How I’m healing after being in a relationship with a narcissist.

It has been 11 months to the day since I walked out of my home and marriage, and boy, has it been a year (let’s just round up and call it a year).

After I made the decision to choose my own happiness and walk away from my marriage the emotional rollercoaster I went on was exactly as I expected. There were days I doubted my decision, wondering whether I made a mistake and should’ve stayed. Then there were days I knew with conviction I made the right choice for both my kids and I.

What I didn’t expect was the PTSD fall out that would come as I waded back into the dating pool.

It is here I’ll answer the question that I’m sure is now on the tip of your tongue — but when did you know you were ready to date again?

From an outsider perspective I was newly single; I was back to swiping a mere 4wks after I left — or more accurately, was kicked out. Long story short, it was mid-lockdown and he told me to pack my stuff and leave with the kids because I could live with my parents, but I digress. For anyone who has ever left a long term relationship would know, choosing to leave is never a decision made lightly. You don’t wake up one morning and decide you’re done. It is a decision that sits in the back of your mind, brewing, growing in potency until one day you decide whether you stay or you go.

For me, the marriage should never have happened. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was drilled into me that you stay together for the kids I would’ve left while I was pregnant with Hayley. So by the time I was ready to call it a day, the marriage had dissolved. We hadn’t shared a bed since Kayden was born (I slept on the couch with KK until he was 3 months old when my incessant begging to return to the big bed finally had merit as he had begun rolling). As for sex? I could count on one hand exactly how many times we had sex in the 2yr period between conceiving Kayden (24th Nov ‘19) to the time I left when KK was 1 (17 Aug ‘21).

As my dating journey began I started noticing things that were never an issue were now an issue.

No, I’m not talking about the guys — but I will say, it’s a very different world to how I left it after matching with my ex-husband on Tinder back in 2016.

I dived back into the dating pool knowing exactly what I didn’t want but what I encountered was just how much the relationship had worn me down. I was no longer the person I was; the lustre I once had had been buffed away, all without me noticing.

My first rude awakening was when I matched with a chef.

Being a lover of food it quickly became a topic we bonded over but, I insisted I was a terrible cook and what I made was barely edible. I told him how desperately I wanted a steak, which was hard to obtain mid-lockdown, and when asked why I didn’t cook it for myself, I reiterated that I could barely boil pasta let alone something as complicated as a steak.

Then it dawned on me. Why was I putting my cooking skills down so much when only years before I would spend hours in the kitchen baking and cooking?

Look, I’m no Masterchef, and even with a recipe I’m not great at following it, but what I do make isn’t that bad either. Then it hit me. Years and years of constant belittling critique had made me doubt my cooking skills to the point where I would go as far to say I can’t boil pasta.

Every meal I made came with some critique, some harsher than others. Then one day, fed up, he took over the cooking.

When I shared with friends, and even to Instagram, that my husband cooked every night I was met with many variations of the same sentiment — “you’re so lucky he cooks!” but the reality was, him cooking was not out of love, it was out of pure frustration that what I made was not up to par.

Almost a year on and I still get anxiety over cooking for people, which is a shame because it’s my way to show love. And if I do decide to bake or cook for those I love? It comes with a side of pre-emptive apologies from me saying sorry the meal isn’t good enough.

When I noticed just how much my self-confidence had plummeted I realised that I had not walked away from my marriage unscathed, as I naively thought. What I didn’t know was uncovering how traumatised I was about something I once enjoyed doing would affect more than just cooking.

Soon after coming to terms with my anxiety over cooking with the chef, I met someone else who would help me uncover how terrified I was of PDA (public displays of affection).

I have zero issues with PDA, if anything I think it’s hella cute when a couple walk hand-in-hand together, cuddle up at traffic lights, or share a not-so sneaky kiss. But over the course of 5yrs I was conditioned to not instigate or expect any of these things because my ex hated it (which he had no issues with during the courting stages, hence the confusion).

My ex hated it to the extent that when we were in public he would walk 10m ahead of me while I tried to keep pace. When in public we were to keep our hands to ourselves and if I were to try engage in any form of affection, I would be reprimanded and scolded.

Fast-forward to this new guy who loved PDA, it was like a shock to the system. It was everything I had wanted and loved doing, but I was terrified of instigating any kind of affection. I was so used to trying to hold someone’s hand, only to have it snatched away from me. I was used to walking in public as two strangers, and I wouldn’t dare to attempt a sneaky kiss.

It became a constant battle when I was with this new guy. I wanted so badly to reciprocate the affection, to show how much I liked it, but every single time I tried, fear gripped me and I would freeze.

The biggest revelation of all came when I realised I had developed an anxious attachment style, something 2016 Maggie would have been appalled by.

I went from a girl who was comfortable swiping and dating without being crushed when a guy didn’t text her back or “define” the relationship, to a woman who was expecting to lock things down within weeks of meeting someone — come on Maggie, did you not learn with your ex-husband you need to SLOW THINGS DOWN?

Even when a dear guy friend of mine flagged that my actions would put the fear of god into any man, I continued on, ignoring his warning. But as it goes with most things when you ignore warning signs, one day it all hit me like a tonne of bricks. I finally stepped back and realised that how I was dating was not what I wanted, and I missed the carefree girl I was.

It took some further soul-searching to realise that my anxious attachment style stemmed from years of being told I would never find someone as good as him. This thought rocked my self-value, I truly believed I couldn’t get a good guy and after years of next to no kindness I was attaching myself to any guy who gave me a modicum of attention and care.

To say it’s been quite a year doesn’t even compass it. I know full well that what I’ve uncovered is just the tip of the iceberg. It is an iceberg that is only slowly revealing itself over time as I wade further into the dating pool. Don’t even get me started about the pure fear that has a grip on me that I will somehow end up in the same or similar situation.

Healing isn’t linear. You don’t wake up one day fully healed. It is a journey where some days things are plodding along and out of nowhere, something can throw you completely off kilter. All you can do is surround yourself with people who understand and are there for you. But most importantly, you’ve got to be gentle on yourself as you embark on this journey and trust that you’ll get there when the time is right.