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A hard lesson

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  • #446405
    Mei
    Participant

    Hello everyone,
    This is my first time posting, but today I really feel the need to share a story from my life a story that has become the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn so far. I’m still trying to make sense of everything: my role in the dynamics, the decisions I made, and what this experience is trying to teach me. I would deeply appreciate kind responses or stories from anyone who’s gone through something similar.

    The story begins with a breakup earlier this year, which felt like the final blow after a series of difficult life events. For some context, I immigrated with my family during my teenage years to a country where I barely spoke the language. Throughout high school, I was bullied, and my family, struggling with their own integration challenges, couldn’t provide the emotional support I needed. By the end of high school, I had become a shadow of the person I once was depressed, fearful of people, and overwhelmed by anxiety.

    College was supposed to be a new chapter. I moved to a different city and started a demanding degree. At seventeen, I had to support myself financially, manage my household, and keep up with a brutal academic schedule. I was socially awkward and isolated—until I met my best friend. She was extroverted, a social butterfly. Through her, I found a group where I finally felt like I belonged. I said yes to every plan, every spontaneous adventure, grateful to have people around me.

    By the end of our degrees, my best friend and I moved in together. We were like sisters—cooking, grocery shopping, laughing, and living side by side. But when our routines started to diverge, cracks began to show. Once she started dating her partner, I became the constant third wheel. He was always around at our apartment, at every activity and when I began to set boundaries, she responded with passive-aggressive remarks. When I brought this up, she told me outright that she knew her comments would hurt me—because she knew me so well. That was the first time I became afraid to fully trust her.

    At the same time, I was trying to date for the first time at 24. Most of the experiences were disheartening: I often ended up paying for everything, I was ghosted, or I was met with indifference toward any commitment. After about a year, I was ready to pause dating altogether—until one last date, which I went into with no expectations.

    But he surprised me. He was charming, funny, and grounded. He seemed motivated, passionate about his goals, and disciplined in his routine. He asked mature, thoughtful questions about what I wanted in a relationship and my communication style. After a month, I asked him to be my boyfriend—I was so excited. I told everyone, even made a silly list of date ideas. I wanted to include him in every part of my life.

    But my best friend wasn’t happy. She disliked him from the start and hated the idea of including him in our shared activities—despite having introduced her own partner into our lives very quickly just the year before.

    As our relationship progressed, I asked him to move out of the apartment he was still sharing with his ex. He agreed. He delayed choosing his thesis topic for months, stopped working his part-time job (since his parents supported him financially), and his fitness routine became inconsistent. But I accepted it—none of us are perfect, and I had my own issues to deal with: a a stressful job, a stressful home environment as the tension grew in my friendship.

    Being my first relationship, I tried my best to be a caring and independent partner. I planned dates and getaways, bought him little gifts, and genuinely enjoyed spending time with his family, who also really liked me.

    But intimacy became a painful issue. I never imagined that physical intimacy would be a challenge, especially at our age. I had no experience, no idea what was “normal,” and no idea how to talk about it. He once casually mentioned that if needed, he could go without intimacy for a long time—something I didn’t fully understand at the time. Seeking advice, I turned to my best friend, but her words only made things worse. Her relationship seemed so effortless, and her comparisons only deepened my insecurity.

    Our first major conflict revolved around unmet needs and the hope for compromise. Our arguments began to revolve exclusively around intimacy, creating a toxic pattern: I would express myself, and he would retreat into silence.

    After about six months, he began opening up emotionally. I told him I didn’t want to pressure him and was open to finding different solutions. I thought things would improve—but they didn’t. Our emotional and physical connection faded beneath the weight of daily stress: I was changing jobs and moving; he was finishing his degree and job hunting. Still, we committed to a fresh start together and planned to move to a new city.

    But the foundation continued to crumble. We weren’t emotionally or physically close anymore. At Christmas, during a double date with my best friend and her partner, her boyfriend noted how quickly mine had left—without so much as a kiss or hug goodbye. A few days later, I found myself begging for more than a peck. At that point, we hadn’t been intimate for over two months.

    Our final conversation was heartbreaking. I expressed my frustration—about his lack of initiative, lack of emotional and physical intimacy and how long he’d been putting off planning a trip he insisted we take. He gave me the silent treatment again. I cried through the night, lying beside him in silence. Neither of us said we were breaking up—but that was the end.

    For a month afterward, we had minimal contact. I missed him terribly and eventually asked to meet. I really wanted to reconcile. The meeting went well—at first—but once again, I was the only one talking about solutions. When the topic of intimacy came up, he told me that when he has to chase someone, he wants it—but when he’s in a relationship, he stops caring as much. I was stunned.

    That night, I nearly had a panic attack. He suggested we “date again” before getting back together, but later changed his mind. Then, out of nowhere, he texted me saying he still wanted me. I was confused and overwhelmed, so I asked for some space.

    Ten days later, after reflecting on my role in everything, I sent him an apology. He replied to tell me he was already in a new relationship—with someone “very special”—and asked me not to contact him again.

