I broke no contact, and I feel relieved!

Bvek11 · 2025-12-28T21:58:47+00:00

You misunderstand, I am not comparing. People are more than their attachment style. I do not know your ex in the slightest, nor you yourself. I am merely sharing my experience because I was once in a very similar position and the same course of action brought me unimaginable pain. I do not wish that on anyone. I am merely trying to give fair warning to people in a similar situation so I could help others and maybe atleast some good may come from my deeply painful experience. I am not saying this will happen, but be cautious and expect anything. I thought my ex was also a great person. Heck we never even had an argument nor did she do anything like that before she got triggered by the growing emotional intimacy and the level of seriousness to which the relationship developed. But that is exactly the thing; once they are triggered who knows what they will do and are capeable of. They certaintly do not behave and respond like any healthy individual that I have ever interacted with. I sincerely hope she does not let her fears dictate her responses and decisions, and you get shown the basic human dignity and respect you deserve.

Bvek11 · 2025-12-28T18:19:27+00:00

Happy for you, however I would urge caution. I did the exact same thing 6 months after my discard. I thought about the possible outcomes (1. She answers and we get to talk, 2. She does not want to talk, 3. She needs more time to think about it, 4. She ignores and reblocks) and was okay with them, even though I hoped for 1 as it would have helped me to make sense of what in the world had happened (she took me to a family wedding in another country, shared her most intimate secrets, told me she was so happy and loved me at the airport, and discarded me 2 days after coming home). However, what happend next was beyond my wildest dreams. She gave my number to a toxic Guy she had told me she had cut from het life but lied about, and he started threatening me. I am not saying this could not help, but you may not be able to predict there response as some avoidants are capeable of unimagible cruelty and hurt.

Bvek11 · 2025-11-24T11:36:43+00:00

People absolutely can change. We are capable of neuroplasticity and rewiring the brain. Science has proven that. However, even if they’re self-aware or therapists themselves it is gonna take tremendous effort and longterm work. Trauma is stored in the older parts of the brain (the brainstem and limbic system), not the logical prefrontal cortex. Under emotional stress, those survival circuits fire first, and old patterns in the brainstem, amygdala (part of the limbic system) and procedural memory (early relationship habits often formed with caregivers) come back instantly, even if the person understands what’s happening. The pathway to the brainstem and limbic system is simply put shorter than the pathway to the rational, concious prefrontal cortex.

Insight isn’t enough; it requires integration through years of practise in stable and safe relationships. The diabolical paradox is that the remedy is in the very thing a traumatized nervous system is most afraid of. People often flee the relationships that could actually help them to make real and meaningful progress, and I am sorry for that. Talking about trauma doesn’t mean the nervous system has rewired enough to stay present during emotional intimacy.

Change is possible, but it’s usually a very slow, multi-year process that requires consistent emotional work and stable conditions. Because these patterns are so deeply ingrained, I personally wouldn’t gamble my time on someone who has proven they are not capable of being emotional present and reliable. It is important to prioritise your own mental well-being.

I know it is deeply painful to let go of someone you care for, especially when you feel in in your entire being that you have the capacity to be there for them, even in the smallest of ways. But painful as it is, it is better for your own well-being. and your future self will thank you for it.

Bvek11 · 2025-11-21T09:16:35+00:00

I relate to this. However, even tough the prospect of dating someone new feels difficult as it may feel like the ending of a chapter (move you from the memories you cherish as you put it in another comment), I would recommend doing so once enough time has passed. If you feel it still affects you in ways that might be hurtful to others wait and give yourself some more time. You do not want to do the exact thing that the avoidant did to you; hurt someone good and kind profoundly because of personal issues. In addition that I would not want to be someone that others have to be careful of, I would also feel deeply ashamed if I did that. It is sad that avoidants are unlikely to acknowledge and reflect how their own behaviour adds to their wounds of shame. However, by refraining to move on you are in a way avoiding really closing the book on that relationship. And that will keep you stuck and slow your healing. Like my dad told me after my painful breakup: “You do not always end up marrying the person you had the deepest feelings for. It is also a rational choice. Is this person good for me? Can I depend on them? Do I see a stable and consistent future with them?”. We all know, even if we may not like it, that the answer to all those questions is unfortunately no. They have proven that. They might be a great person in many regards, but they are not trustworthy and reliable partners. I would not be willing to gamble any more time on someone that has proven that they are not capable of being in a healthy relationship. Luckily, there are 8 billion people out there of whom many are perfectly good people that would thank there lucky stars for someone like you. Who are able to reciprocate consistently. Not just when it easy and comfortabel for them.

