“Hi!! My name is Emma and I was in a relationship with someone my senior year of high school and we did not date but we were exclusive to each other and we knew we were never gonna be together after prom because he was going to the army and I was moving to Florida for college, the way he ended things was very bad. He texted me how it’s going to hurt him more if we keep talking the way we do and I always had resentment for him after that. it’s been seven months since we spoken and I’m done with college for my first year and he is back home for break until he goes to Alaska and we are from New York. he texted me to hang out before he left and we hung out and it was good, but I just felt like I still have feelings, but I always buried them inside and I feel like he does not feel the same way. i’m confused on why he wanted to hang out all we did was talk and watch a movie and kiss no sex. when we say goodbye to each other, he said I hope we see each other in the future and I don’t know how to feel about that and I was very sad and I’m also very confused because we were never sexually intimate while we were together in high school and he said it’s because he knew he was gonna get attached but I feel like it’s a lie as well. I’m just mixed with a lot of emotions right now. I don’t know how to feel. after we hung out, we haven’t spoken since.”

Hi Emma! You were in a relationship-that-wasn’t-a-relationship-but-totally-was. Exclusive, emotionally deep, and headed for an expiration date you both saw coming, but unfortunately didn’t make the fall any softer. The problem with “we both knew it was ending” is that knowing something doesn’t mean your heart was prepared for it.

Then he ended things with a classic “this hurts me more than it hurts you” breakup text. Translation? “I’m overwhelmed and don’t want to deal with this, so I’m making myself the victim so you don’t question it.” You had every right to hold resentment. He didn’t give you closure, he gave you a riddle.

Fast forward seven months. You just finished your first year of college (congrats by the way!), you’re back home, and he pops up again. You hang out, and suddenly all those buried feelings come crawling back out of their emotional grave. That’s normal. When something ends in a haze of almosts, your heart holds onto the “what if.” Then he kisses you, tosses out a vague “hope we see each other again,” and fades back into the distance.

You asked why you still care. I’ll tell you why. You didn’t just like him, you saw the potential of what could’ve been. The version of him that cared, the one who said he’d get attached if you slept together. And maybe that was true. Maybe he was scared. Maybe he would get super attached. But scared people don’t get to keep you half-loved while they figure it out.

He reopened the wound, poked around, and left again. And now you’re left wondering what it meant and why it still hurts. But this isn’t just about him. This is about you. About the version of you who cared for him. Who hoped it would be different. Who still remembers how close it almost came to being something more. You’re not confused, you’re grieving, and you’re grieving the potential of what could’ve been, alongside the version of you that wanted more. And here’s where you are in that process: you’ve passed denial because you know he’s not coming back in any real way. You’re between sadness and acceptance, with a little bargaining mixed in. That little voice that says “maybe if he reached out again, it would feel different this time.” That’s not love. That’s grief trying to rewrite the ending.

So here’s an action plan for you. Feel free to take and leave what feels best, because there will be someone who doesn’t need to pull and push at your feelings to make you feel something.

First, identify what you hoped for. Not just from him, but from that whole chapter. What did you want to feel? Safe? Chosen? Desired? All of the above? Write it down. That’s your real desire hiding underneath your feelings, not him. Second, replace him. Every time he crosses your mind, do one thing, however small, that brings you back to you. Text a friend. Get fresh air. Add a song to your playlist. Work on your Pinterest board. Show your nervous system something new is coming.

Third, build closure through behavior. Unfollow if it helps. And don’t give meaning to crumbs. As a born over-thinker, I understand giving every word, text, and picture meaning. But we have to come back to this: if he wanted to be in your life, he’d be here. Let that be enough. And finally, declare the lesson. Not “he was a mistake,” but “this showed me what I need in love moving forward.” Because it did.

Love, Bella

P.S. You weren’t too much. He was too unequipped. There’s a difference, and it matters.

–Kate

Hi Kate,

I’ll tell you why you’re attached. But first, I’ll tell you a story.

Freshman year, I met a guy who told me, more than once, that he couldn’t be the man I needed and wasn’t ready for a relationship. Doe-eyed and craving affection, I stayed. And I’ll be honest, I knew I was out of his league. I figured he’d grow. I figured he’d realize I was good for him. I treated him well, showed up for him, even helped him emotionally. What I didn’t realize was that underneath all of that, I was clinging to the feeling. I needed his attention, his affection, the comfort. And the worst part? He told me exactly how it would end. And he was right.

I’m telling you this because you’re not alone. You’re not foolish. You just had hope. And when the connection feels strong but the relationship never forms, it creates this confusing limbo that’s hard to step out of. I’ve been there. So many of us have. And me and you both know you deserve better. So let’s talk about why this still hurts.

You said the key words: He’s an avoidant. Which tells me you’re aware he’s not communicating his feelings, nor delivering the needs of yours. You’ve also been telling him to change, which tells me the dynamic consists of you voicing your needs, him not meeting them, and you trying to “fix” the situation or him. But that isn’t love. It’s labor. And love isn’t supposed to exhaust you.