    That day broke me.
    This relationship—and its end—still weighs on me deeply. Some days I wonder if he ever truly liked me, as he didn’t even try to fight for us. Even though he was ready to commit to the long term goal of moving in together. It had me reeling for days. Some days I realize how little he ever opened up. I question whether I threw away my last chance to make things work last time he wrote. And other days, I simply miss him terribly. Seeing his favorite things, hearing his favorite songs—it all brings him back.

    But the hardest lesson? In trying so hard to make others happy, I abandoned myself. I stopped checking in with my own needs and well-being. I’m not a victim in this story, but I hope my experience encourages others to pause and reflect: Are you chasing validation at the cost of your peace?

    And finally—a topic that rarely gets talked about—issues around physical intimacy can profoundly affect relationships. Especially people under 30 don’t want to talk about it all. For us, it became a breaking point. Because we couldn’t open up and communicate about it, we never built the depth we needed to survive as a team.

    #446413
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Mei:

    I would like to reread your post in the morning (evening here). It will help me understand better if you explain a bit the nature of the physical intimacy problems, in general I’d not in detail. I’d you feel comfortable

    Regardless, I will be back to your thread in the morning, and I hope you will feel better soon!🦹‍♂️💛

    #446414
    anita
    Participant

    Excuse the typos and extra emoji I didn’t mean to send (using my phone)

    Anita

    #446421
    Alessa
    Participant

    Hi Mei

    I’m sorry to hear about the difficulties you experienced as an immigrant, as well as the difficulties with your flatmate and your ex. It is especially difficult with it being your first relationship. How are you feeling about the breakup now? ❤️

    It is a common difficulty in dating finding someone that has a compatible sexual drive. It doesn’t mean anything personal about yourself. Often people put more effort in at the beginning of dating, and less effort later on because the level of effort is unsustainable for them and they feel secure enough to do that. It creates some false expectations for what the relationship will be like in the future if you don’t have the mindset of expecting this change to occur. It wasn’t your fault, it was your first relationship and takes time to learn this lesson unless someone shares it with you.

    I will say that intimacy is a very sensitive topic for people. He was probably hurt whenever it was brought up. I understand that you felt hurt and rejected because he wasn’t as interested in sex.

    It is actually pretty common for one person to be the pursuer when it comes to intimacy in relationships.

    I feel like thinking of things as normal or abnormal when it comes to sex might cause some difficulties in the long run. Everyone is different and has different drives and preferences, it is important to be respectful of each others wishes.

    Different sexual drives is a common reason that relationships end. In the future you now know that this is an important issue for you and if someone’s drive isn’t similar to yours it is probably for the best to end the relationship.
    Or maybe over the time you will become more confident and understand that desires for intimacy are a personal tendency (he indicated that he had this difficulty in all relationships) and not a personal reflection on you. He seems like he was quite an avoidant person in general.

    Something that I found helpful is to consider the goal for communication. Is the goal to facilitate more sexual intimacy or to express your feelings? The two don’t have the same strategy. To facilitate intimacy positive communication may be more helpful.

    #446427
    Mei
    Participant

    I want to thank you both for your gentle support.

    @Anita
    : To answer your question, I’ll try to explain somewhat vaguely out of respect for my ex-partner’s privacy.

    In the beginning, intimacy was mutual, but after around the three-month mark, I found myself being the one who almost always initiated it—and often faced rejection. With everything else going on in life, that continued rejection hurt much more than I expected. I tried to find different compromises, which he would agree to during conversations, but when the moment came, he would usually pull back. This ongoing tension became the main source of conflict between us. It truly saddens me that neither of us had the tools to talk openly about such a delicate and important topic.

    Now, after the breakup, I’ve been reflecting a lot. I realize that the strain in this area, along with external pressures, clouded my judgment. I couldn’t fully appreciate him for who he was, and that has become my deepest regret. I think that’s why I miss him so much—not just as a partner, but as a person who was important in my life.

    What still hurts is how quickly he moved on to a new relationship. It’s hard not to question what our relationship meant to him, and whether it was ever as meaningful for him as it was for me. I understand that there’s no going back, and I respect his decision to move on—but I’m still in the process of healing, and I know I need more time to truly let go.

    How was your experience after your first breakup?

    #446434
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Mei:

    In your initial post, you wrote:

    “I’m still trying to make sense of everything—my role in the dynamics, the decisions I made, and what this experience is trying to teach me.”-

    I would like to help you make sense of what happened—your role in the dynamics, his role, and the broader lessons this experience may hold. I will also address the question you asked at the end of your second post.

    To do this, I will carefully reread what you’ve shared, reference your own words, and offer my thoughts—all with the hope of contributing to the understanding and clarity you seek.

    “At seventeen, I had to support myself financially, manage my household, and keep up with a brutal academic schedule.”-

    You didn’t wait for others to take care of you—you stepped up and managed everything on your own. At 17, you took on a leadership role in your own life, making difficult decisions and taking charge of your future with initiative, responsibility, and strength.

