He Took Everything... Now I’m Taking Myself Back

I didn’t miss him. I missed me. I missed the version of myself before he made me feel invisible. Before I had to second guess every word I said. Before I started apologizing for existing. I missed how I used to laugh. Loud, unfiltered. I missed how I used to dance in the kitchen with no one watching. I missed how my phone wasn’t a bomb waiting to explode with mood swings. He didn’t take just my time. He took my softness. My spark. My sleep. My safety. And when I tried to get it back, He gaslit me. Told me I was too emotional. Too much. Too loud. Too sensitive. So I began to shrink. To fit the version he could love. But here’s what no one tells you: The person you become for survival isn’t the one you were born to be.

The Loss No One Sees

Everyone talks about breakups like it’s the person you’re mourning. But really? It’s your self you’re grieving. You lose your glow. Your ease. Your trust. You start looking in the mirror wondering, Where did she go? The girl who used to dream big. Who wore bright colors and didn’t care if she stood out. Who loved without a calculator in her chest. It’s not that I wanted him back. I just wanted me back.

Step One: Admitting You Were Hurt

We’re taught to be strong. To post glow-up pics. To say things like “Thank God it’s over.” But that’s performance. The truth is, I cried over the girl I lost more than the man I left. I cried over how my voice got quieter. How I stopped writing. How I felt ugly in places I once called beautiful. I cried because I let love dim me. And the rage that followed was my body saying: No more.

Step Two: Naming the Damage

He didn’t hit me. But he wounded me in places therapy still can’t reach. He ignored my birthdays. Mocked my dreams. Dismissed my tears. And the worst part? He acted like I was lucky to have him. So I stayed. Thinking love was supposed to hurt sometimes. That real women stay and fix. But I wasn’t fixing a relationship. I was erasing myself.

Step Three: Rage is Sacred

The world fears angry women. But my rage saved me. I got angry that I forgot how it felt to wake up excited. That I couldn’t remember what peace sounded like. That I walked on eggshells in my own home. So I stopped apologizing. I let the rage turn into fire. Fire that burned the old life to ashes. And from those ashes, I started to build. Brick by brick. Habit by habit. Word by word.

Step Four: Reclaim the Rituals

I brought back morning tea with no phone. Scented candles. Belly laughs. Singing loudly and off-key. I called back the pieces of me he never appreciated. The silly. The spiritual. The sensual. I started wearing red lipstick again, not for attention, But because I loved the way it made me feel like fire.

Step Five: Let the Silence Heal You

There is a silence that breaks you, But there is also a silence that builds you. I stopped trying to fill the void with noise. I stopped posting things just to prove I was okay. Instead, I let the silence say: “I’m healing.” Not for him. But for the girl who never deserved what she tolerated.

Step Six: Write Her a Love Letter

Dear Me,

I’m sorry I believed them when they said you were too much. I’m sorry I loved him more than I loved you. I’m sorry I stayed. But I promise this: From now on, I will fight for you. I will choose you. Even when it's lonely. Even when it hurts. You are not too broken to bloom. You are not too late to start over. You are not too far gone to return to yourself.

Welcome back.

Step Seven: Become Unapologetically You

Now? I’m not scared to take up space. To say no. To raise my standards. I don’t explain why I left. Healing is not a group discussion. I stopped needing closure from people who knew they were hurting me. I became the closure. I don’t want them back. I want me back. And guess what? She’s here. Louder. Bolder. Unapologetically alive. And if you’re reading this Maybe it’s time you came back too. Not for them. For you.