I was crying in bed and he just rolled over...

Picture this—late one night, I’m having a bit of a meltdown. Not sure what it was about—probably an existential crisis or, I dunno, my boyfriend - well, my ex now - finished the hummus without telling me. We’ve all been there.

Anyway, I’m in bed, dramatic tears, total Oscar-worthy performance… and my boyfriend is lying next to me. And I’m waiting for him to, you know, scoop me up, whisper sweet nothings, and stroke my hair like a Disney prince.

But no. He turns his back. Literally rolls over… and starts watching bloody YouTube!

At first I’m like—RUDE. Add that to my list of things to cry about. 

So I do what any emotionally mature adult would do: I cry harder. I wanted to suck him into my drama. He sighed and put his headphones on. 

Then, I remembered my Demartini training. I asked myself: ‘What’s the benefit of this?’

Instantly it dawned on me: I have to love myself instead.

Then I realised something else: we put so much onus on our romantic partners to help us avoid our uncomfortable feelings, to soothe us, rescue us, fix us. But that’s not their job. He wasn’t my therapist. He was just a guy trying to enjoy cat videos. And I was treating him like my live-in emotional first responder. 

That’s the mistake a lot of us make—we outsource our healing, our emotional regulation, our sanity. When really… that’s our work.

And I realised—he was giving me back to myself.  He saw my bullshit and quite rightly ignored it. What many would see as cold and heartless was the ultimate act of love.

Coddling me in that moment wouldn’t have made things better - they’d have made things worse, by giving a false sense of soothing, avoiding the necessary discomfort, and delaying my growth.

So now, when someone ignores me in my hour of need, I just think… wow. Thank you for the personal development opportunity.