i used to think love was meant to hurt.

I used to think love was meant to hurt. That love was supposed to be something you earned, something you held onto tightly, even when it burned. I thought love was proving yourself over and over again, sacrificing your own happiness just to be chosen.

I didn’t know, back then, that real love doesn’t ask you to shrink. It doesn’t make you second-guess your worth. It doesn’t leave you bruised, whether that is physically, emotionally, or mentally.

But that’s what I learned in the arms of someone who claimed to love me.

It didn’t start with pain. It started with warmth, with sweet words that felt like home, with promises that wrapped around me like a safety net. He made me feel special, irreplaceable, like I had finally found someone who would never leave.

And then, slowly, almost so subtly I didn’t notice at first, the warmth turned cold.

The words became sharp. The love became something I had to prove. The safety net became a cage. I lost myself piece by piece, first my confidence, then my voice, then my ability to see myself outside of him at all.

I let the lies sink into my skin. You’re too much. You’re not enough. No one else will ever love you the way I do.

And I believed them.

Because when someone breaks you down long enough, you forget who you were before they rewrote your story.

I wish I could tell you I left the first time he hurt me. I wish I could say I saw the red flags and ran. But the truth is, I stayed. I stayed because I was young, because I was scared, because I thought leaving meant failing, because I thought maybe this was just what love was supposed to be.

I stayed until the day I realised I was disappearing. Until I looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognise the girl staring back at me.

And that’s when something shifted. Not all at once, not in a single, powerful moment—but in small whispers inside me that said, you deserve more.

So I left. Not because I felt strong, but because I knew if I stayed, I would lose myself completely.

Leaving didn’t heal me overnight. I carried the wounds long after I walked away. I had to unlearn the belief that love and pain belonged in the same sentence. I had to teach myself how to trust again, myself, my own voice, my own worth.

And now, after all these years, I know this: real love does not hurt you.

Real love does not take away your light, it nurtures it. It does not break you down, it builds you up. It does not make you feel small, unwanted, or unworthy, it reminds you, every single day, that you are already enough.

If you’re in a place where love feels like pain, I need you to know—this is not how your story ends. There is life beyond this. There is love beyond this. And most importantly, you exist beyond this.

One day, you will look back at this moment and see it for what it is—the part of your story where you chose you.

With love & support,

Shorina | Mindful Soul Collective

Holistic Counsellor, Wellbeing Coach & Business Mentor

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