How the Hell Did I Find Myself in a Toxic Relationship?

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1916

Abstract

n, to own my deepest wishes for the future, … in a word, to put myself in a vulnerable position again.</b> Among other things, I had previously sworn to myself that I would never, ever be in a long-distance relationship again in my life. But Mr. I-make-your-heart-sing-again seemed to be worth it.</p><p id="c191">After some transient complications, we started seeing each other regularly. Long-distance. All sorts of travels across Europe. Weekends, long weekends, holidays. Both of us so clearly, madly in love. Pink glasses on. Lots of messaging while we were distant: sweetness, irony, a cascade of emoji.</p><p id="6f10">He was so cute. He was the first man in my life who felt like was <i>really</i> able to commit to me, and before I even started the conversation of “So, what are we” someday he casually referred to me as his girlfriend (my reaction was very funny: “really? Am I?”), and of course, he later was the one that said I love you first, and quite early on.</p><p id="65af"><b>Things were proceeding surprisingly fast, which possibly disoriented me a bit, but mainly, and truly, I was happy. We seemed like we were fully compatible, and that we did want the same things in life.</b></p><p id="9025">For example, we both wanted a family in a relatively short time (and we managed to talk about that quite early on), because we were both feeling like we were about to get too old for that. And we both wanted adventures, travels. It was exciting. I was proud of myself. I was following my instincts, I was over with being paralyzed by fear.</p><p id="01ca">And I was being rewarded.</p><figure id="3a63"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*U5PBtKGIo5QrkxZQMRHF6w.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@jeztimms?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Jez Timms</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/images/feelings/l

Options

ove?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="d71a">Sure, there had been times, at the very beginning, when I noticed his personality and manners were in some moments, during random conversations, making me feel slightly agitated — an inexplicable sense of unrest — , and sure I found it weird that so many things (like the fact we were together) were taken for granted without the need to discuss them. But those downsides seemed extremely minor, and I didn’t think to enumerate them in the list of my gut instincts too, which I was actually quickly learning to silence once again.</p><p id="39a7">After all, my mind was taken by something more important. I was out to get my dream, now that I finally knew what my dream was. I was feeling a sense of direction for the first time in many, many years. And I was finally building the relationship I previously even didn’t dare dream about.</p><p id="0eaa">I was busy getting showered by love, and I was getting closer, day by day, to that perfect picture of my future, beautiful, international family.</p><p id="ce07">Read the continuation of my story here:</p><div id="cd5a" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/how-the-hell-did-i-find-myself-in-a-toxic-relationship-part-3-c5f6d96c3c63"> <div> <div> <h2>How the hell did I find myself in a toxic relationship? /part 3</h2> <div><h3>I can still feel his arms, strongly tight around my body in that small museum we visited together at the beginning of…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*G5mipy5uF9E69_rz)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Part 2

It all started two years ago when I realized that the not-fully committed relationship I was in was surely able to protect me from the dangers of falling head over heels for someone I really liked and that I could really see a future with, with all the possible heartbreak that follows, but wasn’t very helpful at making me feel satisfied with my life, nor at giving me a sense of direction.

In a few words, I realized that because of the fear of suffering (which I had in turn inherited from some previous, very painful, experience… material for a different story, maybe), I was fooling myself and keeping myself from living my best life. Also, by that time I had finally worked within myself that, yes, I did want a stable committed relationship AND a family, and yes, that meant I needed to have children in the next couple of years.

[I was 35. The statistics looked scary.]

I knew that the only person I could see in this way at that time (as someone I could fall for) was a guy I had a crush on for all the last year, even if he had previously left the country I live in to go back to his own country, and we hadn’t seen each other in person for many months.

Of course, I could just have waited a bit more and see if something new was coming on the horizon. But the fact I didn’t tell him about my feelings the previous year mainly because I was scared of trusting my gut and what that would have entailed, and the fact he was just about to visit his friends (and me) in my city seemed like signs that I needed to try.

I needed to speak. I needed to tell my truth.

So my toxic relationship started as a very honorable and brave attempt to follow my gut, to trust my desires again, to own my deepest wishes for the future, … in a word, to put myself in a vulnerable position again. Among other things, I had previously sworn to myself that I would never, ever be in a long-distance relationship again in my life. But Mr. I-make-your-heart-sing-again seemed to be worth it.

After some transient complications, we started seeing each other regularly. Long-distance. All sorts of travels across Europe. Weekends, long weekends, holidays. Both of us so clearly, madly in love. Pink glasses on. Lots of messaging while we were distant: sweetness, irony, a cascade of emoji.

He was so cute. He was the first man in my life who felt like was really able to commit to me, and before I even started the conversation of “So, what are we” someday he casually referred to me as his girlfriend (my reaction was very funny: “really? Am I?”), and of course, he later was the one that said I love you first, and quite early on.

Things were proceeding surprisingly fast, which possibly disoriented me a bit, but mainly, and truly, I was happy. We seemed like we were fully compatible, and that we did want the same things in life.

For example, we both wanted a family in a relatively short time (and we managed to talk about that quite early on), because we were both feeling like we were about to get too old for that. And we both wanted adventures, travels. It was exciting. I was proud of myself. I was following my instincts, I was over with being paralyzed by fear.

And I was being rewarded.

Sure, there had been times, at the very beginning, when I noticed his personality and manners were in some moments, during random conversations, making me feel slightly agitated — an inexplicable sense of unrest — , and sure I found it weird that so many things (like the fact we were together) were taken for granted without the need to discuss them. But those downsides seemed extremely minor, and I didn’t think to enumerate them in the list of my gut instincts too, which I was actually quickly learning to silence once again.

After all, my mind was taken by something more important. I was out to get my dream, now that I finally knew what my dream was. I was feeling a sense of direction for the first time in many, many years. And I was finally building the relationship I previously even didn’t dare dream about.

I was busy getting showered by love, and I was getting closer, day by day, to that perfect picture of my future, beautiful, international family.

Read the continuation of my story here: