After the Break-Up: Maya's Journey

Through the window of my counselling office, I noticed Maya sitting in her car, motionless, gathering the courage to come inside. She sat there for 15 minutes before ringing the bell. I knew her decision to walk through that door was anything but simple; it was a quiet act of immense bravery.

When we first spoke on the phone, Maya told me she’d been through a “difficult relationship.” She didn’t call it abuse. Like many women, she didn’t yet have the words for what she had experienced. And this was her first time in therapy. The fear was tangible.

As someone who works with trauma, I understood the courage it takes to seek help, especially when your story has been silenced or minimised, even by yourself.

Session 1: Finding Language for the Pain

When Maya finally sat down across from me, her hands were tightly clasped, her eyes uncertain. “I left my boyfriend six months ago, and since then… I haven’t felt like myself,” she said softly.

She described how, at first, Jack was charming and attentive. But over time, he began criticising her constantly, isolating her from her friends, and making her question her worth. Still, she struggled to name it as abuse.

“He never hit me,” she said, as if trying to talk herself out of her pain. “It was just… hard. I don’t think I belong in the same category as women who have been really abused.”

This response is so common. Emotional abuse rarely matches the stereotypes we’re conditioned to expect. But that doesn’t make it any less real. I gently explained that abuse isn’t always loud or visible. It’s often subtle, a slow erosion of self-worth. It can sound like criticism masked as concern. It can feel like love, distorted by control.

When I named what she’d experienced as emotional abuse, Maya became very quiet. Then her eyes welled up. “I thought it was just me,” she whispered.

An old, neglected building covered in graffiti, symbolising the emotional scars and damage left by toxic relationships before the process of rebuilding and healing begins.

You can rebuild yourself.

Session 2: Grieving What Was—and What Wasn’t

By her second session, Maya felt a little more at ease. But as she talked, the grief surfaced.

“I don’t understand why I still miss him,” she said, her voice cracking. “I know he was bad for me, but part of me still wishes we could’ve made it work.”

This emotional confusion is common after abuse. We talked about the cycle of highs and lows that characterise many controlling relationships, how the fleeting moments of tenderness can keep you emotionally hooked. When someone alternates between affection and cruelty, it creates a powerful emotional bond, known as a trauma bond.

We explored the mourning she was experiencing, not just for Jack, but for the version of him she had once believed in. For the future she imagined. For the version of herself who had been silenced, sidelined, or shaped to accommodate him.

You might want to check out this blog: Why You Still Love Them: Understanding Trauma Bonds

Session 3–4: Boundaries as Self-Protection

Maya admitted that Jack had been calling and texting her, promising change and asking for another chance. She didn’t know how to respond; part of her felt guilty for ignoring him.

So we began talking about boundaries. Not as punishment, but as a way to keep herself emotionally safe.

We explored options: blocking his number, changing privacy settings, and limiting contact with mutual friends who were pressuring her to reconcile. We also discussed safety planning in case his behaviour escalated, not because we expected it, but to give her back a sense of agency.

“You don’t owe him a response,” I said. “You’re allowed to protect yourself.”

It was confronting for Maya. She had spent so long managing Jack’s emotions that putting herself first felt alien, even selfish. But she was learning that self-protection is not cruelty. It’s care.

Session 8: Rebuilding from the Inside Out

By our eighth session, Maya was ready to shift focus: from surviving the past to building a future.

We began working on her sense of self, revisiting the parts of her that had been buried under years of criticism. Her creativity. Her independence. Her love of painting and long walks. Slowly, she began reclaiming them.

We also talked about trust, especially trust in herself. “What if I miss the red flags again?” she asked. “What if I choose wrong?”

So we practised tuning into her intuition, using mindfulness to help her notice when something felt off. We focused not just on spotting red flags, but recognising green ones — qualities like emotional availability, consistency, and mutual respect.

Maya’s Journey of Healing

Maya is still healing, but she’s not the same woman who once sat frozen in her car, unsure if she could walk through the door.

Therapy didn’t erase her past, but it gave her the tools to name it, grieve it, and grow beyond it. With time, she found her voice again — and along with it, the freedom to imagine a life on her own terms.

You’re Not Alone

If you’re reading this and some part of Maya’s story feels familiar, know that you’re not alone. Emotional abuse doesn’t always look how we expect it to, but the confusion, grief, and self-doubt it leaves behind are real.

And so is your right to healing.

I’m Kat, a registered counsellor specialising in trauma recovery, including emotional abuse, family violence, and grief.

📍 Based in South East Melbourne
📧 kat@safespacecounsellingservices.com.au
📞 0452 070 738

Ready to talk? I’d be honoured to walk alongside you.

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Feeling Empty Inside? Understanding Emotional Emptiness and the Path to Healing

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Rebuilding After Abuse: Steps to Finding Closure