For the longest time, I never felt good enough. I would walk past the mirror and wonder when I would be skinny enough. My waist wasn’t tiny enough and my thighs were too thick.

The girl he chose over me had piercing blue eyes and I wished mine were like hers.

I examined my hair and debated back and forth whether or not I should lighten my locks. He’s always had a thing for blondes.

I’m 5’1 and I love it, mostly because I loved how he called me shorty but in the back of my mind I always knew there was a girl who was shorter than me that he called by the same nickname and I wanted to be her too.

Whenever I sat with my friends and laughed, I would instantly be annoyed with the sound that came out of my mouth. I felt like he was watching me anytime I was with my girls and I felt so pressured to come off as hot and perfect. He made me hate how I interacted with my group. I was always too quiet and I begged myself to be more outgoing and obnoxious.

He hated my best friends. He’d tell me that I was better off without them and he was angry when I chose to hang out with them over him, but that was only because they saw his true colors way before I ever did.

I wanted to be a crazy party girl like all of the other girls he hung out with. I wanted to be rebellious. I wanted to ruin my lungs and destroy my liver to be his. I wanted to be able to “handle” hanging out with him and his crew.

He kept me his dirty little secret. I’d see his boys at the beach or at restaurants sometimes and I always knew they had no idea what was going on between us. Anytime I decided to speak up, people called me crazy because he denied everything I said and of course they believed him. All he ever did was make me look weak and desperate.

He made me feel like I couldn’t make my own decisions, and looking back, I really didn’t make choices by myself or even for myself. Everything I ever wanted and everything I ever did was based on his thoughts, his wants and his needs. It was never about me.

I hated myself for having so many feelings and allowing things to affect my mood so easily, because the girls he hung out with were never like that. I destroyed myself for the way I dressed and how I cut my hair because I was so different from them.

I tried countless times to change who I was for him and I made a fool of myself trying to get his attention.

I awoke in the morning and asked myself what I could do to please him, what could I do to make him realize that I was worthy of his affection. When I think back to days like that, it disgusts me. I don’t understand how I could possibly get myself so deep into something that hurt me so bad. I can’t believe I lived and breathed to make another person happy. I thought he was a gift from God and I never realized how toxic he was to my well-being.

I only thought I was good enough if I earned his attention. I assumed I was doing something right if he gave me the time of day. If he stared at me as I walked through the door, I thought I must have been extra pretty that day and I'd tell myself that I need to start looking that good all the time. If we were able to have a thoughtful conversation that lasted a while, I was improving. I was getting better. I was becoming what he wanted.

For years my thought process was f**ked. He came and went as he pleased and I never batted an eye when he wanted something from me. I was his “yes girl.” I never questioned him - I just did as I was told. I couldn’t control it - there was just this need to satisfy him, to make sure he knew I loved him and I would never say no to anything he wanted. I kept hoping the more I showed him what I have to offer, the more he would open his eyes to see I was the girl for him. I can tell you right now that never happened but I begged the sun, the moon and the stars to let me be his.

It wasn’t until two a.m. on a surprisingly warm November night that I lost my patience and any hope I had of the situation getting better. I sat with my legs intertwined with his as we argued. He’s always had a way of knowing exactly what to say to me. His words cut deep into me and leave me speechless while tears fill my eyes, then a second later he'll take it all back with a sweet voice and one small compliment. He did it so much that I became used to it. It was like a game and this night was no different.

Over the years, fighting with him had only gotten worse, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the insults or excuses. I couldn’t take the complete and utter disrespect. He attacked me and made me feel guilty for every decision I had made leading up to that night. He toyed with my feelings and made sure I knew that I would never want anybody the way I wanted him. He repeatedly reminded me that I was never and would never be enough for him and I was tired of playing his games. His compliments no longer made me feel warm and fuzzy, I just felt sick. I stared at him and stopped taking his s**t. He was stunned when I lashed out at him and I think a part of him felt guilty. We both knew this time an “I’m sorry” and “you’re beautiful” wasn’t going to make me fall in love with him all over again. He saw the hatred in my eyes and heard it in my voice as we continued to go back and forth. As our fighting intensified, we both realized everything would be different from that point on because the words he said left a mark that couldn’t be unheard.