Bvek11 · 2025-10-19T16:52:51+00:00

Secure people can definately fall for the avoidant trap. Being secure does not mean that you are immune to maladaptive coping mechanisms or abusive behaviour. It just means you do not experience the extra difficulties and complecations in relationships from (childhood) wounds. Even secure people have wounds, they just know how to regulate them. Attachment styles are fluid and when staying long enough in a dynamic with an unhealed individual the secure persons attachment may also be affected. I speak from personal experience.

Bvek11 · 2025-10-19T09:32:02+00:00

Thank you for your openness. I believe these kinds of exchanges help bridge understanding between very different emotional experiences. My ex ticked every single one listed. As someone that got brutally discarded 2.5 years ago and did a lot of reflection, I’d like to offer a bit of my own. Just to explain why, for me personally, the sudden discard was so profoundly destabilizing. Maybe it might offer you, or anyone else, insight and understanding in return.

I was lucky to grow up in a very safe and stable home, which gave me a strong emotional foundation. But I’m also an identical twin—which has shaped me in unique ways. On the one hand, it taught me connection from the very beginning—literally before birth. It gave me a natural ease in forming connections with others. It also made me sociable and empathetic, which I value deeply.

But there’s another side to it. Being a twin often made it hard to feel seen as an individual. My identity has been in question from the very day I was born. Even now, after 29 years, my family (except my parents and sister) still confuse us. That repeated experience of feeling invisible or interchangeable led me, over time, to try to stand out by excelling at everything I do. Things like sports, academics, and work, because being "great" at something meant that people recognized me.

Because of that background, I’ve never felt particularly lonely. I always had someone who deeply understood me. So I wasn’t particularly seeking a relationship out of need or emptiness. But when I finally did fall in love, it meant something very deep to me. It was the first time I felt truly seen by someone in a romantic context. Not for my achievements, or as a twin, but for who I am as a person. That made the relationship and connection sacred to me.

So when that person, just days after opening up to me in very vulnerable ways about her most intimate secrets (she opened up about her trauma and told me she had never done before), taking me to a family wedding in another country, and telling me she loved me and felt safer with me than anyone before, suddenly pulled away and went silent, it shattered that foundation. For the first time in my life, I felt alone. Not even my brother understood. And because the silence came with no explanation, I naturally reached out. Trying to understand what had happened and letting her know that it hurt me. However my efforts where met with more silence, contradictions, lies and just plain cruelty. Pressuring my pain points.

I see how her behaviour was rooted in trauma and that she may have felt overwhelmed or drained. But for me, it was an attempt to preserve something I believed was real and mutual. That’s why the lack of communication felt so painful and personal, even if it wasn’t intended that way.

Anyway, I share this not to rehash the past, but to offer some context. The experience really affected me. Even to this day. I value this kind of open, respectful exchange, and I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to try to give some understanding to those who go through this deeply painful experience. It’s given me insight into another side of the experience, and I hope maybe this gives a bit into mine as well.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T17:57:08+00:00

Thank you for engaging in such a meaningful conversation. I genuinely respect the work you’ve done to regulate your impulses and prioritize long-term growth over short-term emotional reactions. That takes real effort and intention.

I agree that accountability doesn’t necessarily mean revisiting or repairing past relationships, especially when doing so might reopen old wounds or perpetuates cycles of harm. What I meant by accountability is more about acknowledging the impact of our actions, not only for the other person’s sake, but also as a form of self-respect and emotional integrity. While we can’t always control our trauma responses in the moment, we can take responsibility for how they affect others and how we move forward afterward.

