Kalpana recalls the emotional abuse her mother endured and how she and her brother absorbed the fallout. These early experiences shaped her sense of safety and belonging in ways that lingered in her adulthood.
If you've spent enough time in workplaces, on boards, or in other community organizations, you've probably had that moment where your stomach tightens in a meeting and you're not entirely sure why. A comment lands sideways. A tone shifts. Someone interrupts you for the third time. You walk away replaying the exchange, wondering whether you imagined it or whether something subtle but unmistakable just happened. That confusion is often the first sign you're dealing with a workplace bully.
I have been dating Rita for four months. We peck on the lips, hug and hold hands, but we have had only one real kiss so far. Rita was first married for 22 years to an emotionally abusive man and then remarried to a manipulative one. She said we were going too fast and she wanted to slow down. I understood and have exerted no pressure on her.
My mom just told me to die over an email I misread. My mom is Indian, and she prioritizes academic achievements and results a lot. My brother and I are basically her one ticket to get respect from people who despise her. Whenever I get low exam grades, she lectures me about how she sacrificed everything to have me here, and I really wanted to tell her that marks aren't everything.
Among the recent messages my husband had sent to her was one in which he told her he was in hell living with me and he didn't give a damn about me. He also asked his sister if he could move in with her! (She was fine with that.) He said he would figure a way out, and that there was always a way out.
Love is supposed to feel safe, right? I remember sitting across from my therapist three years ago, trying to explain why I stayed in a relationship where I constantly walked on eggshells. "But they love me," I kept saying, as if that justified everything. That session changed how I understood love forever. After my four-year relationship ended in my mid-twenties, I dove deep into understanding attachment styles and relationship psychology. What I discovered was eye-opening: Genuine love has boundaries.
One sign you grew up with a narcissistic parent is that you were never allowed to think something was wrong with them or their parenting. The only permitted conclusion was that something was wrong with you. Of course, children growing up with such a message inherit a heavy mix of shame, a guilt they can't place, and an anger they learned to swallow. As a child of narcissistic parents, you might be great at achieving things, but feel empty doing it.
Most recently he has decided that I am having an affair with Clara, the (happily married heterosexual) woman next door. While Clara and I are good friends and I enjoy her company, there is nothing romantic between us. He is furious with me and has all but cut off his friendships with the kids next door, refusing to step foot inside their home even though our families used to eat together once or twice a week.
In healthy relationships, people tend to feel safe and respected. You may argue, but you don't fight. A level of respect and care is maintained, and the past is not brought up as a weapon. Over time, your nervous system learns that this person is reliable. In unhealthy relationships, especially those involving emotional abuse, attachment works differently. Instead of safety, the bond forms around chaos and survival. This process is known as a trauma bond.
As the headlights swept across the driveway, I saw her standing there - stiff and stern, her body rigid with rage. One hand clutched our dog's leash, the other gripped a glass of water and was trembling slightly - not from fear, but from fury held barely in check. Her jaw was so tight, it looked like it might snap. Brightly lit by the car lights, she hurled the water in my face before I could even say hello.
I had my first boyfriend at 16 and stayed in relationships nonstop until six years ago. I was heavy into dating apps, often seeing more than one person at once. In college, I had a serious boyfriend I thought I'd marry. Then, at 24, I met my husband on Match.com. We moved fast: he relocated from Connecticut to Long Island, where I still live, and we married two years later. Shortly after, we had our two sons.
The 2025 Netflix documentary, UnKnown Number: The High School Catfish, depicts the true story of a mother in Michigan who shockingly barrages her teenage daughter with vicious text messages for nearly two years. The texts, sometimes up to 50 per day, included death threats, sexually explicit messages, and even a directive to the daughter to kill herself. Why would a mother do such a thing?
Steve messed up all the time, his wife said, because he's "sloppy," and, truth be told, "stupid." A few years into their marriage, words like "always" and "never" entered the mix. He "always fucked up." He could "never be trusted" - even to fill out a simple form, and certainly not to spend money without her approval. Steve was told he misjudged people and that he needed his wife to tell him what to say so that everyone wouldn't hate him.
I am a man who was widowed 11 months ago. I met a woman on a dating site, and we clicked immediately. We have been enjoying each other's company for several months. We have a long-distance relationship. She lives three hours away. Although she indicated on the dating site her status as separated for two years, she still lives in the marital house with her husband.
It wasn't helpful. It didn't make me feel any better about my situation, nor did it make me feel stronger. All it did was make me feel guilty. Guilty that I had given my daughter this man as a father, guilty that I had fallen for his tricks when clearly everybody else knew he was bad news, guilty that I was bad at picking partners.
She met him at work, and he has been known to jump from woman to woman there. I've heard that her fiancé will date women in his office and then all of a sudden start ignoring them-speaking to everyone around them but giving them the silent treatment. One woman already quit her job over how he treated her. Another chewed him out but says she won't give him the "satisfaction"
I am apparently too ambitious and goal-driven. Every time I got a promotion, started working on a project or a goal, or achieved something I'm happy about, ex-partners have gotten insecure and then started to humble and belittle me. I used to model, and everything was cool when they thought I'd just be pretty. But when they realize my mind is the most attractive thing about me, they're over it.
Have you ever gone completely quiet in the middle of an argument-your mind blank, your mouth frozen? Or felt so overwhelmed after a fight that you left-not just the room, but the relationship itself? I've been there. And for a long time, I didn't know why. I thought I was the problem, or maybe I was just cold. Unavailable. But I've come to understand something important:
"Nichole" was 10 when I started seeing her at her school. The school counselor reported that Nicole was talking about wanting to "cut myself in half," prompting concern. During our first session, she reported that she lives with her mom during the week and visits her dad every other weekend. This is common for many kids whom I see, as we live in a time of many diverse examples of family and parenting. In therapy, she began to talk about feeling scared to mention her dad around her mom. When asked why, she shrugged and said, "Because it'll make her mad."
