“I won’t leave you like the others did.”
My freshman situationship taught me more about myself, attachment styles, relationships, power of words, and a whole lot of things than any of my past relationships.
What do I mean by the power of words?
When you depend on someone too much, in a wrong way, their words often transform into your reality, even if they don’t reflect the truth. It’s almost as if you’re under a spell.
He claimed he could be my only friend, and suddenly, I found myself believing I had no one else. He told me to stop feeling lonely because I had him, yet that only deepened my loneliness. When he told me everything was going to be okay, it felt as if there was something NOT okay with me. He reassured me that I wasn’t stupid, as if the world had just declared that I was. To him, I was always an object of pity, and I misunderstood that attention as genuine understanding. Inherently, I believe, it was this power imbalance that made the situationship addictive for both sides.
And yes, maybe some of the things he said about me were true. But even if they were true, it feels entirely different when someone else says them. It’s true that i struggle to make friends, to let ppl in, to be comfortable in front of others —that’s a reality I’m aware of—but it stings when someone points it out as if they know everything about me. Because they don’t. It’s similar to how you can tease your own brother but wouldn’t want anyone else to bully him. There’s a protective instinct that kicks in. Even if it’s true, I don’t want others telling me who I am. One important lesson I learned from this situationship is to never let others write my story or shape my reality. Giving them that power only messes with my mind and distorts how I see myself.
He was rich, nothing wrong with that fact itself, but he was one of those guys who only shops at Waitrose, won’t eat the tip of a banana because it’s “bad for health,” and book a cab for a 25-minute walk. I was new to his world, clueless about fancy cars or wine that costs more than my weekly groceries. I guess I was a bit of an exotic pet to him. Playing the role of teacher always suited him, I bet it made him feel like he was showing the world to me.
But not everything was his fault; in fact, I’d say more than half of the blame lies with me. Looking back, I see a pattern in my interactions with men. At first, they show genuine interest in me, but when things start to get serious, I always push them away. Then, when they move on to someone else, I find myself feeling sad and wanting them back.
Did a quick google search, I have an anxious attachment style. If my experience resonates with you, we’re in the same boat 🙂 Figuring out how to deal with this and start the self-healing journey could honestly be a whole other post, so I won’t get into it here.
Looking back, he’s just a side story in my journey of friendship development with this girl I now proudly call my best friend. She never judged my silly decisions and always replied to my late night texts about my situationship which I’m sure was less important than her sleep. Whether it be my high school boyfriend or that 27 y.o.guy from work, I realise that every interaction with men has only deepened my appreciation for my female friendships.
At the end of the day, he was the guy who told me to change my worn-out iPhone 11 asap when my old crush told me that my phone looked old meaning that I take good care of my belongings. It became clear to me that he wasn’t the one; there was nothing about our personalities that made us compatible.
I realised I never truly liked him; I just liked his attention. He recognised my vulnerability and still chose to take advantage of it. He showered me with attention when I needed it most, but as soon as I learned to give that attention to myself, it was over.
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