broken heart, celibacy, life, love, relationships, thoughts

The place you occupy

One of my friends told me he didn’t feel home when he was with his ex. “My mother, who came to visit me, once told me she was sad to see I only had 8 meter square of my own possession in the house I used to share with my ex” he said. His old house was more than 200 meter square.

Now he’s single again, he’s very happy to buy his own furniture for his new apartment he just bought. I offered him a long time ago some paints of his favorite artists, but he never put them in his old house, as his ex told him she didn’t like those paints. “I love them” he said. “It will be the first things I will put in my new apartment” he added.

I have also several objects I received as a gift from my friends. I can understand how heartbreaking it can be if I had to put those in a box because my significant other didn’t approve.

Do we have to sacrifice those little things important to us to please the one we love? I don’t think so.  My friend let his ex have the upper hand on his life. No wonder he felt suffocated after five years with her.  He told me he feared her, because she could turn very aggressive with him for no reason. Needless to say, she also felt superior to him. Contempt is the number one sign of a relationship trouble, says University of Washington psychologist John Gottman.

His relationship was abusive. If she really loved him, she would accept him as he is. Instead, she tried to control him. She used his influence to raise her social profile. Many times, he would call me to say how unhappy he was with her. He told me several times he wanted to leave her, but he changed his mind many times, until one day, he had enough. Last year, he came several times in my apartment just to chat with me, and joked he could hide here for a while. I welcome every of my friends in need, so I told him he could stay here. He didn’t want to.

I guess if you feel like living in a box when you’re in a relationship, it’s not a sign of a healthy relationship.






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