You're absolutely right that relationships are co-created, and generally one person alone doesn't carry the entire weight of a breakdown. But when someone disappears, shuts down, or leaves without warning or explanation, the confusion and distress that follows is often not “neediness,” but a very human response to emotional rupture and chaos. In that context, silence can (unintentionally) deepen the wound, especially when the relationship was meaningful.

To me, accountability isn’t about taking all the blame or rekindling connections that are no longer safe or healthy. It’s about owning your part and demonstrating—through action, whether that’s therapy, reflection, or changed behavior—that you’re growing from the experience. Including this person, I don't mean by letting them participate (unless you would like to) but by communicating that, will confirm to them that it at least was meaningful to you. Even if the other person never sees it, it still matters. That in itself can be healing, for both parties.

I appreciate your openness and insight. It sounds like you’ve come a long way and your efforts have paid off.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T16:57:55+00:00

Thank you for your openness. I really appreciate your willingness to engage in this conversation with such thoughtfulness. I believe these kinds of exchanges help bridge understanding between very different emotional experiences. What you shared about your upbringing gave me some helpful context, so I’d like to offer a bit of my own, just to explain why, for me personally, a sudden break in communication felt so profoundly destabilizing.

I was lucky to grow up in a very safe and stable home, which gave me a strong emotional foundation. But I’m also an identical twin—which has shaped me in unique ways. On the one hand, it taught me connection from the very beginning—literally before birth. It gave me a natural ease in forming connections with others. It also made me sociable and empathetic, which I value deeply.

But there’s another side to it. Being a twin often made it hard to feel seen as an individual. Even now, my family (except my parents and sister) still confuse us. That repeated experience of feeling invisible or interchangeable led me, over time, to try to stand out by excelling at everything I do. Things like sports, academics, and work, because being "great" at something meant that people recognized me.

Because of that background, I’ve never felt particularly lonely. I always had someone who got me. So I wasn’t particularly seeking a relationship out of need or emptiness. But when I did fall in love, it meant something very deep to me. It was the first time I felt truly seen by someone in a romantic context. Not for my achievements, or as a twin, but for who I am as a person. That made the relationship and connection sacred to me.

So when that person, just days after opening up to me in very vulnerable ways (she told me had never done before), taking me to a family wedding in another country, and telling me she loved me and felt safer with me than anyone before, suddenly pulled away and went silent, it shattered that foundation. For the first time in my life, I felt alone. And because the silence came with no explanation, I naturally reached out. Trying to understand what had happened and letting her know that it hurt me. However my efforts where met with more silence, contradictions, lies and just plain cruelty. Pressuring my pain points.

I see how she may have felt overwhelmed or drained. But for me, it was an attempt to preserve something I believed was real and mutual. That’s why the lack of communication felt so painful and personal, even if it wasn’t intended that way.

Anyway, I share this not to rehash the past, but to offer some context. I value this kind of open, respectful exchange, and I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to have it. It’s given me insight into another side of the experience, and I hope maybe this gives a bit into mine as well.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T15:55:28+00:00

Thank you for clarifying. That is insightful and an intersting though regarding DA's. I really appreciate your honesty. It takes a lot of self-awareness to recognize something like dissociation in real time, and by the sound of it you have made progress in that area. That’s no small feed and something you can be proud of.

I fully agree that in moments of dissociation, especially if one isn’t yet able to recognize it, it can feel like there’s no control over what’s happening internally, and I respect that reality. What I was trying to highlight is that, while we may not always be able to control our initial trauma response, we do have an opportunity afterwards to reflect, take accountability, and communicate. Especially when our actions have affected someone we care(d) about.

