Sometimes, you think you’re really good at calling bullshit. Your whole life has and will consist of weeding out the sincere from the cynical, the real from the pretend, and the honesty from the lies. By this time, you feel like you are part human, part lie detector. I was like that. I prided myself on being the epitome of a strong woman. My actions were laced in independence and my words were stern. No one could have told me what to do—until him.

For six months I laced up every day to fight a battle that neither side would win. Prior to me meeting him, a mentor of mine gave me some life advice: “Find a partner, Nadia. You’re too great to be single.”

Then he appeared, and I felt like he supposed to be my lighthouse. We were supposed to conquer long days and longer nights together. We were supposed to light up the sky for one another when the stars dimmed. Instead, it was like I was navigating choppy waters blindfolded while he was safe on land, shouting whenever I made a mistake.

Almost a year later, I’m still angry at myself. I let this person dictate who I posted photos with on Instagram. I let him tell me that the only reason I had close male friends was because I slept with them. I let him tell me that I was a bitch—that I was selfish. I let him destroy me because I was eager for love. My friends interrogated me about why I stayed with him. Now that I can go weeks without thinking about him, I think I finally understand why I put myself through emotional turmoil for six months.

1. I was tired

I always had a plan for myself that I would meet my partner in my 20’s. I wanted it to be him so badly because I was tired of rejection. I was tired of the late night texts that led to early morning regrets. I was tired of people telling me I was “too much,” “too loud,” or any other excuse they could think of. I craved stability and I found it in him. Even if the fights were too much, I knew he would still be there the next day. That was comforting.

2. We looked good together

This is probably a shallow reason to stay in a controlling relationship, but we looked good together. We had the same style, we loved the same things. We both loved art and music. His family members would say, “You two are so cute together!” My friends would tell me how he was tailor made for me. I liked how well we appeared to mold. I loved being the couple that had it together, even though we were falling apart.

3. He could make me feel better

After calling me a cunt and giving me all the reasons why he could leave me, he was the one to make it better. He’d tell me that if he were my dad, he would have abandoned me too. Then he would politely open my car door for me as we went inside. He’d cut me open and sew me back together in a single sentence.

4. I thought I could fix him

He would tell me about the women that broke his heart and about his strained relationship with his dad. “He needs me,” I thought. “I can make him feel better,” I thought. He would lash out at me and I would understand. He was hurt. But, I was hurting too because of him.

5. My self-confidence was sh*t

I didn’t believe that someone like him could like someone like me. I had been told that I was too loud, too straight forward. I was always “too” something. I looked at him and saw perfection. I looked at my reflection and saw disappointment. I put up with his emotional warfare because I didn’t think I could find anything better.

The day came when I cut ties. It came after an unpleasant experience that he blamed me for. He called me while I was at the airport, preparing for a three-month excursion in Italy. I could hear the fire in his voice. I perfectly pictured the vein in his neck that would swell when we argued—snaking from his collarbone to his clenched jawline. “This is your fault, Nadia,” he spat.

I laughed. I hung up. I boarded my flight—finally free.