You also know he isn’t the man for you. Not just because he said it, but because of how he shows up. The moments where he goes silent, when your needs get pushed aside, when he disappears just long enough for you to question everything. And then, right as you start to find your footing, he pops back in. That’s not clarity. That’s confusion disguised as comfort.

And I’m not going to tell you to block him. That’s not always the solution. You don’t need to cut him off. You just need to come back to you. You don’t need to make a dramatic exit to reclaim your peace. You just need to start choosing yourself more often. Your energy, your affection, and your presence are gifts. Reread that. And they don’t belong in hands that don’t know how to hold them, no matter the reason why.

Here’s what tends to happen if you stay in the loop. You’ll keep talking. You’ll keep hoping. He’ll say the right things. Maybe even treat you like a girlfriend without calling you one. And yes, it’ll feel good… until it doesn’t. Until you remember you still don’t have a title. Still don’t have security. Still don’t feel chosen. Still in a relationship for years and he isn’t serving up to your needs without a fight or confrontation. And you’ll wonder if you’re asking for too much when really, you’re asking for the bare minimum.

And none of this makes you unworthy. It makes you human. You’re not “too much” or “not enough.” You’re just someone who’s been giving more than they’ve been getting. And if that dynamic hasn’t changed yet, it won’t.

So is he manipulating you or does he like you? Both. He probably likes you. Likes your heart, spending time with you, the affection you give him. And he may be unintentionally pulling you along. But if he hasn’t done the work to show up in love, he’s not going to magically wake up ready. Even if he’s kind. Even if he says he cares. Saying “you deserve better” isn’t the same as being better. Sometimes people give you just enough to keep you close, but never enough to make you feel secure. And that’s not love. That’s games. And intentional or not, it’s manipulation.

I know it’s tempting to wonder what’s stopping him. I know you’ve thought of it all: Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he’s been hurt. Maybe it’s something deep he hasn’t healed yet. And maybe it is. But unless heis the one asking those questions, it’s not your job to answer them for him. And you should be in a relationship with someone who does answer those questions, without you having to even ask. And holding out hope for a relationship that won’t be ready when you get in it, because he won’t do the work now, is only time spent losing yourself in the process.

So why are you attached to someone you never dated?

Because you cared. Because you felt something real. You built a story around the version of him that showed up when things felt good. You saw potential. You hoped for more. And when you care deeply, even an almost can leave a real mark.

But now, it’s time to return to you. Because quite honestly, no amount of love or likeness is enough to make someone treat you differently.

And if you’re wondering how to actually close the door, start small. Archive the messages so you’re not tempted to reread them. Mute him if you don’t want to block him. When the thoughts come up, remind yourself: if he wanted to be here, he would be. It doesn’t have to be cold or sudden. It just has to be consistent.

You can miss him and still move forward. You can care about him and still close the door. You can maintain boundaries and not put his desires before yours. You don’t need his permission to let go.

And if he reaches out again? You don’t have to react. You’ll already know he’s not trying to build something new. He’s just making sure the door is still open. And you are learning how to lock the door without hating what’s behind it.

With much love,

Bella

But in life, everything has its polarity. When I lost my mom, the idea of gain felt not just impossible, but cruel. What could I possibly gain from her absence? How could anything good come from a life no longer lived?

Yet, this past year, I’ve seen my mother in ways I never did before. She’s in every part of my life, nudging her way in: whispering her thoughts, stirring old memories, making her presence known. Sometimes, I catch a whiff of her perfume. Sometimes, I feel her energy settle into a room. And sometimes, as crazy as it sounds, when I’m stuck between choices, I see her face, tilting me toward one. Maybe it’s her. Maybe it’s what she stood for: motherhood, guidance, clarity. Either way, she’s there.

I’ve always second-guessed myself. My boyfriend calls me the “queen of overthinking.” Every decision is dissected, every possibility analyzed. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. with thoughts looping, tangling, unraveling, only to start again.

Trust has been my lesson these past few months. Trusting the unknown. Trusting myself. And when she appears, when I feel her presence, it’s like a quiet confirmation. A reminder that I’m exactly where I need to be. Because if I weren’t, she wouldn’t be here.

So how does she work for me? What does she do behind the scenes? A familiar scent, a passing thought — these are reminders, but is there more?

I imagine her on the sidelines. I’m not a sports person, but I see her in the audience of my life, nodding when I make the right choices, laughing at my jokes, crying when I cry. She works through the unexpected blessings. Like when I applied to a modeling agency despite having Erb’s Palsy, remembering her words: “Learn to love your arm, because I won’t always be here to remind you.” She works when I’m in a dark mood, and a memory of her lifts me. She works by letting love move through me, not against me.

She’s here, every day. And for those who don’t believe our loved ones exist beyond death, let me tell you this: what she represented will always outlast her. She was guidance, creativity, love, and clarity. Clarity that things are unfolding as they should. Clarity that we are always supported. Clarity that love never really leaves. Not in this world, and not in the next.

