𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 💔
(𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙) 🤐

My relationship with intimacy was terrifying. It felt like the most dangerous frontier - the place where my deepest wounds lived. So I avoided it for years, convinced I was just unlucky in love.

My story sounded so reasonable:

“I’m an amazing partner. I’m so easy to love. I have so much to give and don’t ask for much. Why can’t I find someone of high quality who will just love me?”

I believed this completely. That was my truth.

What I couldn’t see then was that my codependence had disguised itself as generosity. I was the martyrdom queen, over-serving to the point of exhaustion, wrapped in such graceful suffering that even I bought the performance. I gave and gave and gave… and called it love.

I did a lot of healing work - including the 12 Steps of Co-Dependence Anonymous, which was deeply transformative. But the deepest patterns could only be revealed in relationship with another person.

Then I met him. A deeply sovereign man who swept me off my feet on the dance floor and refused to be controlled by anyone, including me.

We started casual - both of us scarred and sworn off relationships. No expectations, no ownership, just a few baseline agreements & connection. This worked fine until my feelings developed.

Then the dark patterns emerged.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲. I became obsessed with his platonic connections with other women. I watched who he danced with, who made him laugh, who looked at him with interest. I lashed out with sarcasm and ice-cold punishment.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥. I alternated between lavishing him with gifts and attention, then going completely unavailable when he didn’t respond exactly as I expected. If I could have chained him to my house, I would have. And even that wouldn’t have been enough - I wanted access to his phone, his thoughts, his every moment.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐲. I demanded all his attention while maintaining my own complete freedom. I raged if he had fun without me, but it was perfectly fine when I went on trips or enjoyed myself independently. I had one set of rules for him and another for me, and it felt completely justified.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. I used love, kindness, softness, and fun as weapons. All unconscious, all designed to get him to bend to expectations he’d never agreed to. When he didn’t comply, punishment followed.

All of this ugliness was driven by one thing: terror of abandonment. This was the closest to real vulnerability I’d ever gotten, and I was certain that if he left, I wouldn’t survive.
Here’s what saved me: 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚.

He was completely immune to my manipulation and called it out immediately. When I tried to cling to him for saving, he’d step back emotionally and let me save myself. When I moved into punishment mode, he’d wait patiently for me to finish tantruming, set a VERY firm boundary about what he was willing & available to experience, accept my apology with grace, and never bring it up again.

The level of patience this man showed me was extraordinary. I consider myself patient, but even I wouldn’t have put up with me. I could barely tolerate being in my own head.

But he stayed present through all of it, giving the scared parts of me permission to finally relax into trust. Trust that he wouldn’t leave. And more importantly, trust that even if he did, I would be okay.

It took a lot of work. A lot of tears. A lot of apologies. A lot of clearing old wounds.

Many people were surprised to find out I was in a relationship- usually I share my experiences openly, but it was because of the level of darkness and shame I was stumbling through that I was absolutely not ready to expose while I was in the thick of it.

But I found my way and we found our rhythm. 😌

Our baseline agreements became freedom, sovereignty, and respect. That’s what we measure everything by.

We don’t track each other’s movements or require explanations of where we’ve been. We go out without each other often and also love being together. Our hearts are open for connection with others, but romance stays sacred between us.

There’s no permission required. No judgment. No expectations.

There’s just choice. The energy of choosing each other, day after day, without entitlement about what that means.

There’s the allowance that either of us might want out tomorrow, and the trust that if that happens, we’ll be okay. And with that safety comes the ability to actually build something real.

What we have now is peace. Deep peace in both our nervous systems. There’s a playfulness that feels like new love even as we celebrate our first anniversary. There’s genuine intimacy in our lack of drama, in our quiet domestic moments, in our subtle joy.

**𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝:** I wasn’t unlucky in love. I was trying to control love instead of receive it. I was performing connection instead of actually connecting. I was so afraid of abandonment that I was guaranteeing it with my behavior.

Real love doesn’t spike your nervous system - it calms it. Real love doesn’t require control because it’s built on choice. And the right person won’t fix you, but they’ll create a safe enough container for you to heal yourself.

If you’re stuck in the “why can’t I find love?” loop, the question isn’t about finding the right person. It’s about becoming someone who doesn’t need to control or be saved. When you can choose love from sovereignty instead of seeking it from scarcity, everything changes.

MASSIVE shout out to Suzanne Stauffer, without whom we never would have made it this far 🥰