How I Overcame My Past Relationships
Read Time: 5 Minutes
Words and image by Polly Jemima
I’ve never been at ease in my own skin. For as long as I can remember, I felt as though I wasn’t good enough. Good enough for whom, I am not sure. As a little girl I tried to model myself on others so that I fitted in, so that I was the same as everyone else, so that people loved me. As I grew into my teens, that feeling of not being at ease grew into something more.
I spent the last half of my teen years caught up in eating disorders, clouded with depression and full of self-hatred. I couldn’t see a way through, I was an expert at hiding how I felt and had no one that I could confide in. I could see no future ahead of me, no matter how hard I tried.
When I was 20, I took an overdose. Thankfully, a classmate guessed, told my tutor and I got to hospital in time. Afterwards I was lost, but there was a boy who I had become friendly with who was there for me. He was the only person I had, the first person I had ever confided in with how I really felt. Six months later we were married and expecting a baby.
I pushed all of my feelings about myself down, boxed them in and focused on being a wife and a mum. Three more babies followed that first one, for the most part I did a good job of keeping the lid on the box of my feelings. Occasionally it would spring open, and I’d have a period of depression and struggling with disordered eating, and feelings of self-hatred. I always managed to force everything back inside, and ‘pull myself together’ though.
Fourteen years after we had gotten married, I found out my husband had been unfaithful. That, coupled with his admission that he had been unhappy for years, hadn’t really wanted a family, didn’t want me, broke me.
Overnight I crumbled. I could no longer keep the box shut and everything flew out. All of those old feelings about not being good enough, thin enough, pretty enough, funny enough, clever enough, all rose back up. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I felt like I was wading through thick mud. No longer able to keep the pretense up that all was fine, I fell apart entirely. The next six months were a blur. I drank to try and numb, to try and sleep, to exert some control on a world that had lost its footing. I barely ate, seeking the comfort of old habits once more.
To the outside world, I was a newly single mum, doing an amazing job of keeping everything going. The kids were loved and cared for, the house ran like clockwork, I kept on working. The internal struggle was real – I once again hated every fiber of my being. I shut the world out, keeping everyone at arm’s length.
Six months after my marriage ended, slowly I began to come out of the dark. The next twelve months were spent trying to rebuild myself. To find some compassion for myself.
I started speaking my truths, acknowledging publicly on my blog and social media the struggles I had. Talking helped. Realizing that the way I saw myself wasn’t necessarily how others saw me. That others saw a strong, beautiful woman, who had walked through the fire and come out the other side.
Eighteen months after my world fell apart, teetering on new optimism, I met somebody new. The first few weeks were amazing. We were on the same wavelength, liked the same things, had the same goals. He bombarded me with love and affection. I believed that I had found my happily ever after. I was so happy to have someone who loved me.
Six weeks in, and the cracks started to appear. If I did or said the wrong thing, he’d sulk, disappear, give me the silent treatment. If I tried to talk to him about it, I was told I was being paranoid, that my past experiences were clouding my judgement, that it was me not him. I began to doubt myself, ignoring that squirmy feeling in my gut that this wasn’t right.
Rapidly things went from bad to worse. He threw away my birth control. He’d yell and shout at me if I disagreed with him. He insisted he be with me 24/7, he’d take offense if I wanted to do something without him. I had to sleep wrapped in his arms every night. He was incredibly controlling and emotionally manipulative. I was exhausted. Scared. Lost. Confused.
The first time he hit me, I was in shock. He cried and told me it would never happen again, and he was sorry. I believed him, but of course it happened again. And again. Five months after we met, I was pregnant and finally found proof that he had lied about every singe thing he had ever told me. My pregnancy gave me the courage I needed to stand up for myself. I managed to extract myself from the relationship, and then found out that he had been violent to his past girlfriend and his whole life was built on lies.
The next few months were spent trying to rebuild my life. My confidence was shattered, as was my trust in other people. Finding myself single and pregnant was a shock. By the time my baby was born, I had licked my wounds and found a strength to keep going. Knowing I was solely responsible for this new life in my arms was kickstart to get my life in order for once and for all. I have been through so much trauma in my life, but I could see that this was my chance for a fresh start. A chance to let go of my old ways of coping and to truly create a life that I love.
Two years after the end of that relationship, and I am finally free from a lifetime of self-hatred. I have worked tirelessly through my issues, challenging old thought patterns and beliefs, doing the work to heal myself.
I am now a single mama to five children. I work as a writer, a social media manager, and have just trained as a life coach. I am solely financially responsible for the six of us. I’ve learned to stop letting fear rule my life, to step out of the trappings of my mind and just live. To set goals and work towards them. To have the belief in myself to put myself out there.
I am on a course of self-improvement. Everyday I am pushing myself further and further, challenging all of the old misconceptions that I held about myself. Finding forgiveness for myself, but also accountability. I am not willing to waste a single more minute in worrying - about how I look, about how other people see me, in what they think of me.
I am chasing my dreams. Not content to let life pass me by any longer, I am actively living life, seeking out new opportunities, being brave and learning to shout about what I am good at. Life looks so different to it did, so different to how I ever imagined it could look. Freedom is wonderful, after a lifetime being locked inside a prison of my own making, giving myself the key and unlocking the door was the moment I started living.
Life is scary. Life is tough. Life is beautiful and precious. I have finally realized that the only person I have to be good enough for – is myself.
My world is no longer grey and quiet. It is a riot of color and laughter. Full of friends and family, adventures and escapades. It is everything I ever dreamed of life being.
I am flying.
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About the Author:
Polly Jemima is a single mama of five, a writer, a coach, a life lover, a truth-teller and is passionate about helping other women to love themselves and create the life they want.
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