In the past, I would overwhelm myself by shouldering the problems of others without having anyone to help me with my own. I felt obligated to because that’s what friends are for, right? But after a year of therapy, support workshops and self-help exercises I’ve come to learn no, that’s NOT what friends are for.

When I lacked boundaries and healthy communication skills, I allowed people to constantly trauma dump on me. These people were individuals I called “friends.” The thing about it is, they had no regard for MY mental/emotional wellbeing and would discard me once they felt better. Or if I attempted to be vulnerable around them they were “too busy”/unavailable.

Now that I have healthy boundaries, an understanding of my limitations and respect my limited capacity to receive negative information, I honour myself by asserting these boundaries and communicating these limitations to anyone I’m building rapport with.

Because if it’s something I’ve also learned, it’s that everyone’s definition of a friend looks different. For some, it’s someone you occasionally talk to, for others it’s what a person can do for them. Myself personally, a friend is someone I can share laughs with but also expect them to hold me accountable if I say/do something inappropriate. It’s me knowing I can also hold them accountable and that there can be healthy conflict without fallout. It’s sharing core values and interests, but also having differences and still getting along.

These days a lot of people don’t want friends, they want “fans” and “followers.” Individuals who’ll cosign on anything and everything they do regardless of it’s right or wrong. They don’t want to take responsibility or grow to better themselves, they don’t want to build long lasting relationships, just superficial and short term connections. They don’t want ACTUAL friends, they want therapists; people to dump things on, and because of that I’ll remain selective social and continue holding space with myself.

Yes, your friends should be there to support you in your time of need but they shouldn’t be treated like therapists. YES, your friends are loved ones and people apart of your support system but NO, they’re not qualified professionals to guide you through traumatic events and life experiences.

That’s why I’m tired of seeing the narrative, “You’re a bad friend/person if you don’t let your loved ones trauma dump on you!” because it’s so inconsiderate? Everyone has a life outside the friendships they build and that should be understood as well as respected.

Everybody’s capacity is different, and if you can’t take two seconds to ask if the person is in a well enough, mental and emotional head space to receive information that has the potential to be triggering then you’re not as good of a friend as you think. Your friends and loved ones shouldn’t feel “obligated” to be emotionally overwhelmed because they’re afraid you’ll accuse them of being uncaring.

Additionally, just because you might have the capacity to do it doesn’t mean you have to. It’s great that you’re looking out for your loved ones but it’s their responsibility to seek professional outlets that’ll accommodate their circumstances. People really don’t understand how that can put a strain on friendships, intentional or not. And I understand that receiving professional help is extremely difficult, but if you think your friends are therapists then you should re-evaluate yourself. While there are people comfortable with having this dynamic, others aren’t.

With me deciding to no longer be the therapist friend, it’s been QUIET. With me setting boundaries, it’s, “Oh Mitchel you’ve changed.” With me stepping away from anything that doesn’t positively serve me after respectfully communicating my disassociation, it’s, “Mitchel’s weird.”

I didn’t change nor am I weird, I just respect myself enough to no longer let people take advantage of me and they dislike it, but I’m okay with that. No longer being the therapist friend is one of the best things I’ve done for myself, and while I of course still support and advocate for others when possible, I do it in a way that doesn’t overwhelm me or invalidate them.

I’ve never been one to wish hurt or harm on others because I wouldn’t want someone wishing it on me. Every day I do my best to exercise kindness and extend grace whenever possible, however much like anything that can be measured on a scale, there’s a limit.

From childhood into adulthood I’ve suffered mental, emotional, physical and verbal abuse at the hands of the woman who birthed me and through that time, I was told to “forgive her” because she’s also traumatised. I was constantly told, “that’s your mother” in response to openly sharing I hate her because of the pain she caused me. And every time, I was gaslit into believing I was wrong for feeling the way I do and that because she’s “family” it’s no big deal.

Her giving me life doesn’t give her the right to be abusive nor does it give her the right to make mine hell because she’s also traumatised. Trauma being understandable doesn’t make mistreatment of others acceptable and you have me several shades of fucked up if you think I’m going to continue tolerating her abuse.

Even with me being in therapy and support workshops, utilising coping mechanisms when I feel overwhelmed and establishing boundaries, there’s no way we could have a parent-child relationship. She’s not going to change and with me trying I better myself that would only hinder my growth. Every day she makes it a point to trigger me and I’m done giving her grace and being understanding.

From the bottom of my heart I hate this woman and I truly hope she dies. She’s not my mother and never will be. Even if she decided to get her shit together no part of me wants to rekindle and maintain a relationship just because of how badly she traumatised me.

Family are supposed to love and support you. Challenge you in productive ways and protect you. They’re supposed to hold you accountable in situations of fault and educate you to be better. Families are supposed to be a support system and safe place but all of my relatives, starting with the woman who birthed me, are from it.

If me wishing death on them is wrong, so be it. Two wrongs don’t make a right but I’m tired of being told to “forgive and forget”, bypass it or not hold them accountable for their shitty behaviour.

