What Rock Bottom Taught Me About Choosing Myself

Rock bottom. That cold, heavy place where hope feels far away and every day feels like a battle with your own mind. 

That’s exactly where I found myself.

Healing from a toxic relationship is not a straight path—it’s messy, painful, and a lot harder than I ever expected. It pulls you through waves of doubt, shame, and questions you don’t always have answers to.

I remember looking at my life and feeling completely paralyzed. I wondered if I would ever feel whole again, or if I was destined to stay trapped in the pain I couldn’t seem to escape.

I felt stuck. Overwhelmed by regret. Afraid of the future. Unsure how to move forward.

I was drowning in my own misery, convinced there was no way out. 

Self-pity pulled me deeper, making life feel hopeless and meaningless. I felt like I was losing control of everything.

Then someone said something that shook me awake:

“Never stay in self-pity. That’s the lowest place you can go.”

Those words hit me hard.

I realized how long I had been accepting a life that didn’t reflect my worth. Deep down, I knew I deserved more than a life that made me feel small, unhappy, and unseen.

I had my daughters to think about, and I didn’t want them to go through what I had been through. 

Thinking of them gave me strength. It reminded me that I still had something worth fighting for.

I realized that if I kept blaming others and replaying the past—everything that went wrong—I would stay trapped in that same darkness.

And that’s when something inside me shifted.

I made a choice. A choice to take back control of my life. 

To stop living in the past and start focusing on the present. To slowly reclaim the parts of myself I had lost along the way.

I couldn’t change what had already happened. But I could begin changing the direction of my life—one small step at a time.

How I Started Healing from a Toxic Relationship

I didn’t heal all at once. I healed by choosing myself—again and again, in small, quiet ways.

Healing from a toxic relationship required me to turn inward… To be honest with myself in ways I had avoided for so long.

I started reflecting on my past. Not just this relationship, but the ones before it. 

I asked myself hard questions:

Why did I keep ending up with the same kind of partner?
What patterns was I repeating?
What was I allowing—and why?

I did a deep inventory of my life.

I began to notice my triggers. The moments that made me anxious, small, or afraid. And instead of ignoring them, I started asking, 

“What is this trying to teach me?”

Slowly, I began to understand myself more. I made a decision to protect my peace. To choose calm over chaos. To stop normalizing what was hurting me.

I started practicing a different kind of self-care—not just the surface kind, but a deeper, more intentional kind.

I cared for my body.
I worked on my mental and emotional health.
I explored my spiritual side.
I became more mindful of my finances and my independence.

Because one of the hardest truths I had to face was this:

Toxic relationships don’t just hurt you—they slowly break you down. They make you doubt yourself. They make you feel like you can’t stand on your own.

And I didn’t want to live like that anymore.

So I started rebuilding my life.

I wanted to work again, so I learned new skills.
I slowly reached out to friends and family.
I began opening up about my truth—something that once terrified me.

I was afraid of being judged. 

Afraid that people would see the sadness I had been hiding behind my smiles. 

Afraid they’d see how vulnerable and broken I felt inside.

But this time, I chose to face that fear. I allowed myself to be honest, even when it felt uncomfortable. Even when it meant showing the parts of me I used to hide.

And in doing so, I slowly found my voice again.

I learned to pause when something felt off—even in the smallest way.

Because intuition doesn’t always scream. In the beginning, it whispers. It nudges. It tightens your chest before your mind can explain why.

And if you keep ignoring it… eventually, you start ignoring yourself.

And slowly, I came to realize something important:

I am not responsible for someone else’s actions. The way they treated me was not because of me.

Sometimes, people project their own pain, their insecurities, and their unresolved wounds onto you.

And no matter how much you try, you cannot fix that for them.

What you can do is take care of yourself.
Protect your peace.
And choose yourself.

Again and again.

This is what healing from a toxic relationship really looks like. Not perfect, not linear, but a quiet decision to choose yourself every single day.

Healing & Moving Forward

Healing began the day I refused to abandon myself to keep the peace. The day I refused to accept what was breaking me.

Working on yourself does not mean tolerating disrespect. 

Being patient does not mean accepting control. 

And being a “good woman” does not mean shrinking your voice so someone else can feel bigger. 

Especially when your children are watching.

Because they are.

They see how he speaks to you. They see how you respond.

They are learning what love looks like, what partnership looks like, and what a woman should tolerate.

And if you normalize disrespect, they may grow up believing that silence is normal, that love requires suffering. It doesn’t.

Disrespect isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s subtle — the eye rolls, the dismissive tone, the way your feelings are brushed aside, the way your reality is slowly questioned.

That is not love. That is not partnership. And enduring it does not make you strong.

Strength is not surviving in silence. 

Strength is saying,

“This is not acceptable.”

Growth is drawing a line, holding your boundaries, and choosing dignity over dysfunction. 

You are not “too sensitive” or “too emotional.”  You are asking for respect, and that is the bare minimum.

The moment you decide you will no longer tolerate what breaks you, that is the moment you take your power back.

Because healing isn’t adjusting to someone else’s toxicity. Healing is reclaiming your voice, your identity, your mental health — piece by piece.

Your children don’t need a perfect mother. 

They need a present one. A woman who shows them love does not require shrinking, begging, or enduring disrespect.

Boundaries are strength. Dignity is non-negotiable. Peace is not selfish. 

The woman who chooses herself — not out of ego, but self-respect — becomes the example her children will thank her for one day.

You are not weak for staying…

You are powerful the moment you decide you deserve better. 

Your intuition spoke long before the damage became visible.

You were never “too sensitive.” You were aware.

You were never “too emotional.” You were overwhelmed from carrying what was never yours to carry alone.

You don’t prove strength by enduring pain. You prove strength by refusing to normalize it.

And the moment you choose yourself, that is where healing begins.

Because healing from a toxic relationship isn’t about fixing what broke you… It’s about coming back to yourself, again and again. 

So start here.

Start by listening to that quiet voice inside you.
Start by honoring what you feel instead of dismissing it.
Start by choosing peace—even in the smallest decisions.

You don’t have to have everything figured out. You just have to stop abandoning yourself, one choice at a time.

Because the woman who chooses herself doesn’t just change her life.

She changes her children’s future.