The problem wasn’t him, it was me.