Dear Eva:

I wonder — have you sought professional help regarding your intrusive thoughts? I suffered from OCD for decades before receiving medical support (SSRI treatment), which brought me much relief from obsessive and intrusive thinking.

What you expressed here is not “annoying repetition” — it’s trauma echoing through your nervous system.

In this post, you described a partner who offered minimal emotional presence (“just asking so it’s asked”), gave crumbs of affection then withdrew, keeping you emotionally hooked. He avoided being seen with you socially, consistently prioritized others over you, and framed basic relational gestures as burdens or favors (“I even let you invite your friends…”).

This is not mutual care — it’s conditional engagement, where you were made to feel like you were asking too much for wanting basic emotional connection. Your valid needs were framed as unreasonable, making you feel guilty for expressing them.

His language flipped the script: he claimed you weren’t patient — despite you waiting five years for emotional availability. He implied you ruined the relationship by expressing frustration, ignoring the chronic neglect that led to it. He weaponized your emotional needs as unreasonable demands. This is emotional reversal: making you feel guilty for reacting to mistreatment.

As a result, you ended up blaming yourself: “Maybe if I hadn’t done this…”, “I ruined it again…”, “I’m such a chaos…” This is heartbreaking. You’ve absorbed the emotional labor, the responsibility, and the shame — internalizing the failure of the relationship as your fault. But in truth, you’ve been starved of reciprocity and respect.

Your pain is real, Eva. Your needs were not excessive. You are not “chaos.” You are someone who tried to love and be loved in a space that didn’t honor you.

With care and solidarity, Anita

Dear Eva,

I’m sorry you’re hurting and cannot stop thinking about him, even if rationally you know he wasn’t good for you.

He may have promised to change how he’s treating you, but those were just some cosmetic changes. There was no deeper awareness of why he should behave differently in a relationship, or that he is wrong in any way.

The way he phrased it “I allowed you to invite your friends” says a lot about his mindset: as if he is doing you a big favor and a big concession by treating you as an equal partner, rather than his subordinate, or even his property, or something to that effect.

His attitude and his mindset are very worrying, to be honest, and it’s not something he can change at will. Nor does he want to change it, since he believes there’s nothing wrong with him. So rest assured that he would always fall back on treating you like this – because that’s his “modus operandi”. That’s who he is.

He told you something very deceptive:

And in the end he told me that if I had been understanding, patient, there would have been no one like me, I would have been perfect.

Yeah right. Then why has he been hiding you from the world for 5 years?

This either shows his hypocrisy, or that he sincerely believes that a “perfect” partner is someone who is obedient and fulfills his wishes, while he can treat her like a doormat. Again, a very worrying (and toxic) mindset.

But I understand that even though you’re rationally aware of all of this, emotionally it’s still very hard for you to let him go. When we can’t let go emotionally, even though we know it rationally, it’s usually something to do with our inner child.

The inner child is a part of us that carries our longing to be loved, appreciated, validated, seen as special,etc. We should ideally get all those needs met in our childhood, by our parents or caretakers.

But when this doesn’t happen, those unmet needs are still in us, and they cause us deep longing for those same things (love, appreciation, validation) – but not from our parents, but our romantic partner(s).

Often we get blinded by those longings, and even if we rationally know that the person isn’t good for us, our irrational part (our inner child) cannot let go. This could explain why you’re so attached to him, even if you know he’s not good for you.

This is just a suggestion, of course. It doesn’t mean it’s true for you. But if it rings true, we can talk about it more, if you’re interested.

Dear Eva,

I’m glad you find the concept of the inner child helpful. It certainly helped me achieve some significant healing, after some other methods haven’t succeeded.

The idea is that we as children have basic needs, both physical and emotional, and if those needs weren’t properly met by our parents or caretakers, we will have various consequences as adults. We might feel anxious, unworthy of love, believing we don’t deserve happiness. We might get involved in toxic relationships, looking for love from people unable to give it, etc.

Bottom line: we’ll have an unhealthy relationship with ourselves, believing that we’re not good enough. Our inner child will believe that, because that’s the message we’ve received while growing up. We’ll have the inner critical voice (so-called inner critic) constantly telling us that we’re bad and deficient, and our self-criticism will be really high.

To counter that, we need to go through a process called re-parenting, where we develop a positive relationship with ourselves and our inner child. Instead of bombarding ourselves with criticism and self-hatred, we need to develop a positive, supportive, compassionate inner voice, which would be equivalent to the voice of a good parent.

Instead of blaming ourselves all the time for our perceived failures, we have much more understanding and empathy for ourselves, even when we make mistakes. We tell ourselves that we’re good enough, that we’re lovable, that we’re worthy. Everything that a loving, supportive parent would say.

This process is described in more detail in a video titled “Reparenting” on Barbara Heffernan’s youtube channel (she is a psychotherapist and a coach). She is talking about our basic emotional needs and how to figure out if those needs were met or not, and what do if they were not.

Lots of love <3

Dear Eva:

I hope you’re feeling a bit steadier as you are reading this. I know these waves can be brutal, especially when you gave so much of yourself and still feel unseen.

I read your recent post and revisited your earlier ones, and what I see isn’t irrationality—it’s a nervous system in distress, shaped by an anxious attachment style and intensified by a painful relational pattern. What you’re experiencing isn’t weakness. It’s a response to:

* Intermittent Reinforcement: He offers crumbs of attention unpredictably, which keeps you emotionally tied to him.

* Emotional Withholding: His coldness and refusal to engage leave you chasing connection to soothe abandonment anxiety.

* Gaslighting and Reversal: Your valid needs are reframed as irrational, eroding your self-trust and amplifying self-blame.

This creates a cycle that’s not your fault—but it is exhausting: Longing → Protest → Rejection → Guilt → Longing again

You long for closeness, safety, and to feel important. (“Why doesn’t he ask how I am?”, “Why am I always last?”)->

You protest when the longing becomes unbearable—reaching out, asking for time, attention, or accountability. (“You never make time for me.”, “I feel invisible.”)->

Instead of meeting your protest with empathy, he rejects you—calling you dramatic, paranoid, or exhausting. (“You’re always fighting.”, “I can’t do this anymore.”)->

After the rejection, you spiral into guilt—wondering if you ruined everything by speaking up. (“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”, “I ruined it again.”)->

That guilt reactivates the longing. You crave resolution, want to fix it, feel the urge to reach out—even knowing it may hurt again. (“Maybe he’ll understand this time.”, “I just need to say one more thing.”)

And so the cycle begins again.

The way out isn’t to silence your protest—it’s to redirect it inward. Instead of pleading with him, speak up for yourself: “I deserve to be loved without begging.” “I will not explain my pain to someone who refuses to hear it.”

This is where healing begins—not by getting him to change, but by refusing to collapse into guilt for needing love.

If you’re ready, consider giving yourself the gift of silence, a No Contact with him—not as punishment, but as protection. Every message reopens the wound. You deserve peace. You deserve to be chosen by you.

Here’s a mantra you can use: “I do not reach out to be chosen. I choose myself by staying silent.”

And when the urge to text him rises, write it—but don’t send it. Let it be a letter to yourself. A ritual of release. A reminder that your voice is sacred, even when it’s trembling.

You are not too much. You are not the problem. You are someone who asked to be seen—and that is never a crime.

With care, Anita

* correction: because you’re giving him your attention