Red Flags, Realisation and Choosing me

So after my last blog post, I genuinely thought I was stepping into this new version of myself. I had all these plans. I started my workout routine. I was getting excited about running again. I had my head wrapped around the idea of finally doing something for myself instead of constantly surviving for everyone else.

I thought I was entering this really empowering phase of healing.

But honestly, the last couple of weeks have been messy.

Not movie-montage messy, where the girl cries once, gets a haircut, and suddenly has her life together. Real messy. The kind where your mind races at night, where you replay conversations over and over again, where you are exhausted but still cannot sleep because your nervous system is permanently stuck in overdrive.

That whole week, I barely slept.

And the worst part is, it was because I started seeing someone’s true colours.

One thing I can say after everything I went through with my ex-husband is that I notice red flags much faster now. I might still struggle with my reactions, I might still question myself sometimes, but deep down, my body knows when something feels off.

And this felt off.

What really hit me was realising how many people view relationships like transactions.

Like love is something that should constantly be measured and balanced on some invisible scoreboard.

“I did this for you.”

“I made time for you.”

“I bought this for you.”

“I drove here for you.”

And suddenly, none of those things feels kind anymore because they are not being done out of love; they are being stored away as leverage for later.

That is not love to me.

A relationship should not feel like debt.

After speaking with my therapist, we ended up talking a lot about relationship dynamics. Not just what happened in my marriage, but why certain dynamics became normal to me in the first place. Why I accepted certain behaviours. Why I automatically slipped into caretaker mode. Why I felt responsible for keeping the peace, fixing emotions, making people feel secure, even when it came at the expense of myself.

And honestly, I do not think I had ever really thought about dynamics before.

I thought about love.I thought about chemistry.I thought about attraction.I thought about whether someone liked me.

But I never really sat there and thought:How do I actually want to feel in a relationship?

Because there is a huge difference between wanting a relationship and wanting a healthy dynamic.

I realised I want softness. Ease. Safety. I want a relationship where somebody does things for me because they genuinely want to see me happy, not because they expect a return payment later. I do not want to feel like spending time with me is a chore that someone needs recognition for.

I want a man who does not make me feel like I am “too much” to love.

And equally, I want to love someone properly too. I want to do thoughtful things for someone because I care about them, not because I am trying to secure my own safety or prove my worth. I want to feel natural on both sides, not calculated.

I think when you leave toxic relationships, especially long ones, you realise how much your brain was trained to accept the bare minimum while overperforming in return.

You become grateful for crumbs.

And that is something I am trying really hard to unlearn.

The whole situation reminded me of that saying:“If he wanted to, he would.”

And I know people throw that phrase around a lot online, but honestly, I think there is truth in it.

If somebody genuinely values you, they will want to understand your needs. They will want to respect your boundaries. They will care when something hurts you instead of trying to convince you that your standards are unreasonable.

And if they know something matters to you but continuously choose not to care, then eventually you have to stop asking them to.

The argument that ended things was actually over a boundary I tried to set.

Nothing crazy.Nothing toxic.Just a boundary.

But somehow it turned into this whole thing where I was being reminded of everything he had done for me, like because somebody chooses to do nice things for you, you suddenly owe them access to parts of yourself you are uncomfortable giving.

That immediately triggered something in me.

Because healthy love does not pressure you.Healthy love does not guilt you into abandoning your boundaries.Healthy love does not make you feel selfish for protecting your peace.

And I think the hardest part was realising how quickly I still fall into old patterns when someone starts emotionally manipulating me.

There was one phone call in particular that really sat with me afterwards because it made me realise exactly why my ex-husband had been able to manipulate me so easily for so many years.

This man started saying he did not feel good enough for me.

And looking back now, I can see how manipulative that actually was.

But in the moment, I did what I have always done.

I made myself smaller.

Instead of agreeing and walking away, instead of thinking “then maybe this is not the relationship for you,” I immediately started trying to comfort him. I started downplaying myself. I told him I was not that special. I started listing my flaws. I started trying to convince him to stay with me.

Read that again.

A man questioned his worth, and somehow I ended up questioning mine!

That is how subtle manipulation works sometimes.

Not all manipulators scream at you.Not all manipulators insult you.Some of them make you emotionally responsible for them so that you slowly start abandoning yourself, trying to hold them together.

And by the end of that phone call, I felt horrible.

Not because he attacked me directly, but because somehow I had spent hours tearing myself apart while trying to make him feel secure.

That was the moment it really clicked for me.

Manipulation is not always obvious.Sometimes it is hidden inside vulnerability.Sometimes it sounds soft.Sometimes it even sounds insecure.

But if every conversation leaves you feeling smaller while they leave feeling reassured, there is a problem.

And honestly, recognising that about myself was confronting.

Because I like to think I am stronger now.I like to think I have healed more than I probably have.But healing is weird. You can be incredibly self-aware and still fall into familiar emotional patterns before you even realise it.

That week completely threw me off.

I did not start 75 Hard.I did not do Pilates.I did not go for runs.I barely slept.My anxiety was through the roof.

And I think what upset me most was how quickly one person affected my mental state. How quickly I abandoned my routine, my goals, and my peace, trying to navigate somebody else emotionally.

But maybe that is part of healing, too.

Not pretending things do not affect you, but recognising them faster.

A year ago, I probably would have stayed.I probably would have explained myself more.I would have tried harder to be understood.I would have ignored the red flags because I wanted the relationship to work.

This time I did not.

And honestly, I am proud of that.

Not because it did not hurt.Not because I handled everything perfectly.But because for the first time, I saw the behaviour, acknowledged the discomfort, and chose myself anyway.

I think that is what healing actually looks like.

Not becoming untouchable.Not never getting hurt again.Not suddenly becoming some ultra-confident woman who has everything figured out.

But learning to leave situations that require you to abandon yourself to stay in them.