Un-Enmesh

Walking on Eggshells

T. Jackson

I fell in love with my first girlfriend in math class, head over heels as I peeked at her from behind my algebra book. She had wavy brown hair and a laugh that resonated across the entire school. She smelled of lavender and smiled at everyone she encountered. The first time she smiled at me, I felt ready to sign our marriage certificate on the dotted line. 

We started dating the summer before our senior year, and my world grew much smaller, with her at the center, exactly where she belonged.

I would do anything for her, and over time, she came to understand this. 

I was young, idealistic, and convinced that devotion was the highest virtue in a relationship. That’s what all the movies taught me: be the nice guy, the dependable one, and everything would work out. I didn’t realize at the time that love without respect or balance can become a trap.

The warning signs appeared subtly at first. She asked where I was whenever I went out with my friends, became upset when she didn’t get her way, and asked that I give up my hobbies so we could spend more time together, claiming it would be romantic. 

But the red flags grew into a more horrific hue as years went on. Before long, she criticized everything I said, demanded to read my text messages, and questioned me each time I sent an email. She called me at work to ensure I was there and accused me of flirting with a waitress because, in her opinion, I had left a tip that was too high. 

She was like a drug, addicting and thrilling, but something that also came with regret and remorse. I tried to reassure her of my faithfulness, establish boundaries, and apologize for upsetting her. Mostly, I wanted to convince myself that she would change. I told myself that I was being loyal, that real men don’t walk away; they fight for the people they love. But I didn’t realize that fighting for someone shouldn’t mean fighting against yourself.

She didn’t change, of course, and the ground eventually became covered with eggshells. I couldn’t walk anywhere without stepping on one; all I could do was walk away.

Leaving wasn’t easy. It never is. There is no medal for walking out of a toxic situation, no parade. However, the peace I felt afterward told me everything I needed to know.

What I’ve Learned

I learned two main things from this experience. I realized that even minor warning signs are still warnings, relationship omens suggesting someone is mistreating you, taking advantage of you, or compromising your boundaries. You can ignore these warnings, but they rarely disappear; they tend to grow louder as the partnership progresses.

The other thing I learned is possibly the most brutal truth about relationships: No matter how much you love someone, you can’t change them; only they can change themselves. If it becomes clear that they’re unable or unwilling to change, you have no choice but to seek happiness elsewhere.

As men, we are often taught to endure, to remain silent, and to protect others at the expense of ourselves. However, true strength lies in knowing when to walk away and having the courage to start over.