Can someone really change you? I don’t like the idea of giving someone that power, but it makes sense when you think about it. Maybe that is why the scripture in 1 Corinthians 15:33 says “bad company will corrupt good character.” It’s naïve to think the people we surround ourselves with don’t have any impact on us.

I remember distinctively one of my exes saying to me, “you’ve changed.” And he was right. I had changed. And I didn’t like who I was becoming. The reality he didn’t want to face and the truth I didn’t want to admit was that I had adapted my behavior and actions to the way things had changed in our relationship. I could no longer be the same person I was once unless I chose to live in denial. It felt like survival of the fittest.

Two words I would use to describe my natural state and who I am at the core is joy and freedom. I trust freely until someone gives me a reason not to and then a wall the size of Taj Mahal goes up almost within an instant. As much as I am open, I’m equally guarded in that respect.

It started with finding out about an addiction he had been keeping from me. I had felt something was off, but I had no evidence to support the tension that had infiltrated our relationship. It some ways I felt validated after finding this out. Trust shaved slightly. I had convinced myself he was just scared of my reaction, that I maybe wouldn’t have given him a chance if I had known prior. It’s funny how we take on the responsibility of others’ actions when we aren’t quite ready to let go.

That was the beginning of the unraveling. The stories about his past and his reasoning behind certain decisions seemed to contradict one another. Misalignment marked our times with one another. Confusion and fighting trumped any moments of fleeting happiness. I think I was pushing for something that wasn’t even possible.

We often think about the last straw in a relationship, but I think those first straws are just as important, as they initiate doubt and plant seeds that another path may be possible, may be needed.

I was really struggling to connect emotionally with him. I had a hard time connecting these newfound truths to the person I thought I knew. But trying to connect proved futile and exhausting. I remember him clearly telling me he was like an onion, and I need to peel back the layers. The irony wasn’t lost in the analogy, as this process always left me in tears. I was becoming a nag. I was becoming pushy. I was becoming someone I did not like. And it was painful. However, in some sick way he liked it. I think it made him feel like I cared… but it was always at my expense.

I’ve learned that who we are becoming in a relationship is just as important as who they are becoming. Do they bring the best out in us? Do they make us better- do they make us want to be better?

Thankfully, I am back to my old self again. And hopefully, I’ll soon be better than who I am right now.