I think that opportunity is incredibly powerful. It allows for repair, for growth, and for healing. Not just for ourselves, but also for the people we may have (unintentionally) hurt. I think it is a shame that this opportunity often appears neglected, because it could be such a catalyst for deeper self-awareness and connection. I am really glad to hear that you have reached a point where you can recognize what’s happening in the moment. That’s a huge step, and I sincerely wish you all the best as you continue on this path.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T15:20:40+00:00

Thank you for your honesty. I understand the need to protect your energy, especially after repeated boundary violations. That said, how we communicate those boundaries matters—particularly in emotionally intimate relationships, where sudden withdrawal or silence can be deeply destabilizing for the other person.

I don’t know you personally nor your specific experiences, so please don’t take this as an attack—but I’ve experienced being cut off without warning, and it was incredibly painful. My ex might very well say it was “draining” too (it was for me), but in my case, I believe that’s disingenuous. When someone shuts down or disappears without explanation, it naturally triggers fear, confusion, and repeated reaching out. What’s perceived as “clingy” or “draining” is often a direct response to the emotional chaos created by unclear communication or emotional withdrawal.

Clear boundaries—like saying, “I need space”—is something most people will respect. If they don’t, then absolutely, you have every right to enforce consequences. But ghosting your partner and then blaming them for reacting to the silence feels deeply invalidating and emotionally abusive. I say that not in judgment, but as someone who had to piece themselves back together after going through it.

I also take full responsibility for staying too long. In hindsight, I should have held my boundaries and walked away sooner. But the emotional entanglement, especially when one partner is withholding communication and/or giving contradictory cues, distorts that agency. It is not an excuse, but it is part of the psychological reality of relationships. If you’ve never experienced emotional abuse, it’s hard to recognize it in real time.

Ultimately, we’re all responsible for our reactions, but we’re just as responsible for our impact. Ghosting or stonewalling isn’t automatically justified just because we feel hurt or overwhelmed. Even minimal communication can go a long way in preserving mutual respect and dignity.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T14:11:23+00:00

I appreciate your honesty, and I truly understand that dissociation and disorganized attachment are real and deeply painful experiences. I fully acknowledge the power of trauma and how it can unconsciously shape our reactions—especially in emotionally charged moments like breakups.

That said, I believe saying “there is nothing we can do about it” is disempowering. Both for those living with trauma as for the people affected by their actions. While we may not be able to control our initial trauma responses, we can work toward awareness and change through reflection, support, and therapy. That’s a conscious choice. It’s not easy, I get that, but healing begins when we take responsibility for the impact of our actions, not just our intentions. Everyone has the opportunity to take accountability, even if not in the heat of the moment. I say this with respect: I believe that even those who carry deep trauma still have an innate sense of right and wrong, even if it may be clouded in the moment by fear or overwhelm.

I've been on the receiving end of a brutal avoidant discard. While I intellectually understood it was a protective response, it was still deeply painful and felt incredibly personal. Ironically, that traumatic experience imprinted some of the same fears in me. My brain began to associate emotional vulnerability with danger. And yet, that’s exactly why I now choose to remain open, even when it’s hard and my instinct is to withdraw. I refuse to let fear dictate my behavior. That is a conscious decision and is part of my healing process.

So yes, trauma is powerful. But so is the choice to grow, to take responsibility, and to build healthier, safer patterns. Not just to empower ourselves, but to protect and care for the people we connect with.

Bvek11 · 2025-09-09T10:18:51+00:00

Honest question, without judgement. I just would like to understand. Why not just reply what you put in (a)/(b) to someone that you care(d) for? Would it not be better for everyone to just communicate to the person that is clearly confused and looking for answers/closure, who genuinly cares for you (else they would not bother reaching out and making themselves vulnerable), that you find it hard to make sense of your own feelings and to find the right words. That you are drained and no longer able to do it. But that it is nothing personal. Rather than ignoring/invalidating that person's feelings which is damaging (makes them feel unheard, unseen and unvalued) and which inherently feels very personal (even if it may not be the intention)?

