The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCLA chapter.

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of mental illness, self-harm, depression, eating disorders and domestic abuse.

I entered my first serious relationship at the age of seventeen, falling head over heels in love with a boy I met the summer before senior year. Our relationship shone brightly in all of its cliché glory, as we kissed in cars, traipsed hand-in-hand across LA’s must-see spots and shyly shared our first “I love you’s” with one another.

To any onlookers, we were the epitome of young love. Behind closed doors, I was unknowingly fighting for my life, desperately clawing my way through darkened pits of depression and anxiety. All too frequently I found myself lying awake at night, quietly wondering, What is wrong with me? How could I be so unhappy when I’m in a relationship that makes me happy? — or, so he said, makes me happy.

sad young woman laying by boxes — Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

As the months went on, my mental health diminished due to increased feelings of hopelessness. (“You’re upset again? You need to start seeing a therapist or we are breaking up. I can’t deal with this every day; you’re ruining my mental health with your problems.”) I had uncharacteristically isolated myself from family and friends, developed feelings of self-hatred alongside the emotional outlet of self-harm and ultimately lost touch with the person I used to be. (“Your friend said you have a nice body but an ugly face. What? Don’t get mad at me, I’m telling you because I care.”) My cries for help did not go unnoticed by my boyfriend, and he responded with ramped-up episodes of gaslighting, insults and the manipulation of my emotions. He convinced me that the entire world was against us, then insisted he was my knight in shining armor through it all (“You know you’re never going to find anyone as nice as me, right? Nobody else will put up with you. I can barely deal with you.”). My real-life Prince Charming.

The following year, I found an escape from this personal hell when I broke up with him after ten months together, but an unrelated heartbreak, fear of being alone and unhealthy tendency to revert back to bad habits led to thirteen more months of an on-again, off-again relationship for us. I wasn’t strong enough to stay away because I couldn’t bear the thought of being alone, and naturally, my ex capitalized on these insecurities with constant reminders that I was lucky he took me back, although he could leave at any moment.

By the time I was nineteen years old, I suffered panic attacks when spotting his car (or any car similar to his) driving around town, I regularly replayed conversations in my head to try and understand what I said or did to upset him this time. Moreover, I realized that I hated myself for staying with him more than I hated the person he had turned out to be. After serious bouts of reflection upon my future, I realized for the first time ever that I didn’t approve of where my life was heading.

woman lying in white bed — Photo by Yuris Alhumaydy from Unsplash

Luckily, the COVID-19 pandemic had one upside amidst the countless global tragedies — I finally found a way out of my abusive relationship, for good. National lockdowns meant indefinite separation, and we lost most channels of communication once my parents started checking my phone call and text logs (they knew my boyfriend was a terrible person and tried desperately to keep me away from him — thank you, guys, for putting up with my terrible decisions for as long as you did).

I had an out, and I took it — April of 2020 marked the last time that monster could ever call me his.

To my naive chagrin, the road to recovery wasn’t easy since I had developed a severe eating disorder, depression, OCD, anxiety disorder, insomnia and paranoia. After the breakup, my immediate response to the growing void of loneliness was to sign up for dating apps and rediscover my self-worth in the compliments and affection of douchey teenage guys. But, as you can probably guess, my mental health did not see any improvement from this arrangement.

Unfortunately, I struggled to find any relief from my struggles in the following years as every form of remedy failed, including therapy, self-help books, mental health podcasts, research studies and intensive journaling; but I soon realized that my abusive relationship had actually plummeted me into a position of comfort — I didn’t want to change. I had become so used to the depressed mindset of a miserable existence that I actually found comfort in perpetuating my mental illnesses. However, at the beginning of 2023, I finally reached the point where enough was enough — I wanted to take my life back and let go of everything my ex-boyfriend did to me. I was tired of hiding from the world, of hiding what I’d gone through simply because I feared him.

I chose to be happy, I chose to love myself again (well, I’m still working on that, but definite progress has been made). I chose to remember my worth and the fact that it comes from within, not from a relationship status.

A woman in a bathtub reads a book. — Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

My healing has been slow, painfully slow if I’m being honest, but I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I refuse to give up now that I’ve come so far. I’d like to point out that my intention in writing this article was not to earn readers’ sympathy or pity, but to share a story of surviving an abusive relationship so that other girls struggling with similar situations may find hope and courage to fight for themselves. Please remember that you are never alone, there are numerous professional and personal resources to reach out to if you’re a victim of abuse. You can get help.

Remember: You are strong, you are loved and you don’t deserve what you’re going through. You’re a fighter, don’t forget it!

As I sign off from this article, I’d like to say a final farewell to my ex-boyfriend: I free myself from our past because you no longer have any power over me. I wish you all the best and pray that you change for the better. While my future is not yet written, I know I’m going to be okay because I will be patient in love and with myself. After everything you said, everything you did, I choose to love myself — and it’s never felt better.

Goodbye, forever.

Free Resources Available 24/7:

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

Suicide and Crisis Hotline: 988

Self-Harm Hotline: 1-800-334-HELP

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention Hotline: 1-800-931-2237

Healing From His Words: My Experience Overcoming The Trauma Caused By Two Years In A Verbally Abusive Relationship

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