I Didn't Deserve the War | Emotional Abuse Aftermath

Even though I now know the truth,

that he had been a wolf in sheep’s clothing from the beginning,

for a while, I still thought it was me.

I replayed every word.

Every reaction.

Every moment I asked for more.

I wondered if I was too emotional,

too sensitive,

too needy.

I thought maybe I caused it,

this unraveling,

this coldness,

this shift from tenderness to devastation.

But now I know.

Now I see it clearly.

I didn’t deserve the war.

I came with open hands.

With belief in my chest

and light in my eyes.

I came with love,

not the kind that hides behind flattery or fear,

but the real kind.

The staying kind.

The see-you-and-still-choose-you kind.

I brought tenderness.

Curiosity.

Presence.

Loyalty.

I listened.

I adjusted.

I gave the benefit of the doubt.

I offered warmth even when I was cold inside.

I stayed when I was lonely.

I hoped when I was hurting.

I wore the diamonds he gave me

with pride.

With belief.

With the quiet ache of someone

who needed to feel safe

and thought maybe,

finally,

she was.

I let them rest against my skin

as if they were sacred.

Because I believed they meant something.

Safe. Warm. Loved.

Spoken like vows,

repeated like rituals.

But they were spells meant to soothe, not to keep.

They were not roots.

They were rope.

A hook buried deep in my heart.

And for all of it,

for daring to love without a shield,

I was drafted into a war I didn’t know existed.

A war of omission.

Of silence.

Of eyes that looked through me while swearing they saw me.

Of half-truths and withheld facts.

Of stolen safety.

Of false peace wrapped in charm.

I didn’t deserve a war.

I didn’t deserve to become collateral damage

in someone else’s battle with their own emptiness.

I didn’t deserve to be lied to,

gaslit,

dismissed,

compared,

and replaced

for the crime of loving deeply.

I didn’t deserve to question my own worth

because someone else couldn’t hold it.

Couldn’t meet it.

Couldn’t honor it.

I was not too needy.

I was never too needy.

My expectations were not outrageous.

My love was not a liability.

My heart was not wrong.

What I offered

was gold.

What I lived

was betrayals.

What I carry

is heartbreak and determination.

I didn’t deserve the war.

No one does.