When Love Starts To Feel Like Survival
I used to think love was supposed to be difficult. Not just sometimes. I mean all the time. I thought it was normal to feel tired and overwhelmed and still call it love. I thought love meant trying harder, proving myself, staying even when I felt like I was disappearing a little at a time.
What I didn’t realize back then is that I had confused love with survival.
There is a type of relationship that is full of highs that feel like the most beautiful thing in the world. The kind of high that makes you believe everything is worth it. The apologies are sweet. The promises sound sincere. You start imagining a future because the good moments are that strong. They feel real.
But the lows feel like your soul is being pulled apart. Suddenly you are walking on eggshells in your own life. Every word you say has to be measured. Every move you make is being watched. Your peace becomes something you have to fight for inside of your own home or inside your own heart.
That is not love. That is survival.
Real love should not make your nervous system feel like you are constantly bracing for the next storm. And the sad part is that when you are in it, you keep telling yourself things like maybe if I just stay patient. Maybe if I love harder. Maybe if I don’t say anything today. Maybe if I don’t make any mistakes. Maybe then things will stay peaceful.
But the truth is the storm is not something outside of the relationship. The storm is the relationship.
I had to learn something that was painful to accept. If I have to lose myself to keep someone, then I am not being loved. I am just trying not to be abandoned. And that is not love.
Love should not require you to shrink. Love should not make you silence yourself to avoid conflict. Love should not make you feel scared to speak or breathe in peace. Love should not feel like you are responsible for someone else’s emotional stability.
Love should feel like steady peace. Not perfect. Not always easy. But steady.
And I know I am not the only woman who has felt this. There are so many women who are in relationships that feel like emotional survival. Women who love deeply. Women who are strong. Women who do not realize they are exhausted because they have gotten used to being drained. Women who don’t know how to leave or even if leaving is allowed.
So if you are reading this and you see yourself in it, I just want you to hear this clearly. You are not crazy. You are not dramatic. You are not the one who needs to try harder. You are not the problem.
You are just waking up to the truth.
And waking up is the first step to getting your life back.
I am not writing this because I have everything figured out. I am writing this because I am in the middle of figuring it out. And maybe you are too.
You deserve peace. You deserve a love that does not drain you. A love that allows you to breathe without asking permission. A love that lets you remain yourself.
I am choosing myself now. Slowly. Awkwardly. Uncomfortably. But intentionally.
I know it’s not easy to admit that things are wrong. I know it’s scary to think about leaving or even asking for help. But you don’t have to go through this alone. There are people who understand, people who can listen, and people who can help you find your peace.
If you’re in a situation like this or just need someone to talk to, you can reach out. You are not weak for asking. You are not weak for needing help. You are human, and you are worth it.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 or text 887-88
Loveisrespect (for controlling or abusive relationships): 1-866-331-9474
Find a local therapist or counselor who understands emotional abuse or trauma. Even one session can help you feel less trapped.
Reach out to someone you trust— a friend, family member, or mentor. Just talking about what’s happening can give you clarity.
You deserve safety, peace, and respect. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong.
One day this will not be a wound anymore. It will be part of my story. A story about how I chose to stop surviving and chose to live.
With peace and clarity,
Just Catrina