Loving Yourself:

“How can you love yourself if love is selfless?”, I used to wonder. Coming out of my depression, I began leaning into my identity, self worth, and this idea of self love. Love was always a connection between two beings, rather than a singular element or feeling. Loving yourself was a foreign idea. Maybe one that couldn’t even be attained.

“You can’t love others until you love yourself.” Such a statement couldn’t be anymore untrue.

Love isn’t mutually exclusive, and it’s not conditional. Boundaries are conditional, which are created so we know whether we are safe to practice love. If you could only love another if you loved yourself, then connections wouldn’t truly be authentic, although it would be easier to recognize when one is.

As I regained my confidence a few years ago, still dabbling in the idea of what it truly means to love yourself, I asked, “How do I know if I love myself?” Is there a sudden change in behavior? Do people treat you differently because you see yourself differently? Do you get the feeling that you just know? Questions arose not only out of curiosity, but out of need. I needed to feel loved. And although I’ve loved others, how dare could I love myself?

During this time the Body Positivity Movement arose, and there were countless self-love campaigns expressed in the marketing of every beauty company and magazine. Stores began removing images of photoshopped models and replaced them with the reclaiming pictures of diverse models. It was refreshing, but it was also a reminder that I needed to love myself.

It felt like an obligation, not a choice.

Unknowingly, I started practicing forms of self-love. I ate healthier, because I wanted my body to feel better and live longer. I started reading again, because it was what I wanted to do. I stopped being so hard on my self, and for some reason, began celebrating my small wins rather than simply glorifying the big ones. I was nicer to myself, because we all have rough days. And I took my medicine when I was sick, rather than letting myself remain in pain as a form of self harm. I then stopped asking myself how to know if I loved myself, because I did.

“Treat yourself like your own best friend”, was a quote that I admired, and I remembered it at times when I felt I was my own enemy. My enemy would want me to pursue my bad habits, dramatize my failures, and develop any anger or sadness without understanding it’s cause. As Gucci Mane once said, “I’m my best friend, and I’m my worst enemy. No one else can hurt me unless I let them, you feel me?” Yes Gucci, but the underlying issue is that sometimes in circumstances of extreme emotion or growth, we don’t know if we’re treating ourselves like our enemy, friend, or if we’re just critiquing our own actions.

I believe that’s the best part about the phrase, “Treat yourself like your own best friend.” You would congratulate them, celebrate them, but also hold them accountable and responsible, because you want them to grow, dream, and be healthy both physically and mentally. You want them to live on because you love them.

Loving yourself isn’t easy, nor is it dreamlike. Loving yourself is taking a shower in the morning, despite wanting to stay in bed all day. It’s taking yourself through your failures: accepting them, learning from them, and aiming to win. Love is it’s own complex element, so complex that it can’t be good nor bad, happy nor sad, imaginative or fact. When I first started Living By Bella, I commonly said that “love is a journey.” And it truly is.

Loving Others:

Love was always performative. You were meant to be adored, drowned in gifts and compliments, and coddled as though you were perfect: not just a perfect person, but perfect enough for another.

There are 5 love languages, according to Gary Chapman: gift giving, words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch, and quality time. Each person varies in showing and receiving love. Although I show my love through physical touch and quality time, I feel loved through words of affirmation and gifts.

Since love is formed through connection, it’s representation changes between romantic and platonic relationships. I show my brother love through quality time and words of affirmation, but to my boyfriend I express physical touch, and feel loved through boyfriends by words of affirmation.

Loving others requires both selflessness and selfishness. In the Bible, Genesis 2:24, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” To form such a connection requires the thought of another person not only as a friend, sibling, parent, or a lover, but as their own being, who has needs, wants, desires, and dreams. When you truly love someone, especially a romantic partner, you become one in the sense that you consider their feelings, thoughts, goals, and want the best for them, the same you’d want for yourself, despite your selfish desires. But the connection of love dwells so deep that constant reassurance, attention, and close proximity isn’t needed. The love is already established.

You don’t need to love yourself to love someone else, but you should love yourself, because what powerful of a connection you can create with yourself. We were born into bodies and beings that were created before we consciously realized it, therefore there is always more to learn and grow within. It is better for us to love ourselves, understand our love languages, and use those structures to love others even deeper.

Add More Love to Your Life:

Express it. And know you can receive it. Love is always circling, it is in actions big and small, coming from varying sources. Love is a butterfly landing on your finger, soaking in your presence of calmness, and it’s your friend giving you a hand, when you don’t even realize you need it. Love is in grief. It is in creation. It evolves and it moves through its energetic ways, so to add more love to your life, you have to simply see it. Love is visible in your actions and words, both to yourself and others.

Love is safety. It’s the comfort of knowing you exist beyond yourself, are connected to those around you, and are capable of caring for you and another, without fear or judgement.

Love is love.