I Loved Him. But I Had to Leave: The Day I Broke Up with Aggression and Chaos

This is the post I’ve been avoiding.

The one that sat in my drafts, half-written and heavy.

Because how do you write about the person you loved and feared at the same time?

How do you explain that you weren’t just walking away from a relationship—

You were saving your life, one quiet, terrifying, brave step at a time?

He Had Two Shadows: Anger and Debt

When we met, he was charming.

The kind of man who made everyone laugh, picked up the tab like it meant something.

But behind closed doors, the cracks were always there—

quick temper, careless spending, wild promises with nothing to back them.

I thought I could help him.

I thought love meant absorbing the storm.

But I didn’t realise I was slowly drowning.

Money Was Always a Fight

He’d spend hundreds on gadgets and nights out, then borrow my last £20 for petrol.

He’d avoid rent conversations but explode if I bought groceries without asking.

It was never about the money itself—

it was the lack of safety.

The chaos.

The emotional whiplash.

I lived on edge.

Not knowing if we’d have enough for bills, or if he’d come home angry.

Not knowing which version of him would show up each day.

I became good at making small amounts stretch.

Good at keeping the peace.

Too good at shrinking myself.

The Final Straw Wasn’t Loud—It Was Quiet

It wasn’t one big argument or a broken window.

It was a moment so quiet it hurt.

We were standing in the kitchen.

He was ranting about something small, eyes wild, words sharp.

And I remember thinking—not for the first time—

“I feel more alone with you than I ever did by myself.”

And right then, something in me snapped… or maybe it clicked.

I didn’t need more reasons.

I didn’t need him to hit me or bankrupt me to justify leaving.

I just needed peace.

Walking Away Was the Hardest, Holiest Thing I’ve Ever Done

Packing that bag was like peeling my heart out with shaking hands.

I still loved him. I still hoped he’d change.

But I knew love isn’t supposed to feel like survival.

I didn’t want to raise my child in tension.

I didn’t want to be a cautionary tale.

So I left.

No big goodbye. No revenge.

Just a woman reclaiming her future from a man who couldn’t even hold his own.

I’m Still Healing

Sometimes, I miss the good days.

The softness. The dreams we had.

But then I remember how often I cried in the shower so no one would hear.

I remember how much strength it took to smile in public and panic in private.

I am not bitter. I am not broken.

But I am changed.

To Anyone Reading This

If you’re with someone whose anger feels louder than your voice,

whose spending makes your stomach turn,

whose presence makes you small—

It is okay to leave.

You don’t owe anyone your sanity.

You don’t have to stay just because you love them.

Love is not meant to cost you everything.

You deserve someone who builds with you.

Not someone who burns through your peace and your paycheque.

I didn’t leave because I stopped loving him.

I left because I finally started loving myself more.

And that love?

It’s quiet.

It’s calm.

And for the first time in years,

it feels safe.