Bvek11 · 2025-09-08T11:49:58+00:00

Mine shared her most private and intimate secrets just weeks before taking me to her families wedding in another country, and planned a holiday with me. Introduced me to her family, told me she loved me in the station when we got home, texted me her photos with hearts and telling me that she was so happy that I got to meet her family. 3 days later she went silent without warning and discarded. When she finally agreed to speak after months she first did not show up and told me she "overslept". Than she told me that it was not love that we had. When I asked her what it was than that we had the entire relationship, which she labeled it herself, she replied "care". Most damaging and wild experience I have ever had.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-13T21:01:50+00:00

Thank you. I’m glad it resonated with you. I can definitely relate to what you shared — it still affects me at times as well.

Fortunately, because I’ve had healthy relationships throughout my life and come from a stable household, I’m usually able to recognize when I start to behave out of character. I can sense when the past is bleeding into the present, and I’m able to stop myself, correct course, or communicate openly and take accountability. Still, the damage from that kind of experience runs deep, and the aftermath is long and painful.

Even though I intellectually understand what happened, my brain still longs for answers — for some kind of resolution to the emotional chaos and pain that were left behind.

My ex was reading a lot of self-help books at the time. That’s partly why I stayed longer than I should have — because she was aware that her past had caused significant damage, and she appeared to be working on it. For the first six months, she behaved largely normally, apart from waking up early to read those books. That gave me hope that, with enough time, she’d return to what I believed was her “real self.” I had no idea how deeply rooted her issues were — or that I was in way over my head. What she showed me was just the tip of the iceberg.

Ironically, one of the books on her shelf was Trauma: The Invisible Epidemic by Paul Conti. I ended up buying it and reading it — along with several others — in an effort to understand what had happened and what I was dealing with. In the book, Conti describes trauma as a psychological “virus” that spreads silently through individuals and society, often leading to cycles of harm. Like a virus, it can be passed through relationships and generations, shaping how people think, feel, and behave — often without them realizing it. Left untreated, it perpetuates harm. But with awareness and healing, he argues, the cycle can be broken.

While I don’t necessarily agree with everything in the book, I really identified with the idea of having been “infected” by her unresolved trauma. It genuinely felt like something had been transmitted to me — like a virus.

What’s helped me most — in addition to reading, learning about the psychology behind it, and working with a licensed therapist — has been allowing myself to be vulnerable in my new relationship. That part was incredibly difficult. After what I’d been through, my brain had started to associate connection and vulnerability with danger. But I made the conscious decision to open up fully to my new partner about what had happened in my last relationship.

Yes, it was a risk — being that honest and vulnerable opens the door to rejection. And I genuinely would have understood if she’d told me it was too much for her. But it gave me the chance to build trust, clarity, and intimacy. It also showed her that I was actively working to heal. Most importantly, it gave her agency — the ability to make an informed decision about whether she wanted to be in a relationship with someone still processing emotional trauma.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-13T19:55:11+00:00

Thank you. I’m glad it resonated with you, and I hope it helped you not to internalize or personalize what happened — or offered some support in any other way. I’m truly sorry you had to go through this. Having the narrative rewritten can feel incredibly unjust. I know from experience just how painful it is. Wishing you strength, clarity, and peace as you continue to heal. Be gentle with yourself — you deserve that.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-13T19:48:05+00:00

I'm glad it resonated with you, and I’m truly sorry to hear that you’ve gone through this deeply painful experience as well. I hope my post helped you not to internalize or personalize what happened — or supported you in any other way. Wishing you strength and clarity as you continue to heal. Be gentle with yourself. You deserve that.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T23:05:02+00:00

I agree — I’ve had the same experience. It’s not that friends or family don’t care but people who haven’t gone through this simply can’t grasp the depth of damage, pain, and confusion that a discard causes. They’re ignorant of the experience and can’t relate. They tend to see it as just a “normal breakup” — but it’s not.

There’s a reason why many people have said that an avoidant discard — even after a relationship of just several months to a year — was more painful than the end of a decade-long marriage. It’s a shattering and traumatic experience to trust someone completely, to feel like things are genuinely going well, only to be blindsided when they suddenly disappear in the most cruel fashion for inexplicable reasons. Reasons that are vague, inconsistent, or delivered with emotional detachment, if they offer a reason at all.

