When it really is you, not them.

Let me begin by saying I untangle minds for a living. Naturally, most people assume I am entirely mentally and emotionally 'together'. Fun fact, I'm not. In truth, I'm as much a bundle of nerves, insecurities and messed up memories as the next person. And that's okay.

Until it's not.

Back when I was a young thing (let's call it late teens, early 20's), I was a sucker for one type of man: assholes. Somehow, I'd manage to zero in on the most emotionally deficit, apathetic, control freak I could find. The crueler and more demeaning the better. Sure, at that point in my life, I was at university, I was shy having left one of the smaller islands off the coast of Scotland for one of the biggest universities in the UK and I had very little self esteem. I was very much an outsider. Which isn't such a bad thing, if you're an outsider with a sturdy sense of self. So I'd attach myself to men who'd make life's decisions for me. It was just easier; almost as if by finding these bossy, dominant, psychologically abusive men would absolve me of any mistakes I should make. If I wasn't wearing the right thing, not my fault: I didn't pick the outfit. Getting fat? Couldn't really do anything about it, it was my man who was telling me when and what to eat. Drinking too much? Their fault. So, you can see how there's a two way street of badness going on. No one person can be blamed for this. That particular train wreck has both a pilot and a copilot, both of whom are culpable for the unfolding disaster.

Without going into too many details, despite spruiking the importance of self esteem, self respect and mental wellness, I was copilot in an inordinate number of train wrecks. I continued to accept poor treatment at the hands of my partners because, at the time, I knew no different. It had become a pattern of behaviour for me, one which I was in no hurry to address.

That is, until I met my current partner. This man literally knocked me off my feet one night, crashing violently into me with his skateboard. He apologised profusely in (very) broken English and we have glued to each other since that physically painful day - he ended up with a dislocated knee and I with a broken ankle.

In the very beginning, after the morphine had worn off, I saw this man, this incredibly good looking Brazilian man, dressed like your standard skater. Cap, skate shoes, Vans shirt and skinny jeans. Despite his divine face, I immediately dismissed him as some immature thing who never left the 13 year old skater boy phase. Even after informed me he was, in fact, a professional skateboarder with several prominent sponsors, I still dismissed him as 'not my type'.

Thanks to the amnesiac effects of morphine and fentanyl, I can't really recall how we actually started, other than to say within a day or so, we were taking turns hobbling down the hospital corridors to spend every day together, laughing and talking via Google Translate.

Out of hospital was no different. We were still inseparable. Having never met a Brazilian before (they're not known to frequent the cold climes of Scotland), I was unaware of how passionate, loving, effervescent and tender they can be. Within two weeks of meeting, he'd said he loves me, our dates were full of physical touch, forehead kisses, hand holding, cuddling, laughter and (here's the problem) compliments.

He started complimenting me on my beauty. He was forever telling me I had a great butt. He'd support my work endeavours, my research papers, my general ideas. He'd cook our meals, he'd clean the house from top to bottom. When he'd receive a text on his phone, he'd ask me to open it and see who and what it was. If we were separated at night for any reason, he'd send me a goodnight text (yes, just goodnight and I love you, not where are you, who are you with type texts) and good morning texts waiting on my phone before I woke up. There was openness, honesty and complete personal accountability for the impact our actions had on each other.

In other words, I had never, ever experienced this kind of romantic relationship. Ever. Truthfully, it made me uncomfortable. The constant compliments. The way he'd gaze at me whenever we were talking. The way he made me feel like I was the only person who mattered. I immediately pegged it as a lie.

One night, I told him we needed to talk. I told him men as good looking as himself don't date women that look like me. Yes, really. I actually said that. I also told him that I didn't like that he called me his Barbie when I was far more Cabbage Patch Kid than the iconic blonde doll. I second guessed his motives for being with me, I questioned his feelings because he was too kind, too loving and too good.

He was utterly devastated. Crushed. I could see the horror in his face as he processed what I was saying to him. We sat in complete silence, staring at each other, unsure of our next steps.

My self worth was so absent, my self respect so lacking I was unable to comprehend that perhaps I was deserving of this man. Perhaps I wasn't ugly and useless and unworthy of love as I had come to believe.

In this instance, if this relationship fell apart, I was solely responsible. My past would have negatively impacted my present and indeed my future.

I have a great many patients whose present lives are suffering as a result of past misdeeds, poor treatment or childhood issues. Without a doubt, your past does create your present. We are, after all, the sum of our experiences. It's how we choose to learn, if we choose to learn, that becomes the greatest indicator of our future. People often say the first step, i.e. accepting we have a problem, is the hardest part. No. Just no. The hard part is accepting the responsibility for rectifying the problem. I accepted my head was a mess. I accepted the treatment that I had chosen to accept at the hands of my previous partners was a poor choice on my part. I also chose to accept responsibility for changing my thought patterns and behaviours. I could rebuild my self esteem (and only I could do that, relying on someone else to validate you is a slippery slope into deeper and more complex self esteem issues).

The good news is, you can control your future choices. You can rebuild yourself. You can be the person you want to be, a person who has a positive relationship with themselves, their partners or just people in general. It's all about acknowledging and accepting responsibility.