1 My Story

My ex-husband and I met in graduate school in our early twenties, got engaged within eight months of dating, and married a year later. We bought our first home with plans to have children once we both were finished with graduate school. Because what else would we do other than continue to check boxes off our list of social expectations for young couples?

We endured the kind of stress that only hustle culture approves of. Our egos simply had to prove that we were good enough to our respective families. We were highly focused on achieving our way out of childhood trauma, and we both had something to prove as first-generation children of immigrants.

Our road to “success” was a roller coaster, but I convinced myself it was worth it to check off those boxes. I can now see that we were trapped in a cycle of emotional addiction that kept me in a never-ending cycle of love-bombing, withdrawal, make-ups, breakups, unpredictable behavior, and physical, emotional, and verbal abuse.

I remember the first time he slapped me in the face. Yes, I was upset and shocked, but we had a trip to see our parents the next day, and I had to pull it together. I turned to MAC Studio Fix and Naphcon to conceal my black eye. I worried my makeup would melt and reveal the truth of what I was hiding. Embarrassment. Shame. Guilt. I felt I was betraying the woman inside me who was screaming out for help. The woman who knew this wasn’t the kind of life or marriage she was meant to have. I still remember constantly checking the mirror to make sure that my concealer was working.

I held on for what would be years. The reality was that I needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. I’d spent so much time being a rock to everyone around me both personally and professionally that I didn’t know how to allow someone else to do that for me.

But every story, no matter how bleak, often has a turning point. For me, that moment arrived unexpectedly on a rainy Tuesday evening. I was outside, drenched from the rain and fumbling with my keys. As I stepped into the dimly lit hallway of my home, I heard a phantom sound that stopped me in my tracks. It was the sound of my younger self, from a time before the chaos, laughing without a care in the world.

I slid down the wall, buried my face in my knees, and let out a guttural scream—a blend of pain, frustration, and desperate longing for that lost version of myself. Right then, I realized that I had surrendered my joy, my identity, and my peace to a relationship that didn’t value me.

On that day, I made a promise to myself: no more hiding, no more justifying, and no more self-betrayal. It was time for me to reclaim my voice, to take back the reins of my life, and to rediscover the strong, vibrant woman who lay buried beneath years of suppression.

I never spoke up about the abuse I faced from my husband. My family didn’t know. My closest friends did not know. Not even my couples’ therapist knew. During that period of my life, I felt more shame than I even knew was possible. The shame of being a therapist, and seeing another therapist for help with my marriage. The shame of telling her that the strong and determined woman I cast for her was also being hit and slapped around? I just couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t share the truth with her. And at the time, I saw nothing wrong with that. That’s how deep this was for me. I was going to hide the truth regardless of the sacrifices, regardless of the cost.

Around this time I remember a friend saying to me, “You’ve changed, and I don’t like it. It’s like you’re this different person. No more light. No laughter. You’re not enjoying life. I know it. You know it. But we don’t have to talk about it. Just know that I know and when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” So, I grinned my way through that exchange while crying inside.

The last time my husband physically assaulted me, I was bloody, bruised, and had a cracked rib. I knew I had to call the police, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I knew that if I did, my life would change irrevocably. It meant giving up the mask. Still, another part of me knew I couldn’t keep living like this. There was no forgiving this. There was no way to unsee this. I was locked out of my home, bloody and bruised for my neighbors to see. There was no way that I could hide what had happened. I didn’t want to keep living like this; I deserved better.

I sat outside our door, crying on the phone with the 911 dispatcher. She calmed me down long enough for me to give her my location. The police arrived and took pictures of me exactly where they found me. On the ground, in the corner, hysterical and crying. Part of me was relieved I didn’t have to hide the truth anymore, but mostly I was embarrassed.

Pressing charges against him finally gave me the permission to leave.

The officer assigned to my case assured me that my ex had been apprehended a few blocks away and that I was safe. They called my uncle, who came over, and they gave me a safety plan as well as what to expect over the next few days. They arrested my ex, and I was issued a temporary restraining order for seventy-two hours. The officer would later call and visit to make sure I was okay in the days after the incident and leading up to the court date. When I saw him again in court, I gave him a note thanking him for everything he’d done on that day. There are so many different people that help us on our journeys to healing, and he was one of them.

After the divorce, I started seeing a new therapist. I remember asking her, “When will I know that I will be okay after all that I’ve been through?”

Her answer might be unsettling for some, but it’s what I needed to hear at the time, and I deeply feel there is wisdom in confronting this uncomfortable truth: “When you can look at all of this and see the lesson to be learned.” She helped me see that, yes, the marriage had to end, for obvious reasons, but the woman who had married that monster had to evolve as well. It took a long time, but I can now call that old version of myself a friend. My lessons were in learning how to let go so that I could grow. Had that day not happened, I cannot say I would have found the strength to leave on my own. I’d talked about leaving, even fantasized about it. But there was no concrete plan in place until that day.