Hi. I am a 22 year old depressed girl hoping to find some help here. 3 years back I was doing a couple of neck and jaw exercises. Something went wrong there and as a result I developed breathing problems, muscle problems and swallowing difficulties. I told my parents about my symptoms without telling them the cause of the onset [which I think are the exercises]. I've veen to a couple of doctors and I don't have the courage to tell then what happened. I just tell them about my symptoms and they say I have GAD. Even my mother, who should act as a support system for me, continuously breaks my soul by saying it's nothing and all of this is in my head. I was the perfect ideal girl but now I've grown thin and weak with bones sticking to my body. Everyone just comments on how thin I've become but doesn't look into why this is happening. Everyday I muster up the courage to get me through the day as my condition prevents me from doing any kind of work be it standing or sitting for long periods, leave physical exertion alone. I have no one to talk to and I cry everyday. I feel like my body is giving up on me and I won't be able to hold on anymore.

July 2022 was the year I decided to start doing things outside my comfort zone as an introvert, so it began with presenting more feminine and bar hopping. I brought two-tone wigs, revealing clothes and started wearing makeup. I began going on dates with people from media apps and was treated to tacos and margaritas every other day. Then, 2 weeks into August I met someone special. It was from that evening forward, August 17th, 2022, that my life would change in the most unexpected way.

It was half past 19:00 when I pulled up to a rooftop bar in my new, red and black two tone wig. I was dressed in all black; a cropped fishnet top with leather pants and eccentric punk makeup. I took a seat by the window and then… I saw him. My server. The man I briefly dated and the abuser who traumatised me. After placing a carafe of water at my table, he gave me a gentle smile and introduced himself. Post taking my order, I noticed his flirtatious expression in between passing, most to which I returned.

A few drinks later I worked up the courage to shoot my shot and asked for his number, after asking if he’d take a photo of me dining, both to which he surprisingly obliged. The next day we went on our first date. He picked me up at a nearby park early afternoon and we spent the evening getting to know one another over sushi and plum wine. Everything seemed fine at first but then his mask began to crack and before I knew it, the abuse began.

It started with the evening I initiated our relationship, August 24th, 2022, where we hopped bar after bar, and each time he’d force me to drink with him. It wasn’t long before my intoxication as he already had me drinking since 4pm; specifically Prosecco (11% alc.) and Geikkeikan Saké (15.6%). To spare details, once he noticed I was in a drunken stupor, he escorted me to his place and sexually assaulted me. To this day I have little to no recollection of the event; I only remember collapsing on the bed, wavering in and out of consciousness before passing out and coming to at the sight of him fastening his belt, telling me, “Come on, I have to take you home.”

It was that day moving forward this became a pattern; coercing me to drink until I’m drunk so he could assault me, but it didn’t stop there. I foolishly introduced him to my at the time best friend who he not only attempted to triangulate between us, but sexually harassed despite our protests and isolate me away from them and other members of support. Among trying to financially control me with encouragement to quit my at the time job and live with him, he simultaneously triangulated an at the time coworker of his. Whenever we were at bars, he’d blatantly flirt with other people. Additionally, he’d make racially insensitive about minorities despite being a minority himself.

Whenever I would hold him accountable for his inappropriate behaviour or inflammatory remarks, he’d gaslight me or play victim. He projected accusations of infidelity onto me despite cheating on me with his ex and several other people, then began badmouthing my loved ones. He’d purposefully arrange and cancel, deprive me of sleep, ignore text messages, violate my boundaries despite there being clear communication, and misgender me despite knowing I’m not a woman as he’s seen me without wigs and makeup.

Throughout all of the mistreatment I did my best to give him the benefit of the doubt because the moment I entered that “relationship”, I said to myself that I want to ensure I’m exercising all the proper avenues to ensure it works and that I’m practicing healthy communication. September 26th, 2022 was the day I had enough and blocked him on everything, effectively ending our relationship. At the time of us dating, for every “situation” that triggered me it was also communicated to a trusted loved one. September 26th is the day they spoke my truth on behalf of me. September 28th, 2022 is the day I came forth myself speaking my truth.

Not even a week later, I began finding myself descend into a state of despondency. I couldn’t get out of bed, I lost my appetite, I was impulsively spending to cope and I became incredibly isolated. Despite being fortunate enough to be met with support when coming out, it didn’t change I didn’t have a personal support system. I took legal action and spent the next 7-9 months fighting health complications and legal affairs. What made it hurt twice as worse is with coming out, several other people traumatised by my assailant approached me saying he did the same thing to me.

However throughout this time, I actively sought professional help. I chose sobriety, started volunteering, I picked up boxing, and dedicated the rest of my time to creating a better life for myself. Came September 22nd, 2023 I received justice in a way that felt good to me. Many of hardships have become a lot more manageable and I’m thankful for the connections I’ve built from them and are maintaining today. Now, it’s August 1st, 2024 and 2022 feels far away. I’ve been so preoccupied with continuously practicing kindness, self love and restoring my health that I sometimes forget that entire ordeal happened. August 2022 was a terrible period in my life that could’ve actually killed me, but I’m so glad to have survived and came out stronger.

My assailant traumatised the ever loving hell out of me, but he traumatised me so badly it made me want to get my shit together. Sometimes I never know whether to hate him or thank him, but I generally feel indifferent. While he’s a covert narcissist and they rarely never change, that doesn’t mean I can’t continue to change myself.