I thought I was in love.
I just didn't know what love was not supposed to feel like.
I was young, hopeful, and far too willing to see the good in people who hadn't earned it. The kind of girl who believed that if you loved someone hard enough, they'd eventually love you the right way back.
(Spoiler: that's not how it works.)
What started as attention felt exciting-flattering, even. Until it didn't. Until the small things I ignored turned into patterns I couldn't unsee. Until I couldn't tell where love ended and control began. Until I found myself in a relationship I no longer recognized, trying to hold everything together while quietly falling apart.
And somehow, in the middle of it all... I became a mom.
This is the story of how I lost myself-slowly, quietly, and then all at once.
But it's also the story of how I got out.
The moments I ignored. The things I excused. The nights I cried and still stayed. And eventually, the kind of strength it takes to leave when leaving feels impossible.
There are parts of this story that may make you uncomfortable.
There are parts that may make you laugh in disbelief.
And if you've ever loved someone who hurt you, there will be parts that feel uncomfortably familiar.
But more than anything, this is for the woman who is still finding her way back to herself.
The one rebuilding. The one starting over. The one doing it scared, with kids in the backseat and no clear plan-just a quiet knowing that she deserves more than what she was given.
You are not crazy.
You are not weak.
And you are not alone.
This isn't just a story about what I went through.
It's about what I survived-and what comes after.