I’d convinced myself that by hiding the truth, I was focusing on the good in the marriage. I didn’t understand the emotional somersaults and the resulting wear and tear on my psyche until I was out of it. My health was deteriorating, and I was only in my late twenties. Read that line again. My twenties! But once I filed for divorce, I never looked back.

By leaving him, it made me work harder to break the cycle of emotional addiction, starting my own journey toward healing in all my relationships.

Part of the work I needed to do on my path to healing was to find out why I had stayed in the relationship for so long. In my work as a psychotherapist, I’ve come to understand it as a pattern of self-abandonment.

Growing up, I was trapped in a tumultuous world of emotional abuse. The constant fighting and physical violence between my parents made me believe that this type of conflict was just a normal thing that happened in relationships. I was drowning in a sea of emotions that I couldn’t understand, let alone control. This led me down a path of emotional extremes, and I became addicted to the highs and lows of unhealthy relationships. My marriage would be one that eerily reflected this dynamic.

My struggles with codependency only made things worse. I found myself drawn to partners who were obsessed with me, and if they weren’t, I found them boring. This was my anxious attachment at work, sabotaging my relationships and seeking out intense sexual chemistry that could distract me from my trauma. I was in love with the idea of potential, always looking for someone who could fulfill my needs, instead of realizing that it was up to me to fulfill them. It took a long time, but I finally realized that I needed to love myself more. It was a hard pill to swallow, but once I did, everything else fell into place.

The road to healing was bumpy, but it was necessary for me to take a break from the toxic relationships that were dragging me down. I had to reconnect with myself, to heal my nervous system, and to examine my own attraction to these kinds of relationships, based on my own unresolved emotional wounds. I will discuss all of this in Part 1: Healing.

Above all else, I had to take ownership of my role in the situation and make a decision to change. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.

I see the process of healing after an abusive, toxic, or simply tumultuous relationship as a journey of self-discovery, one that asks us to dive deep into our unconscious minds and take responsibility for our own healing. It’s about becoming more self-aware and empowered to make conscious decisions that align with our values and aspirations.

As you embark on this journey, be prepared to encounter situations and relationships that challenge your newfound sense of self. Your ex may try to creep back in, your family may continue to make inappropriate requests, or new partners may show up with their own issues. You’ll start to realize that toxic relationships can show up in all forms, not just romantic, but in this book I will primarily be focusing on how toxic romantic relationships affect us and how you can heal from them. That said, keep in mind that much of what we will be covering also applies to non-romantic relationships.

On this journey, you may even question if you are truly finished with the past, ready to set boundaries or stop playing savior. But at the end of the day, you have to remind yourself that you deserve emotional peace, mutual respect, and emotional safety. You have to own your power and continue to make conscious choices that serve your highest good.

HEALING ISN’T LINEAR

Healing is a journey with twists and turns, meandering through dark valleys and up bright peaks. It’s an odyssey that can take you to unexpected places and bring you face-to-face with parts of yourself that you’ve long kept hidden away. You may experience a flood of emotions and awareness that can feel overwhelming. You may realize that the way you’ve always understood your life and relationships is no longer true.

It’s often painful to unpack your old beliefs and reshape them to fit an updated understanding of the world. Like unearthing an ancient artifact that has been buried deep within the earth for centuries, it’s a slow and delicate process, but when you finally uncover it, the beauty is breathtaking. For so long, you’ve kept your past traumas and unresolved emotions tucked away in your very own Pandora’s box. It can be frightening to confront them and let them go, but it’s essential to your growth and healing.

These realizations can feel like you’re making progress one day, and the next you’re right back where you started. You may encounter setbacks and obstacles that make you question if you’re making any progress at all. But it’s important to remember that healing is a process, not a destination.

Be patient with yourself and embrace the process and all the twists and turns that come with it so that you can appreciate the beauty of the journey as much as the destination. Each step forward, no matter how small, is progress. You’re learning to make conscious decisions and intentional commitments so that you can finally heal and thrive.

Buckle up and get ready for the ride of your life. Embrace the journey of healing and self-discovery that brings us back to ourselves. The first stop: unpacking that Pandora’s box in the back of your emotional closet.

PANDORA’S BOX

Deep within all of us lies a Pandora’s box filled with unaddressed trauma and unresolved emotional wounds that lurk beneath the surface. These forgotten emotions, traumas, and wounds have been pushed aside or ignored in order to survive in past relationships—yet they’ve covertly influenced our relationships nonetheless. This box holds painful memories surrounding toxic relationships, unhealthy patterns, emotional abuse, abandonment, rejection, betrayal, and more.

