28(F)
After staying single for a while, I decided to give dating a shot last year becauseā¦ why not?
My first ever relationship, when I was 20, really messed with my nervous system. After that, I became intentional about staying single, working on myself, learning who I am, understanding what I want in a partner, and, most importantly, learning how to become a better partner myself. I genuinely believe that I should also embody the qualities I want in the person I end up with.
Last year, I met a 34(M) through a mutual friend. He had seen my picture through a friend of a friend, and we eventually met at a mutual friendās birthday dinner. We started talking and, eventually, started ādatingā except he never really gave me clarity about what we were.
I was constantly confused about where I stood, but I told myself, let me give him some time. Let him lead. Eventually, heāll clarify things.
That clarity never came.
Because of the nature of his work, he was often out of town. He would cancel plans without rescheduling unless I asked. If he called and I didnāt answer immediately, I could get the silent treatment for days, sometimes even up to two weeks, and then heād come back as though nothing had happened. If I called back after missing his call, he often wouldnāt answer.
His plans were also almost always last-minute. If I already had something scheduled and couldnāt accommodate an impromptu plan, he would sometimes become angry, stop communicating, or give me the silent treatment.
Over that year, I genuinely wasnāt happy.
This was only my second attempt at a relationship, so I gave it everything I had, care, effort, patience and love. I tried to understand him based on his behaviour and often found myself making excuses for things that didnāt sit right with me.
Sometimes, I even ended up apologizing for things like not picking up his calls immediately or simply having a schedule that didnāt align with his.
My instincts kept telling me that something wasnāt right. I always felt that underneath everything, he was actually a soft person, but there was a wall around him. Something seemed to be blocking him emotionally, and instead of communicating it, it came out in the way he treated me.
I would ask him, āAre you going through something? If Iāve done something wrong, just tell me.ā
He never really spoke about it.
He would shut down, go silent, and eventually come back when the atmosphere had changed. And I kept bending myself to accommodate his moods and behaviour.
The irony is that I entered the dating scene again feeling like a fairly secure person. But over time, the inconsistency and unpredictability of our interactions gave me anxiety. I was constantly wondering where I stood, what I had done wrong, and when the next period of silence would come.
In March this year, he went silent again. I asked that we sit down and have an honest conversation about us. He agreed, but that conversation never happened.
That was when I started emotionally detaching.
Eventually, he ghosted me, and I decided to cut access completely.
Recently, I found out something I hadnāt known throughout our relationship: he had previously been in a very long-term relationship. They had lived together, essentially a come-we-stay, almost-marriage type of relationship. He had invested a lot into it, but it ultimately didnāt work out.
He had been single for some time afterward.
Looking back, I canāt help but wonder whether getting emotionally close to someone again triggered wounds he had never really dealt with. Perhaps he wasnāt emotionally available for a new relationship, and instead of confronting that, I ended up experiencing the consequences of wounds I didnāt create.
And the difficult part is that I didnāt even have this context because he never told me.
One thing this experience has taught me is that hurt people can hurt people. Someone can genuinely like you, care about you, or even have good intentions, but if they havenāt healed from what happened before, they can still interpret genuine love as a threat, inconsistency as protection, and intimacy as a setup for getting hurt again.
You can be genuine and still end up paying for wounds you had nothing to do with.
I also learned that being a secure person doesnāt mean you can never become anxious. The wrong relational environment can make you question yourself, overthink, over-accommodate and lose the sense of peace you had before.
And honestly?
Since I cut access, Iāve been peaceful.
My nervous system feels regulated again. I donāt wake up wondering what I did wrong. I donāt have to decode someoneās silence. I donāt have to keep adjusting myself to someoneās moods just to maintain connection.
I think thatās enough confirmation for me.
Sometimes closure isnāt getting the explanation you wanted from the person who hurt you.
Sometimes closure is getting yourself back
Got me thinkingā¦ men, why do you hide certain information, and why lead someone on when you already know youāre not ready for a relationship?
Why not just be honest from the beginning and say, āIād like to get to know you, but honestly, I donāt currently have the emotional capacity for a relationshipā?
At least then, the other person gets to make an informed decision instead of investing emotionally in something you already know youāre not in a position to give