Breaking the Cycle: A New Year’s Reclamation

For as long as I can remember, I have been a master of contortion. I learned early on how to twist my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors into a shape that would earn me love.

In my childhood, affection was a currency—one that was granted when I played the role my mother scripted for me, and sharply withdrawn when I dared to be my own person. I didn’t realize it then, but I was being pre-conditioned. I was being taught that my boundaries were obstacles to love and that my self-abandonment was the price of peace.

The Architecture of the “Perfect Target”

I used to think my greatest strengths—my empathy, my compassion, and my deep desire to understand others—were just parts of my personality. I didn’t realize that without boundaries, these traits made me the perfect target for a narcissistic dynamic.

Because I was already desensitized to being “bulldozed,” I didn’t see the red flags in the father of my children as warnings. I saw them as normal. I mistook “control” for “intensity” and “erasure of self” for “compromise.”

By the time my first child was born, the slow erosion of my identity had accelerated. I woke up one day and realized I was a shell of the woman I used to be.

The Gift of the Rock Bottom

It’s a strange thing to say, but I think life needed to happen this way. I needed to hit the floor to realize how hard I had been falling.

In the quiet of that rock bottom, I began the slow, deliberate work of remembering. I remembered what I deserved. I remembered who I was before the world told me who to be. Most importantly, I looked at my children and realized that they deserve to know what real love looks like—and it doesn’t look like one person disappearing so another can feel big.

A New Kind of New Year

People often expect the “shedding” phase of life to be filled with grief. And while there is room for that, what I feel right now isn’t sadness. It is empowerment.

I am stepping into the New Year as the clearest-minded, fiercest version of myself I have ever known. My intention for this year isn’t a fitness goal or a hobby; it is a vow.

I will no longer self-abandon for the benefit of someone else or to prevent conflict.

I will no longer shrink to fit into rooms that aren’t meant for me. I will no longer provide comfort to those who only know how to consume.

Cheers to the New Year. Here’s to finding our spines, reclaiming our voices, and never, ever leaving ourselves behind again.