Often, we try to push these painful memories aside, pretending they don’t exist. Yet they remain, like a heavy anchor weighing you down. The key to freeing yourself from the shackles of these emotional wounds lies in diving into and cleaning out your Pandora’s box—like that junk drawer in your kitchen you ignore and keep adding to. To do this, you must journey into the depths of your own psyche, face the demons that have long haunted you, and allow yourself to finally confront them head-on. If you don’t, then the same demons in your Pandora’s box can show up in your relationships. Your childhood trauma becomes your adult drama.

It’s scary and difficult to unearth your past experiences, but the most important element is to remain open to the process. You don’t need to be perfect or to remember everything that has made you who you are. It starts with simply declaring that you’re listening to your intuition and unconscious mind as they show you the parts of yourself lurking in the shadows of your relationships today. When you do this, your intuition can begin to awaken and denial will soften. Your clarity will sharpen with each layer of trauma you peel back. Like a flicker of light in the darkness, you’ll be guided along the path toward healing.

Once you gain the courage to face the demons that haunt you, they can no longer hold you captive to the past. You are now able to trust your intuition, knowing that it will guide you toward the recesses of your heart that hold the answers around how you show up in your relationships. You learn to listen to your inner voice, to heed the red flags that arise, and to make choices that align with your true self.

Start by asking yourself questions such as: What do I need to know about how my past impacts my relationships today? What are some consistent threads present throughout my childhood and adult relationships? Abandonment? Betrayal? Emotional neglect? Feeling left out? Try to allow your intuition to guide you to answers.

By normalizing the process of unpacking your old wounds, you can begin to comprehend how they have shaped you and the impact they have on your life today. Embrace the journey, give yourself the grace you deserve, and find solace in the knowledge that we are all in this together.

Only when I opened my Pandora’s box was I able to see the patterns that had influenced so many of my relationships. Realizing how my past was still playing a role in them today helped me understand how to break free.

Looking back, a recurring theme emerged in my romantic relationships. I found myself drawn to men who had a pattern of ghosting, breadcrumbing, and unexpectedly severing ties. Poof, they were gone—suddenly and without warning. This mirrors the unexpected loss of my father, who passed away without any forewarning. It became evident that I was subconsciously seeking out partners who echoed the abrupt and unforeseen departure of my dad, reinforcing a cycle of sudden and unexplained absences in my life.

Reflecting on my marriage, I realized that something as simple as my ex-husband stepping out to the store would trigger an anxiety deeply rooted in the harrowing moment I learned of my father’s passing. From our apartment, I would intently watch him make the short journey across the street to the store and back, my heart heavy with an irrational fear that he might not return. Every departure came with the haunting anticipation of a phone call bearing the worst news. This perpetual state of anxiety was put into stark perspective when a graduate school professor said, “This isn’t any way to live; you need to address this,” during our group counseling class.

This constant dread of abandonment had become a relentless companion in my daily life, a normalcy I had inadvertently accepted. It was then that I began to deeply reflect on the profound impact of my father’s unexpected departure. While my conscious self did not perceive it as an act of abandonment, the vulnerable child within me felt otherwise.

In my friendships with women, I often saw reflections of the complex and unresolved dynamics I experienced with my mother. Echoes of verbal and emotional abuse, abandonment, and the constant fear of rejection manifested in my compulsion to be the ever-accommodating friend, always attending to others at the cost of neglecting myself.

As I matured, I began to recognize that the simmering anger of my twenties was intricately tied to how I was suppressing my genuine feelings. Instead of expressing myself, I was haunted by the belief that voicing my sentiments would lead to rejection.

Professionally, I was fortunate to have an exceptional clinical supervisor. Yet, I couldn’t help but project onto her the disappointments I associated with my mother, especially if I lagged in submitting my billing paperwork. When she’d gently ask for a commitment on the completion date, a sense of dread would grip me, and I became convinced that she harbored resentment for my tardiness.

But through her actions, she inadvertently provided a sanctuary for self-reflection. With her warmth, patience, and understanding, she consistently defied my braced expectations of hostility or the cold shoulder.

Eventually I had a stark realization: the shadows I perceived in these relationships were actually my own. It became essential to confront the specters of my past, those that resided in my own Pandora’s box. Diving into my Pandora’s box, I hit a real “what now?” moment: Do I take the leap and start healing, or just keep everyone else happy while I’m stuck listening to that same old inner voice telling me to play it safe in my relationships?

Unpacking the trauma and unwanted memories you have stored in your Pandora’s box is one of the most important steps you will take in your healing journey, and so we will return to this crucial practice at many points throughout the book. It won’t be easy, but pushing aside any fear or shame to sort through your Pandora’s box is a crucial, and incredibly rewarding, experience.