Taking Life with Chances

My fourth and most recent relationship ended about a month ago. We weren’t together for a long time, but I was sure this was it.

We had known each other for a while and had even tried once before, when the timing just wasn’t right. When we reconnected a little over a year ago, it felt like we had both arrived at a place individually where we could grow together — supporting each other in our own journeys while building something shared.

I was over the moon excited. He felt familiar. He made me feel physically safe in a way I had never experienced in a relationship before. We shared common dreams, talked about our future, and began planning a life that felt both hopeful and grounded.

We didn’t live in the same state, which meant a lot of travel back and forth — at least once a month. The distance came with challenges, but also allowed for us to keep things exciting. It felt like we were making it work.

This was also the first relationship I entered after doing some real work on myself in therapy. I found myself using the tools I had learned — setting healthier boundaries, communicating my needs more clearly, keeping my cool in moments that might have once overwhelmed me. I wasn’t perfect, but I liked the version of myself that showed up in this relationship. That alone felt like growth.

And then, during a disagreement, something shifted.

He disconnected a FaceTime call and didn’t answer when I reached back out. It’s something I’m still processing emotionally. The lack of closure has been hard — not fully understanding why, or what changed, leaves space for my mind to fill in the gaps.

What I do know is this: I don’t place the ending solely on myself. I showed up. I was willing to do the work, to grow together, to be vulnerable. That’s what makes this ending feel different — not because it hurts more, but because I recognize that I brought a healthier version of myself into it.

And I don’t want this experience to shut me down or close me off.

If anything, part of me feels ignited — not to rush into something new, but to stay open. To continue using the tools I’ve learned. To understand more deeply what my needs actually are.

One thing I learned clearly through this relationship is how important physical safety feels to me — and equally, how essential emotional safety is. One was present. The other, unfortunately, wasn’t fully met.

And maybe this is where the next part begins — not with answers, but with a deeper curiosity about how I continue to show up for myself moving forward.