From the very first morning, everything was a catastrophe. From the weather to a bad night’s sleep, from aches and pains to exaggerated health problems, his entire world revolved around negativity. At first, I thought it was just a phase, something that would pass with time. But as the days turned into years, I realized that this was who he was—this was his family. Every minor issue was blown out of proportion, every illness treated as though it were a disaster. It was the complete opposite of my upbringing.

In my mother’s world, nothing was a problem. If something broke or was damaged, the response was simple: “It’s just stuff. What matters is that no one was hurt.” We were taught to get on with life, not to dwell on misfortune. If we couldn’t afford to do something, we simply didn’t do it; we never compromised our integrity. We were raised with standards, dignity, and truth. Even if the truth was painful, we were taught to face it. We took responsibility for our actions, and there was no room for deception or sweeping issues under the rug.

Looking back, this should have been my first red flag. You cannot change a person’s fundamental beliefs. If someone lies, avoids accountability, and refuses to acknowledge their wrongdoings, there is no hope for a healthy relationship. No amount of love, patience, or effort can fix a person who does not want to change.

This realization is now my guiding principle for the future. If I ever enter into a serious relationship again, my first consideration will be whether the person shares my values—honesty, integrity, responsibility, and resilience. I will not be swayed by hope that they might change or that I can ‘help’ them see things differently.

This time, I will give myself the space to heal fully, to regain my strength, and to recognize the early signs of abusive and controlling behavior. I will trust my instincts and remember the lessons of my past. Because the truth is, love should never be about enduring chaos—it should be about finding peace.