Daily writing prompt

Which relationship has taught you the most about yourself?

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I was honest with her from the very beginning. I told her that, for me, building a relationship is a joint effort between two people—and that it extends beyond the feelings we have for one another. A relationship isn’t just about feelings; it has a pragmatic side, too: personalities, household chores, responsibilities, and behavioral patterns. If we don’t discuss these openly, our subconscious expectations will take the wheel, leading to avoidable conflicts and disappointments that inevitably alter the dynamic between us. She said that she understood and agreed.

But whenever I tried to bring up a practical issue for discussion, she simply avoided the conversation. She would stall, telling me she’d think about it, which never happened. Yet, in the end, she expected me to find a solution—and one that would satisfy her. The disconnect between what she said and what she actually did became increasingly apparent to me. I tried to talk about it. She avoided the conversation again.

Shortly after we shared wonderful moments together, I faced the first attempt to make me feel guilty—simply because I wasn’t mirroring her current emotional state. That state betrayed a void: the lack of self-worth that one tries to fill with someone else’s obedience—a pursuit that never brings true satisfaction. I refused to engage in this emotional blackmail and told her I would not take responsibility for her emotions. That was something I had stated at the very beginning, and something she had agreed to back then. But at that moment, she wasn’t satisfied with that; she tried even harder to make me feel guilty so she could get what she wanted from me—and get it immediately.

I refused. It wasn’t rude, but it was firm. She got angry. It happened several times, with her resentment growing in intensity. After the last occurence… the next day, she started deleting the photos where we were together and happy. Our last conversation began with her saying, “You need to take that photo off your wall, too.” She didn’t ask; she ordered me. Then she told me that this relationship had been a mistake from the very beginning. I didn’t dispute her claim, even though I didn’t believe it was true. I simply wished for her to find what she was looking for.

Because this is how I love: I give you the space to be yourself. To make your own choices. I support your freedom. But I do not submit to your will. Because if, for you, love means unconditionally submitting to your will, then I am not part of that. And that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. No, it simply means I accept you as you are, but I maintain my own boundaries. So I realized you aren’t interested in my point of view and stopped explaining anymore; you don’t want to hear my opinion—you want to dominate. And I do not obey just to be with you.

My will lacks the power to change your mind nor healing your childhood wounds. Yet I understand and respect it. I simply disagree to fulfill your desire. But you just cannot take “no” for an answer. So you seem to mistakenly call your ability to manipulate through emotions—to get your way—”strength.” I, however, consider manipulation inappropriate in an intimate relationship between two people, and my “no” keeps being “no” not because of my stubborness, but because of my beliefs. Do you really respect them?

This was a natural consequence of having different values. And most importantly—a different vision for the relationship itself. The love between us is real, but a relationship is impossible. Your story is about dominance & submission, while mine is about co-creation. They simply don’t fit together. We cannot write our story jointly.

My will has no power to change that, just as your will has no power to change my essence.