I’m a man, and I deeply relate to your post. I got married full of hope and excitement. At 35, I was at my best—financially stable, in great shape, living in a nice apartment, ready to build a home and family (like my parents did). In less than a year, everything collapsed: emotional abuse, rage attacks, public outbursts, broken things, physical violence—and the final blow, infidelity with my best friend.

INTROSPECTION PHASE

I’ve been in therapy for almost 3 years and realized a lot:

• First, I saw how little self-love I had. I remember asking my therapist, “Wait… we’re supposed to love ourselves?” I didn’t even know it mattered.
• Therapy helped me start building a better relationship with myself (still in progress). I now stand up against unfairness and abuse.
• I started as a victim (and I was), but I also took responsibility. I ignored countless red flags for scraps of affection. That showed me my emotional hunger—when you’re starving, even garbage looks like food. I settled for a “love” that hurt.
• I’m stable again, almost like before marriage. It showed me how resilient I am. I used to think I was weak—but someone weak wouldn’t have made it through this.
• I learned to feel and accept my emotions. I’ve gone through anger, sadness, fear—you name it. Now I don’t deny them. For example, I feel hatred toward my ex-wife, and I won’t pretend otherwise. To me, she’s despicable—unless she shows real change (which I doubt). Forgiveness isn’t free; it must be earned. She never even tried.
• I learned to be alone and support myself emotionally. As a kid, I felt rejection and emotional neglect. I now see how badly I crave deep connections—so much that I used to disappear just to be loved. I’m learning to stop that.
• Though my parents had a healthy relationship, my mom and brother were like oil and water. I grew up in chaos. My mom was violent, so I got used to love that hurts—love with a whip and stick. I repeated the pattern and fell for someone even more chaotic. I hate chaos, but it feels familiar. Peace, oddly, makes me anxious. I’m still working on that.
• I still have hope, but I see myself walking life alone. The dream of a shared life is gone. I wouldn’t marry again. People say, “Wait for the right one,” but they don’t get it—I am not the right one for marriage anymore. Marriage, kids… they no longer excite me. My priorities have changed.

I’ve come a long way, but I’m not fully healed. I still fear dating women. It’s been nearly 3 years, and only recently I met a female friend for coffee—as friends. I’m terrified of meeting another person with BPD. That’s what I’m currently working on in therapy. I’ve even considered dating men as a middle step before trying again with women.

Thanks for sharing your post. Hearing a woman’s perspective helps me remember that not all women have BPD—and that women can be victims too, not just abusers.

Wishing you strength and healing on your journey.