Emotional Stitches:

How My Own Insecurity Paralyzed Me in an Unhealthy Relationship

Art by Jasmine Gallman| VOX Staff

By Name Withheld| VOX Staff

You’re pathetic if you think you’re ever going to find someone better than me,” he said. Then, he hung up. Those words haunted me and echoed in the back of my head for months. I tried my hardest to forget them and remain unfazed, but long after he was gone, I found myself involuntarily obsessing over them each time I met someone new. As a result, a slew of volatile and unhealthy relationships followed in his wake. This echo was constantly telling me that I wasn’t good enough, that I was undeserving.

I met Jack* nearly two years ago. My friends and I were sitting around a table outside of a dessert café, enthusiastically discussing a concert we’d just seen, when Jack joined the conversation from a table nearby by telling us he had just gone to the same one. I was immediately drawn to him as he threw out facetious comments about the tightness of the lead singer’s leopard-print pants. Right away, everything from his dry sarcasm to his lopsided smile both intrigued and irked me. Within about two minutes of meeting him, I knew I was going to know him for a long time.

Within a couple weeks, Jack and I began to talk regularly. In addition to all of our other similarities, we were both insomniacs, so we’d have late night phone conversations that spanned hours. We’d confess things to each other we hadn’t been able to admit to anyone else. Our bond became so deep that I wasn’t even put-off when he told me about his stints in rehab and his suicide attempt. In fact, I was even more drawn to him. Knowing this secret side of him made me feel like I was the only thing keeping him stable. He depended on me, and I desperately enjoyed the feeling of having someone need me so much.

He had warned me about his unstable tendencies before we agreed to start dating, but nonetheless I was a bit surprised when a few months into our relationship he became extremely irrational and demanding. He started calling me constantly and even mandated what I could and couldn’t wear and where I could and couldn’t go. Small, trivial details, like missing one of his calls, would set him off and make him unreasonably angry. Whenever I spent time with a guy friend, I would have to spend hours afterwards reassuring him not to worry.
Eventually this became too much of a burden, so it broiled down to the inevitable decision. It was either Jack or everything else in my life. As a 15-year-old girl in love, there was only one obvious answer.
I estranged myself. I hardly ever saw my friends and I definitely didn’t have any male friends anymore. I didn’t even go to the movies because they were deemed “too dangerous” for me to attend without his supervision. At first I didn’t even perceive these ridiculous regulations on my life as controlling. I dismissed this behavior as his way of expressing his love for me. Sickly, I almost thought it was sweet of him.

Within a couple more months, I felt physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. I was drained from quietly giving into his irrational demands for so long. His possessiveness, born out of his own insecurity and emotional instability, was finally just an annoyance, not anything that made me feel loved or special. I was 16 years old, and I had a life to live. I couldn’t be tied down to a boy who would get mad at me for not responding to a text.

Out of sheer frustration, I would lash out and do things behind his back that he had tried to deny me. When he found out, he would guilt me with his past and hint that if he were to attempt another suicide, I would be responsible. Every trace of the laid-back, upbeat boy I had met on that hot summer night was gone. In his place was a boy that was insecure, clingy, needy, manipulative and depressive. I missed my old life, but I felt guilty for lying to him. I didn’t know how to satisfy both of us, so I continued to compromise myself to keep him happy.
      

Finally, the relationship began to feel like a chore. I was sick of having to behave a certain way to keep him pacified. I was afraid to leave him because I didn’t know what he was capable of doing. I felt tied down, suffocated and stuck. Finally, after almost a year, I broke up with him. The mental exhaustion and stress had dragged on for so long that the break-up wasn’t even painful; on the contrary, it was almost relieving. I told him that I cared about him and wanted to stay close friends, but I didn’t have the time or energy for a relationship anymore.

After a thick silence, he delivered the last words I would ever hear from him. He responded quietly and evenly, saying he never wanted to speak to me again and that I would never find anyone better than him. After a few weeks, I got worried. I started to believe it. I realized that I had been dependant on him as well: he was the boyfriend I knew would never leave me. He was a constant reassurance, a safety net — and now he was gone.

It took me almost half a year to get over Jack. Every time I met a new boy, I would think about what Jack had said: essentially, that I didn’t deserve to be with anyone. I either pushed people away because I was embarrassed of myself or I clung to them because I was afraid that Jack had spoken the truth: that no one would ever care about me again. And I desperately wanted to prove to myself that it wasn’t true.

Through all these torrid relationships, I went through a lot of difficult nights during which I was convinced Jack had spoken the truth and believed that breaking up with him was a horrible mistake. I wasn’t brought back to the reality of the situation until a friend of mine finally reproached me for agonizing over this boy. “Being with you is a privilege, not a chore,” she told me curtly. “Any boy who doesn’t realize that doesn’t deserve to be with you.”

Eventually, I realized that Jack being possessive and controlling wasn’t a way of showing his love; it was just a way for him to feel better about himself. And although his insecurities took a tremendous toll on what could have been a great relationship, I contributed to a lot of the problems as well. It took me a long time to accept that I was just as insecure. I didn’t stand up for myself once, and I stayed in a damaging relationship simply because he made me feel needed. I desperately clung to any small offering of self-worth from him, trying to build my self-respect on the esteem others allowed me. I realize now that I will not have a successful, stable relationship with another person until I’m comfortable standing on my own. So, I’ve been focusing on learning how to love myself instead. It’s been three years now, and Jack’s words don’t bother me anymore because I have met someone better. Me.

The Writer is a senior at an Atlanta Private School.

*Name Changed