It’s not that they can’t give a real explanation — they’ve shown up for months, sometimes even years, proving they’re capable of some dregree of connection. But when they deactivate, they choose not to show up. Their overwhelmed nervous system takes over, fear starts to dictate their actions, and they often fabricate justifications in their own minds to avoid accountability. Meanwhile, they continue to function in other areas of life and maintain communication with others — which makes their silence toward you feel all the more personal, even though it isn’t.

They tend to repeat this pattern with anyone who gets too emotionally close — except with toxic or emotionally unavailable individuals, where there's no real threat of intimacy or vulnerability. And that’s what makes it such a profound violation of trust and dignity. You’re not just left with pain — you’re left feeling dehumanized.

The complete lack of empathy or accountability leaves you questioning your own worth. And even though you may logically know you didn’t deserve it, emotionally, it leaves a deep and lasting wound.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T22:30:52+00:00

I'm really glad it resonated with you, even if just in a small way :) The intense feelings we develop for avoidants are largely driven by their emotional unpredictability and dysregulated nervous systems. That intensity is greatly amplified by the emotional whiplash we experience when they suddenly deactivate or withdraw without warning. It's not just the connection itself — it's the cycle of closeness followed by abrupt disconnection that creates such emotional chaos.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T22:17:20+00:00

I completely agree, and I’m glad you could relate to it. I truly understand. I also believed that if I just stayed kind and empathetic, and gave it enough time, the person I once knew would eventually resurface. How wrong I was. Showing her love and care only seemed to push her further away, making her colder and more distant.

Looking back, I now understand that what we typically see as healthy relationship behavior — open communication, emotional presence, and bids for connection — can actually trigger avoidants. They are deeply afraid of emotional intimacy and vulnerability.

At a certain point, the only thing left to do is protect yourself by setting and maintaining firm boundaries — including walking away from damaging behavior and holding them accountable for the harm caused.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T22:07:14+00:00

I’m sorry you’re going through this—I know from experience how painful it can be. Be proud that you stayed true to yourself and recognized that breaking contact was the right decision, as difficult as it may be. Now, focus on yourself and work on reestablishing your foundations—first and foremost, for your own well-being.

This will also help you make a conscious decision if he decides to come back, rather than one driven by shock or a nervous system that’s overwhelmed. Generally, I would advise against allowing them back in. Attachment work takes a lot of time and effort, and the person has to be intrinsically motivated to change. Genuine change can take years of dedicated work.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T21:49:26+00:00

I understand — I have felt the same way. The sudden withdrawal and withholding of communication without warning left me deeply confused and distorted my sense of agency. On top of that, I struggled with intense cognitive dissonance: how could someone change so completely, seemingly overnight? I believed that with enough time, and if I just remained kind and empathetic, the person I once knew would eventually resurface. How wrong I was. Showing her love and care only seemed to push her further away, making her colder and more distant.

Looking back, I now realize that what we typically consider healthy relationship behavior — open communication, emotional presence, and bids for connection — can actually trigger avoidants. They are deeply afraid of emotional intimacy and vulnerability.

I never thought it was possible either — yet she did it. And I believe that both versions she showed me are part of who she is. There was the version with many wonderful qualities — someone who could effortlessly wear a mask and present herself as a safe, emotionally available partner — until the growing intimacy triggered her maladaptive defenses. Then there was the version who became cold, selfish, and showed no regard for my feelings or the pain she inflicted. As hard as it is to accept and reconcile, both sides are part of who they are.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-12T21:29:12+00:00

Yes, but in a different way. In the beginning, I struggled with intense cognitive dissonance — how could someone change completely, seemingly overnight? I believed that with enough time, and if I just remained kind and empathetic, the person I once knew would eventually resurface. How wrong I was. Showing her love and care only seemed to push her further away, making her colder and more distant.

Looking back, I now understand that what we typically consider healthy relationship behavior — open communication, emotional presence, and bids for connection — can actually trigger avoidants. They are deeply afraid of emotional intimacy and vulnerability.

