Enemy Territory

KLVN's Coffee Lab, Pittsburgh, 2023.

I've been off and on my blog due to working on my Master's thesis. But you know, I always have plenty to say. I finally had a break to discuss what my mind has landed on for the past few days.

Have you ever found yourself in enemy territory inside your own romantic relationship? It starts out sweet, exciting. And then, somehow, months go by and you're suddenly dodging harsh comments and odd behaviors left and right?

It's only happened to me once, but I think about it more often than I expect to. Someone in my life would pick at anything I said or did. I remember pointing out getting a 90% "score" on Duolingo (lol) while practicing Swedish and sharing that moment. I was met with, "Woooow, now Olive is fluent in Swedish." Suddenly this tiny, silly thing I was excited about became something to mock. The joke dragged on for months. I had to hear my partner jokingly tell people, with that same nasty tone: "Oh, well you know, she's fluent in Swedish."

Then it was the artists I loved—suddenly they hated them, especially because I loved the artists "so much." I wish I was exaggerating.

Once, they told me was beautiful. I thanked them and playfully added that I knew. Even my self confidence irritated them. They made sure to never tell me that again. Anytime someone complimented me, they'd be sure to cut in with "oh, she knows, you don't have to tell her that."

I would compliment them and suddenly they were pissed that I had said anything positive about them.

They would emphasize on wanting to know every piece of me, every thought, every corner of who I was. But when I shared myself, it was used against me. And on the days I held back out of fear of being torn apart, they were somehow upset about that too.

Anything I enjoyed was stupid. Anytime I became interested in what they enjoyed, it was like I was "ruining" the meaning of it. There was always, ALWAYS a counter reaction. A correction. A dig. A twist.

I remember spending most of that relationship wondering why things had turned so sour, so bizarre.

How did my loving partner turn into my worst enemy?

Had I met a wolf in sheep's clothing? Had I done something wrong to warrant these responses, these behaviors? How could I do better? Should I simply stay quiet? No longer express joy? Stop hoping they'd ever find any in mine?

I can imagine you reading those questions and thinking, "Olive??? The answers to those questions are obvious."

And they are. Aren't they?

I take pride in having a secure attachment style, especially after everything I've been through. It wasn't until I read Jessica Fern's Polysecure that I realized I also wrestle with internal fearful avoidance. Outwardly, I'm secure. I worked hard for that. But internally, there's still a part of me that hesitates to hand over my whole self without knowing whether someone will stay.

Still—I've let those walls fall before. It isn't impossible. I know I'll do it again when it feels safe.

I adored my partner at the time, I really did. It was hard to imagine not being with them. They made me laugh. And being around them felt, strangely, safe.

But even when a secure person recognizes poor behavior, we tend to overstay our welcome. We believe in repair rather than rupture. We assume that with communication and effort, there's got to be some sort of solution. We don't interpret conflict as doom. We're loyal, consistent. We commit with sincerity. We assume the best, especially when we care. We say things like "They're probably just going through something." Compassion becomes the currency we overspend. And most of all, secure people love deeply.

It takes us time to walk away. We try, and try again, because we genuinely want things to work. And when you add internal fearful avoidance to the mix, the idea of letting someone know you so intimately only for them to hurt you? It becomes your greatest fear come true.

So what happens when the person you love the most...hates you?

I still don't have the answer. But I do know now:

When someone makes you feel like you're in enemy territory, the relationship is already over—long before you walk away. Love can't survive where you have to duck, shrink, or second-guess every piece of yourself.

Some days it's still hard working through this. Whether there's pain of missing what once was or anger. There is still much healing to be done.

So maybe the real question isn't why they became my enemy...but why I kept trying to love someone who treated me like one.

How do we know when a relationship is challenging us to grow, and when it's slowly shrinking us into someone we no longer recognize? When it comes to relationships, at what point do we stop fighting for them...and start fighting for ourselves?

one more thing: i've been listening to Olivia Dean a lot lately but every time i listen to this song i think of this relationship. don't let anyone treat you poorly. all my love.

xx