Talya is a UK-based content creator who focuses on connecting with young women navigating difficult relationships, emotional wellbeing, and personal growth. She shares honest, relatable content, including her experiences with ADHD and neurodivergence, to help others recognise unhealthy patterns, reconnect with themselves, choose themselves, and feel less alone.


When my ex-boyfriend Luke* and I finally split up, I felt free. Even just a week out of the relationship, the lightness I felt was indescribable. My anxiety was gone. My back wasn’t sore because my whole body was no longer constantly clenched up. The physical changes were like night and day.

We’d been together on and off for two years, after meeting through mutual friends. He was fun, funny, and, as everyone used to say, obsessed with me. I felt like I was being loved properly and seen for who I am for the first time. But it was always chaotic. Even at the beginning, it was very stop-start. Towards the end, we’d been breaking up and making up for a good six months. By then, I knew something was amiss and that I wasn’t happy, but it felt easier and less scary to be with him than without him.

We used to say we ran in nine-month cycles, so the first three months were solid and the last six were hell. I lived on my own, but he felt entitled to just turn up, even if I’d said he couldn’t come round. If I didn’t respond immediately, I’d get a barrage of texts about how much I didn’t love him. If I dropped a kiss on a text, that would start off another argument. A lot of the problems stemmed from jealousy: of the social circle I had, my personality, my humour, my ability to talk to anyone. He didn’t have any of that, and so I was his constant. It was a very codependent relationship — on both sides. But if I went out to see friends, he’d kick off. ‘Why aren’t I invited? It’s not fair that you get to go out and I don’t.’ It got to the point where I just stopped seeing friends; I stopped talking to people because it wasn’t worth the fight. It was easier to keep the boat stable rather than rocking it.

I could feel it in my whole body when he was around — I was tense, waiting for the next argument

I could feel it in my whole body when he was around — I was tense, I wasn’t eating, I was just on edge waiting for the next argument. If he walked in the room or if I got a message from it, I’d physically seize up. I just felt pure, never-ending anxiety.

But I made excuses for Luke’s behaviour and the way I was feeling a lot of the time. I’d tell friends he’s so lovely. The thing is, that was the potential I saw in him because I’d seen it at the start of our relationship. And he’d prove it sometimes. I’d come home after a massive argument and there’d be a jar full of love notes detailing everything he loves about me. It was so confusing. I’d think, ‘This person shows me so much love and care, maybe he just loses his temper sometimes — and that’s fine’. That’s how you rationalise it: he’s had a bad day at work, it’s just an argument. It’s dumbing down the behaviour to fit your reality and make it better in your head.

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I didn’t like the person I was when I was with him, either. Reactive abuse is so real because once you get to a point, you’ve got no control over the emotions that you display back because you’ve been pushed so far. I didn’t like how angry I’d become. I was short-tempered with everyone, including at work.

When I wasn’t at work, I’d just sit in bed all day, I’d just be silent because I thought if I say the wrong thing, it would cause a fight. I lost weight; I was physically and emotionally drained. There are photos of me from that time, and I’m smiling but you can just see that my eyes are empty. There was no light in my face. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed.

Luke had a lot of demons that I think, in hindsight, I wanted to fix, which is probably why I stayed the way I did during the first 12 months. I blamed his behaviour on these particular demons, and thought, ‘Well, once he solves these, we’ll be fine’. And we did take a break for a few weeks while he attempted to fix some of these issues. But those few weeks were absolute hell. I was devastated — I couldn’t sleep, he was all I thought about. He kept blocking and unblocking me; giving me the silent treatment, then reaching out again. It was all about control. But I was beside myself. I felt a sense of failure that I didn’t fix it and I couldn’t make it work.

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And so, even though I knew the relationship was bad, that was one of the reasons we got back together. Without him, I couldn’t imagine feeling happy again. But there was a lot of shame that came with going back, so I wouldn’t tell my friends if we had an argument because it was so embarrassing. I kept it all very private and protected him at all costs. That led to me growing distant from my friends. I missed my best friend’s hen party because he was kicking off with me and I just thought it’s better not to go.

My anxiety spiralled, I was gaunt and I withdrew in every way possible. Finally, something clicked and I realised I can’t waste another second of my life. So, I moved to the next town. I told Luke it was because of work, but really, I was planning my escape. Within a week of moving, the relationship was done. He left me alone. We had one final blow-up when he screamed down the phone at me, and I just said: ‘I’m done.’

My anxiety spiralled, I was gaunt and I withdrew in every way possible

A few months after we broke up, I took myself on a solo holiday. It was the first time in years I’d done anything for myself, and I just found this new confidence. I realised I’m okay. I still have wobbles and toxic traits that I’ve carried from the relationship, but now I can look back and know that the way he treated me wasn’t right.

I don’t miss him. I miss the person I was prior to being with him. I have grief for that person and for the two years I lost. I look at myself back then and I think, God, you were so sad. Why did you not leave sooner? Why did you not cut it off? Obviously, I wasn’t ready then. But I’m angry about how it’s changed me.

I now realise Luke was emotionally abusive. And I, like many women, didn’t realise I was in it until afterwards. Now, looking at my life I am happy, lighter and grateful for the people who supported me to come out the other side.

*Name has been changed

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Brit Dawson
Sex & Relationships Editor
Brit Dawson is Cosmopolitan UK's Sex & Relationships Editor. Her work mostly delves into sexual subcultures, sex work, women's rights, and sex and relationships, exploring how each intersects with technology, politics, and culture. Formerly a staff writer at Dazed and MEL Magazine, she's written for British GQ, The Face, Slate, and more. She's also interested in drugs, youth and pop culture, and books — so all the good stuff. Find Brit on Instagram, X, and LinkedIn.