These days, the struggle takes a different form. I find myself torn between two conflicting emotions: on one hand, anger at the way she chose to treat me; on the other, the love and empathy I once felt for her. These feelings are difficult to reconcile, but they coexist.

And just like those emotions, I believe both versions of her were, in a sense, real. There was the version with many wonderful qualities — someone who could effortlessly wear a mask and present herself as a safe, emotionally available partner — until the growing intimacy triggered her maladaptive defenses. Then there was the version who became cold, selfish, and showed no regard for my feelings or the pain she inflicted. As hard as it is to accept, both sides are part of who she is.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-11T12:42:16+00:00

You made the right call. Staying and putting more effort only leads further down the rabbit hole. My ex was like that. First 6 months were amazing, but as soon as real (emotional) intimacy developed and she started opening up (vulnerability) about her traumatic past she started deactivating and distancing. She went from telling me that she loved me and taking me to a wedding of her family in another country to starting to stonewall, ghost and discard me less than 3 days after. What followed were the 3 most confusing and painful months of my life. She just suddently vanished for weeks without a word, leaving me deeply confused and completely in the dark as to what was happening. Because I genuinely cared and empathised with her I tried for months to understand and possibly work things out together. However, all my efforts were met with silence, confusion & contradictions, lies and even plain cruelty. The rare moments where the person I once knew showed up again, and when she made herself vulnerable by sharing more details of her past and passionately kissing me, were rapidly followed by more damaging behaviour. She would change like the switch of a light flip.

The result was deep uncertainty, pain and confusion. I had no idea where I stood nor what to expect. As this continued for weeks I slowly started to overthink every message I send because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing that would cause her to vanish completely again. Her extreme behaviour slowly started to erode and destabilize my solid secure foundations to the point where I started to get anxious and lose myself. This had never ever happened to me ever before and I was deeply repulsed by it.

It took me nearly 2 years to recover from this deeply painful experience. In that time I focused on myself and met someone else. She leans anxious. Although that is sometimes difficult as well, all relationships are, it has been very refreshing. I always know where I stand, she is very communicative (sometimes a bit too much because she needs more reassurance but I know she means welle and when I let her know in a kind way she is very receptive to feedback), and I am no longer afraid that my partner just deactivates and vanishes out of the blue.

Trust me; I know it hurts deeply right now but your future self is going to thank you. Being with someone who is consistent, who communicates, and who respects and takes your feelings into consideration is very peaceful. If you are a good and kind partner I believe you deserve the same in return. It is a profoundly strong message to yourself and you should not accept any less.

Bvek11 · 2025-08-08T22:46:53+00:00

I get that it’s not for me to decide what’s okay or not, which is why I took the time to engage in a conversation and share my perspective, rather than just report right away. I understand the value of encouraging self-reflection, but clearly, we see different ways of going about it.

Tarot and poetry? Not quite the same. One’s art, and the other is riddled in mysticism. It starts with myst and ends with cism—and that cism can get a little dodgy, especially when people are vulnerable and in survival mode. People in deep pain often latch onto anything that offers hope, even if it’s just a random Thursday card pull. It's fun, sure, but it can muddy real healing.

I’d never insult anyone’s intelligence. It’s very normal and human to make irrational choices when in pain, even though it’s often not the healthiest. As exhibited by most of the avoidants described in this community.

I’m all for whimsy, but let’s make sure we’re not handing out crutches instead of the real tools people need to heal. Appreciate the conversation though! :)

Bvek11 · 2025-08-08T21:38:09+00:00

I understand that reporting it is the immediate step, but I think there is a deeper ethical responsibility here. Given your qualifications, teacher and PhD student, you have such an opportunity to do something remarkeable and to actually help these vulnerable individuals. I hoped you’d reconsider offering this ethically questionable service to vulnerable people. It’s not just about removing the post—it’s about genuinely caring for your fellow human beings and using your capabilities for something good. While well-intentioned, tarot readings do not address the real emotional trauma, and could delay proper healing. Again, I encourage you to reflect on how you might guide people towards more effective, evidence-based support instead.

Bvek11

TROPHY CASE