Reclaiming My Voice: How I’m Learning to Love Myself After Years of Erosion

When I became newly separated it was like the floor fell away from me…

and my identity as MOM was all that was there. I had lost myself so deeply in a marriage and in motherhood.

When you’re with someone who chips away at your self-worth slowly—under the guise of charm, brilliance, fun, or ambition—you don’t always see the damage until you’re standing in the rubble.

I spent nine years with a man who was, on the surface, magnetic. People liked him, and we were radiant together. He was funny, social, successful, and we were popular at NYU, going to parties and events and art openings.

But behind closed doors, there was a different story. One that involved betrayal, emotional abandonment, a toxic relationship to women and sex, and a constant undermining of my worth. It wasn’t just his behavior that hurt me. It was the way I internalized it all. The way I believed it must be me.

And over time, I started to disappear.

I stopped trusting my voice.

I stopped trusting my needs.

I learned to put on a brave face, smile through pain, and never ask for too much.

The woman I was back then believed she had to earn love by enduring.

And she believed her pain wasn’t valid, because “at least he wasn’t physically abusive.”

But neglect is abuse. Manipulation is abuse. Gaslighting, silencing, objectification—all of it steals your soul, piece by piece.

Leaving wasn’t the end of the pain.

It was the beginning of my awakening.

It’s been a long road back to myself.

And I’m still walking it.

But now, something is different.

Now…I’m with a man who stays, and listens…

He holds me when I cry..

He listens when I speak up…

He holds my hand when I feel big feelings.

That’s new. And it’s powerful. It’s also, still challenging.

Because here’s the deeper truth: this isn’t just about love from someone else.

This is about how I’m learning to love myself—in real, tangible ways.

Through affirmations..

And through daily acts of care:

• Feeding myself real food that nourishes my body
  

• Getting off my phone and into nature with friends
  

• Saying no when something doesn’t feel right
  

• Choosing softness instead of self-punishment
  

• Creating space to cry, to stretch, to rest, to move
  

• Looking in the mirror and not criticizing, but witnessing & sending love

  
  

Self-love is not a mood. It’s a practice. A quiet revolution. A remembering.

I’m not writing this because I’ve arrived.

I’m writing it because I almost didn’t make it—and I know I’m not alone.

If you’re in the process of reclaiming your voice, please know:

Your pain is real.

Your healing is possible.

You are not broken. You were just buried. And you may be carrying pain that isn’t even yours.

I’m digging myself out, day by day.

And every act of care, every boundary honored, every truth spoken—it’s a seed.

This time, I’m growing something new.

Something rooted in my power.

And I promise to keep going.

With love. With grace. With my voice intact.

With love,

Lindsey