I woke up the next morning and wanted nothing to do with him. Going through the same never-ending cycle got old and I couldn’t do it anymore, nor did I want to. The “what-should-be’s” and the “what-could-be’s” used to consume every fiber of my being as he floated in and out of my life, but they don’t anymore. Deep down a part of me knew that I deserve better all along, but you don’t understand it until you’ve been in it.

I won’t lie and say it was easy, because when you are as wrapped up in another person as I was, removing them from your life seems impossible and even once you do it, you don’t forget it. I don’t forget him and what happened. I don’t forget the person I was every time he left and there are days where I still hate myself for the girl I was when I was with him. I think most of all I hate the person I allowed myself to turn into because of my twisted love for him.

I won’t pretend that that night was the last time I’ve talked to him, because it wasn’t. I cried a little too much. I blew his phone up one too many times, asking questions and searching for answers he’ll never give me. I broke myself trying to repair the damage he left behind. It didn’t last as long as the other times, but it still happened. Every few weeks his name would pop up on my phone and in those moments I decide who is in charge - me or him. The most difficult aspect of the entire situation is that I didn’t walk away from him once. I walk away from him every single time he comes back around and there are days where that feels like the hardest thing in the world to do. And it’s not because I miss him. It’s because at one point I was in love with him and over time it became so natural to allow him to come back into my life and to do what he asked of me. Now I have to fight the urge to fall back into our routine constantly. At the end of the day, it comes down to whether or not I’m strong enough because every text, every call, every Instagram like, every Snapchat... it’s like someone is pushing the reset button and I have to cut him off all over again. Sometimes I’m curious to see what he would say to me, but I know that I cannot go down that road again because it’s only filled with pain, manipulation and empty promises.

When I chose to walk away, I chose myself. I knew I needed to erase him from my life and focus on putting my wants and needs above all else, because nothing terrifies me more than falling back into another person's control. But sometimes life throws you curve balls. I met someone who isn’t him and for once that doesn’t make me sad, it makes me happy. I used to feel sick at the thought of being with anyone who wasn’t him, but I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m actually so grateful this new person came into my life when he did. I don’t have to change who I am for him because he enjoys being around me for who I am, not for who I could be. His attention is completely focused on me whenever we’re together and he doesn't want me in the middle of the night, he wants me in the middle of the afternoon. He doesn’t call me when he’s drunk because he wants me in his bed, he calls because he wants to hear my voice. We don’t keep anything from one another and our friends all know about us. He doesn’t call me “slamming,” he calls me gorgeous, intelligent and amazing. He doesn’t care if my hair is light or dark because he thinks I look beautiful either way. He’s always complimenting my eyes and he laughs at how short I am every time he pulls me in for a hug. I don’t feel pressured to be skinnier or thicker for him. I’m not worried about how my laugh sounds or what comes out of my mouth because he doesn’t judge me. I’m not afraid that I’m going to say something stupid because if I do, he smirks and laughs with me, and watching someone's face break into a grin because of you is hands down one of the best feelings. He takes me out to dinner and asks me about my day. When I say “it was OK,” or “it was fine,” or "it was amazing," he wants to know why it was OK or why it was fine or why it was amazing. He checks to make sure I get home safe and worries every time I leave him. He knows if something is bothering me by the look I get in my eyes when my mind is racing and he can always see it before I even have the time to acknowledge that I’m hurt by something. He’s sincere when he asks me questions and is genuinely curious about my life. I find myself answering him honestly, which is something I tend not to do with most people. No one ever asks me how my sister is doing, not even my best friends, but he always makes it a point to see how she is. I’ve had nightmares for years and when I wake up crying in the morning because of what I saw in my sleep, he doesn't say “that sucks” or “get over it” - he calms me down and talks to me until the tears stop. When I’m around him, I don’t have to put up a front and say that everything is perfect all the time, because he lets me know that it’s OK if everything isn’t perfect. Having him in my life has only shown me that I’m more than enough, and it's honestly a wonderful feeling - I could not thank him more for that.