I've always loved deeply, often giving up my time or the things I cherish to bring happiness to others. In fact, I might even say I found joy in sacrificing precious moments if it meant making someone else happy. Eventually, my mental health and struggle with anxiety became nothing more than an obstacle to overcome in order to prioritize someone else's happiness. I hadn't always known this about myself, but only recently came to this discovery after breaking up with the guy who I thought was my soulmate. The devastation was painful, I was plagued with the questions of "why" and "how" could this have happened. Time wasted away as days were spent grasping onto moments of pure bliss and promises, only to be discarded by a boy who didn't know what he wanted.
It would be a lie to say that surrounding myself with friends and family didn’t help—it did, but only to a certain extent. While phone calls and small hangouts allowed my mind to attempt to stay present in the moment, the TV in my head refused to turn off, endlessly replaying our relationship like a broken channel stuck on repeat. And as with every rerun, you begin to notice details you missed before—small gestures, passing words, or fleeting expressions that seemed insignificant at the time but now felt heavy with unspoken meaning. I became both the viewer and the critic, pausing, rewinding, and replaying, obsessively analyzing every frame for a signal I had overlooked, some clue that might explain the sudden finale. But the static between scenes overwhelmed me, distorting every thought and stealing every inch of clarity. No matter how hard I tried to adjust the picture, the screen remained blurry, and I was left stranded in the noise, unable to make sense of the abrupt ending.
As the reruns slowed down, other moments began to fill the empty gaps. It was then I realized the TV in my mind hadn’t played other memories because there weren’t any left. I had pressed pause on my own life and threw out the remote. During our time together, I gave up the things I loved—more importantly, the things that defined me. I lost myself. I stopped swimming three times a week, writing poetry, painting, practicing yoga, and spending time with friends. I sacrificed my identity for someone else, but I promise, it will never happen again.
I will find myself again. I will prioritize myself again. I will find happiness again. The TV in my mind will slowly stop replaying those moments and begin showing new ones. So far, I’ve joined new clubs, spent more time with friends, started workout classes, and even found peace in being alone. Eventually, I’ll learn how to love again—but I will never sacrifice myself for someone else, especially not for a boy.
Suanne