Bayshore Drive had never felt so beautiful. Each shop more brilliant than the next and each restaurant buzzed with energy and laughter. Through the Banyan trees, I could see the light dancing off the water, which sparkled in the sun.
We were back home in St. Petersburg and walking into his sunset—one that he had masterfully painted himself.
Besides the champagne toast a thousand feet up in the air—he had done it again—proving his love valiantly at the top of the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the city I loved most.
And as we walked hand in hand down the waterfront boulevard, all I wanted to do was show off my beautiful engagement ring and tell our story to anyone who was willing to listen, but I couldn’t.
And that’s how it always worked.
There would be these magical moments—orchestrated with emotion, texture, and tone—causing me to fall under a spell, sometimes lasting hours and sometimes days, until it wore off—leaving me withdrawn, confused, and unable to discern the truth from reality.
Without realizing it, these ups and downs had started taking a toll—glitches that left me second-guessing myself – hypervigilant—chasing down shadows that I just couldn’t see.
There was a whirlwind to our romance that required a level of engagement that had me neglecting my own truth, and the irony of him placing a ring on my finger that didn’t fit—after making such a grand gesture—caused the record to skip again and again.
But, I wouldn’t let myself rest in a place of my own knowing, even after the jeweler confirmed he had my ring size. I rationalized it away, it was just a matter of resizing it and going back to the store to pick it up. After I did, I got back in the car, slipped it onto my finger, and all the magic returned—the proof that allowed the music to play again.
Settling back into my apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked down at my finger with a sense of pride and accomplishment. We did it, I did it. And in that moment, I could feel the warmth of the sun streaming in through the front window, meeting me in the stillness of the day—until my pride gave way to a familiar sound—an email coming through on my laptop
As I double-clicked on his message, my heart started racing again.
Next week: Chapter 4—The Art of War. The email that changed everything
After writing Chapter 3, I wanted to offer something more than my own words. So I did the research—to find a clinical, science-based explanation that might give language to what some readers are living through themselves.
While I’m not a therapist or psychologist, I am a certified coach, and what I’m sharing below is grounded in established psychological principles—freely available and offered in the spirit of support and clarity.
What I found was so profoundly accurate, I didn’t want to change any of it.
This is how therapists, trauma-informed coaches, and even some psychiatrists might describe what I was experiencing:
“Those magical moments—orchestrated with emotion, texture, and tone—align with something called love bombing or emotional manipulation. It’s when intense affection and grand gestures create a kind of high that feels like a drug, releasing dopamine and oxytocin. It can feel euphoric—even sacred. But it’s not love.
Falling under a spell is often part of a trauma bond. The brain craves those emotional highs, and when they vanish, you crash. You start to feel dysregulated, disoriented.
Withdrawn, confused, unable to discern truth from reality—these are the aftershocks. This is what emotional abuse and gaslighting can do. They don’t always show up as bruises. Sometimes, they just leave you questioning your own instincts.
Hypervigilance and chasing shadows you can’t see is what happens when your nervous system has been hijacked. Therapists call this C-PTSD, codependency, or unresolved relational trauma. Your brain starts scanning for danger before your body even knows why.”
At the time, I had no idea this is what was happening. I just knew something felt off—and yet, I stayed. I kept trying to earn peace. Trying to make the magic moments last longer. Trying to hold onto the ring that didn’t fit.
If you’ve ever felt like this—if you’ve ever found yourself chasing shiny objects, hoping they’d prove your worth or secure your safety—please hear me:
You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. And you’re not alone.
You may be stuck in a cycle your nervous system didn’t ask for—but has gotten used to.
And naming that? That’s where the healing begins.
Thank you for being part of this journey.
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Friday, June 20 from 12–1 PM ET
Details to follow.
An experience designed to lead you forward.
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