“You’re worthless.” You looked me in the eyes and uttered those words. Voice dripping with venom, eyes filled with malice and hatred. Not so long ago you were my world. The person who showered me with love and affection, making me feel like I was the only girl in the world. Like I was the only one who mattered. When you looked at me, when you touched me, I would feel a warm sensation spread from my stomach throughout my body. Now all I feel when you look at me is fear. Fear for the next blow, fear for the hurt your words are going to inflict on my already dwindling soul.

Just the other week you told me how perfect I was. You complimented my eyes telling me it was like staring into a clear night sky. Now all you seem to see is an imperfect mess. Ironically, you’re the one who created that mess. I am who I am because of you. Before I met you, I had walls around my heart and kept my soul in a cage. Away from your grasp. But you got into my head, got me to let my guard down. Slowly, you brought down my walls and undid my guarded exterior. You relished the sight of my vulnerable soul, I was at your mercy.

You know what hurt me most? What tore my soul apart? Not so long ago you made me feel so special, now I feel so unwanted. So undesirable. Because of you and the seed of self-hatred you planted in me, that seed grew and blossomed. Outgrowing my own sense of self-worth, leading me to rely on you to validate my existence. I walked away from friends and family. They warned me about you, you know? They told me you weren’t good for me, that your dark and twisted ways were only going to destroy me. I didn’t listen. I was blinded by “love” and my judgement was clouded by my need to please you. The need for you to love me.

Someone once told me that my dignity may be assaulted and vandalised, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered. I surrendered my dignity to you. Gave you power over me. Over and over again you inflicted harm and I let you. I loved you though, more than anything. Maybe that’s why I let you do the things you did. It wasn’t the punches or the bruises that hurt. It was the wounds to my heart and the scars to my mind. I gave you the power to define me and God knows you chose the worst word in the dictionary, ‘worthless’.

You didn’t have to hit me to leave a scar. The scars of your mental abuse ran just as deep and were as long-lasting. Through all this I lost myself. I lost myself loving you. Made myself forget that I could be special too. I hated looking in the mirror, I hated the girl I saw staring back. Her face was blank, her eyes hollow. She had lost her confidence, her creativity, her individuality. Because of your psychological invalidation all she was, was a subservient and damaged shell. You contributed so little to me, yet you controlled so much. You were poisonous, you altered my perception. You had me spend years thinking I was worthless, but I wasn’t worthless. You just didn’t appreciate me.

I remember the day I decided to walk away from you. It was damn hard, I loved you. But I had realised that I had to love myself more. I stumbled on, out of your life, but that decision was the best I ever made. I had to let you go just so I could hold onto my sanity. So I could hold onto myself. What we had was broken, shattered. Like glass, I was better off leaving it broken and walking away, rather than trying to fix it and getting hurt all over again.

I am worth so much more than you said I was. The scars you left cannot be seen, I do feel them however. My conscious mind is still bound to the buried painful memories. That’s why I cry myself to sleep sometimes. That’s why I fail to give and receive love properly. Because the memory of you is a trigger. I still even fight battles with you in my own head. Just thinking about you is enough to hurt me all over again.

I am not defined by what you did to me though. I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become. What you did to me wasn’t my fault, but how I’m dealing with it now shows me that even if the scars have healed and even if the pain still exists, I get to decide that I am worthy. I am worth more than you said I was.


Tell us: Have you ever had to walk away from someone who was more harm than good?