    Fast forward about seven years:

    “I asked him to be my boyfriend—I was so excited. I told everyone, even made a silly list of date ideas. I wanted to include him in every part of my life.”-

    You took on a leadership role in the relationship. Instead of waiting for him to ask, you made the first move, showing confidence and decisiveness. You actively planned the time together—making a list of date ideas demonstrates enthusiasm, thoughtfulness, and a desire to create meaningful experiences. Your proactive approach shaped the relationship dynamic, ensuring that effort, creativity, and connection were present—at least on your side.

    “As our relationship progressed, I asked him to move out of the apartment he was still sharing with his ex.”—A reasonable request, in line with your leadership role.

    “I planned dates and getaways, bought him little gifts.”—A leader.

    “I told him I didn’t want to pressure him and was open to finding different solutions.”—A collaborative leader.

    “The meeting went well—at first—but once again, I was the only one talking about solutions.”—A proactive leader.

    “In the beginning, intimacy was mutual, but after around the three-month mark, I found myself being the one who almost always initiated it.”—The initiating leader.

    “I tried to find different compromises, which he would agree to during conversations, but when the moment came, he would usually pull back.”-

    You took on the leadership role in problem-solving, emotional engagement, and intimacy discussions. You initiated compromise—actively seeking solutions and adjustments to make the relationship work. You guided conversations—your ex agreed to compromises in discussions, but you were the one bringing up the concerns and trying to find resolutions.

    He was passive rather than proactive—agreeing in words but not following through suggests avoidance, whereas you took the initiative to address challenges head-on.

    Your leadership stemmed from wanting a deeper connection and trying to sustain the relationship, but his withdrawal made it one-sided, leading to frustration and emotional exhaustion.

    It seems, Mei, that there was a fundamental clash between your leadership role and your ex’s avoidant attachment tendencies. You naturally took initiative, leading the relationship in planning, emotional connection, and problem-solving. Your ex, however, withdrew in moments that required engagement, avoiding discussions about intimacy and struggles rather than addressing them.

    This imbalance in effort may have made you feel alone in the relationship, while he may have felt pressured. People with avoidant attachment styles often feel overwhelmed by emotional closeness and struggle to maintain intimacy in a long-term relationship.
    Your desire for connection, consistency, and physical affection clashed with his tendency to retreat, leading to frustration on both sides.

    His statement—”When I have to chase, I want intimacy, but when I’m in a relationship, I stop caring.”—suggests he was more engaged in the pursuit rather than the emotional depth of partnership.

    You expressed yourself openly, trying to find compromises to strengthen the relationship. He agreed in conversation but then pulled back in action, creating a cycle where you felt unheard and emotionally neglected.

    His rapid transition into a new relationship suggests emotional detachment— instead of processing the breakup, he was seeking immediate validation elsewhere. You, on the other hand, reflected deeply, feeling the weight of self-abandonment and striving to understand the lessons from the relationship.

    A compatible partner for you would be someone who is emotionally secure & communicative— comfortable with open discussions about emotions, intimacy, and relationship dynamics; someone who is consistent & reliable—rather than withdrawing, he would actively engage in conversations and work through challenges with you.

    It’d be someone who is self-sufficient & driven—independent, responsible, and ambitious, making the relationship feel like a partnership rather than one-sided effort; someone who is reciprocal in effort & intimacy—since you tend to take the lead, a balanced partner would also initiate plans, affection, and deep conversations.

    It’d be someone who is emotionally mature—capable of handling relationship complexities with honesty, reflection, and emotional depth rather than avoidance.

    And that someone is not your ex.

    * A compatible partner for your ex would be someone who has a more independent attachment style—doesn’t need deep emotional engagement or frequent reassurance in a relationship; someone who doesn’t demand emotional or physical consistency—more accepting of distance and emotional fluctuations rather than seeking constant connection.

    It’d ne someone who prefers a low-maintenance dynamic—a relationship with fewer intense discussions where physical and emotional intimacy are not primary focuses; someone who doesn’t challenge avoidance patterns—rather than seeking clarity in discussions, she would be okay with non-confrontational dynamics.

    It’d be someone wo accepts surface-level romance—enjoys the initial excitement of relationships but doesn’t need profound emotional engagement long-term.

    And that someone is not you. I would say that the two of you were significantly incompatible.

    One more comment regarding this: “Our arguments began to revolve exclusively around intimacy, creating a toxic pattern: I would express myself, and he would retreat into silence.”-

    Arguing about physical intimacy—rather than having gentle, open discussions—is deeply damaging to both emotional and physical connection. When intimacy becomes a battleground instead of a shared experience, it kills emotional trust and can make physical closeness feel forced rather than organic. In other words, ARGUING about physical and emotional intimacy = Death of intimacy.

    I would love to read your thoughts about the above, Mei.

    You asked about my first breakup. My answer, however strange it may sound: I had no first breakup because I didn’t have a first relationship. At your age and much later, I wasn’t able to have a relationship. I was too sick, emotionally, to have one.

    anita

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