I Thought I Was Healed — Until I Fell in Love Again

The ending of my trauma-bonded relationship with my narcissistic ex was my turning point. It shattered me in a way I didn't think was possible — to the point where I had no choice but to turn inward and finally learn how to love myself.

I was already in therapy at the time, though not for the right reasons. My ex had me convinced I was bipolar. He made me believe I was the problem. He even pushed me to schedule an appointment — and thank God we broke up before that day ever came.

Because what I was experiencing wasn’t a mental illness. It was survival. It was reactive abuse. It was me losing myself trying to love someone who was never going to love me back.

The healing didn’t start right away. At first, I was wild. I did anything I could to numb the pain — alcohol, overworking, filling every moment with chaos. I picked up two jobs, worked excessive hours, and kept myself constantly busy. Because if I stayed busy, I didn’t have to feel anything.

Those three years were a wild ride. I wasn’t an emotionally available person, no matter how much I thought I wanted to be. I kept attracting what I was — emotionally unavailable men who just wanted to use me. And in return, I became toxic to them. I knew how to play the game better than they did. And I won — over and over — but not without cost.

There was a twisted satisfaction in messing with them, in having the upper hand for once.

But I couldn’t live that way forever. I had gone from codependent to probably way too independent. I wouldn’t let any man help me with anything. I never showed them the real me — or anyone else, really. I was terrified of judgment. I didn’t trust people. Hell, I still struggle to trust people. Even having friends has been hard for me.

During those three years, I had to learn how to like myself again — not just survive as a version of myself built out of pain and ego. And eventually, I got there. Maybe even a little too confident. I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone. I could spend the rest of my life alone with 27 dogs, and I’d say that out loud to anyone who asked — half-joking, half-dead serious.

But life has a funny way of unfolding when you least expect it.

I met my current boyfriend a year ago. At first, I told myself, “We can just be friends. I don’t want anything more.” But it became harder and harder to fight that urge. For the first time in my life, I met a man who genuinely liked me — all of me. Even the messy, angry, guarded parts. Even the version of me that still flinched when things felt too easy. Too good.

Our relationship has been anything but easy.

In fact, it was so emotionally triggering at first that I had to put myself back in therapy. I thought when I did therapy before and learned to love myself again, that was it — that was the healing. But I was wrong. I hadn’t even begun to unpack the trauma from my past relationships. I had just scratched the surface.

The truth is, I’ve never known what a healthy relationship felt like until now. And no, we’re not perfect. We argue. We get frustrated. But the difference is we’ve learned how to communicate through it. We work through our problems together — because at the end of the day, we choose each other. Not out of fear, not out of need, but out of love.

Still, if I’m being completely honest, the smallest argument can send my body into full panic mode. That’s what trauma does — it wires you to expect the worst. And while I’ve made so much progress, there are still pieces of me healing. Still wounds that ache when things get too quiet or too tense.

And that’s why I will always drill this into my children’s heads: The person you choose to love will shape your mental and emotional world in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. So, choose wisely. Don’t chase chaos. Don’t confuse intensity with intimacy. And never, ever abandon yourself for the sake of being loved.

Sometimes losing yourself is the first step to finally finding who you are.

I used to think healing meant being alone. Now I know it means being whole — whether I’m alone or not. And for the first time, I’m learning what it feels like to be loved without losing myself.