“What happened to me? I used to feel so vibrant and capable.”
That’s what Leila keeps wondering.
Last year this time, she was a totally different woman. Confident. Articulate. Funny. Sharp as a boxcutter. She had ideas. Big ideas. And flawless instincts that she could bet the house on and win big almost every day of the week.
But then she met Derek. At first things were amazing with him.
At first.
But then, a few months in, came the subtle jabs, circular conversations that went nowhere, broken promises that left her feeling needy, gaslighting that left her feeling foolish, and love that felt more like surveillance. Now Leila can barely hear herself think anymore.
She second-guesses every word now. Apologizes for having feelings like sadness or fear. Lies awake at night replaying conversations and worrying that every well-meaning thing she said was somehow wrong and spawned this brutal drama.
But the thing is this. Leila didn’t lose her mind in one moment. It was stolen, inch by inch. Smiled away with charm. Drowned out by drama. Erased with every gaslit apology.
Now Derek is gone. But the ache still lingers in her soul like a creeping shadow.
And here’s the part no one tells you: Getting out is just the first step. Getting your mind back? That’s the real recovery. And sadly, most people never reach anywhere close to that level.
If you’ve been here, say so. If you’re still here, keep reading.
That Dang Creeping Shadow.
You’ve blocked them. You’ve deleted the texts. You’ve thrown out the photos and muted the playlists that make your chest ache. But somehow, they’re still living in your head, rearranging your thoughts like a Rubik’s Cube on crack.
That’s the shadow.
It’s not about missing the narcissist. It’s about missing the version of you who hadn’t been broken down yet. The version who trusted her instincts. The version who didn’t walk around feeling like she had to justify every emotion. That shadow is what’s left behind when you’ve spent too long being told your reality is wrong.
You question your memories. You feel guilty for setting boundaries. You wonder if it was really abuse or if maybe you just overreacted. You replay old arguments hoping to finally win them in your head.
And that’s how the narcissist keeps winning, even when they’re long gone.
Addicted to the Push and Pull
You didn’t fall in love. You were pulled into a pattern.
What felt like passion and intensity was actually a psychological loop, a cycle of reward and punishment that mimics addiction. The narcissist gave just enough love to hook you, then pulled it away to keep you chasing. Every compliment, every apology, every “I need you” after a period of silence became a high.
A hit.
A rush.
Your nervous system learned to wait for the next emotional payout. And because the rewards were inconsistent, they became even more powerful. That’s not romance. That’s intermittent reinforcement, which gives huge dopamine surges. It’s the exact same strategy casinos use to keep people glued to slot machines.
Meanwhile, your brain was soaking in way too much cortisol, like a candle flame doused in gasoline. You’re always watching them to try and predict and manage their moods so there is not another bad day. You were always bracing for the next passive-aggressive comment, the next explosion. That chronic stress wires your body to stay in survival mode, where vigilance replaces intuition and anxiety feels like love.
So when the relationship ends, your body doesn’t relax. It panics. The silence feels like abandonment. The calm feels like something is wrong. And you start to crave the same chaos that hurt you. Not because you want it, but because your system was trained to need it.
How to Get Your Grind Back.
Let’s just be real about one thing. You won’t get your grind back all at once. It’s going to take time and effort.
There’s no magic ritual that unhooks you from someone who trained your brain to see them as home, even when that home was a war zone.
But you can take it back. Day by day. Boundary by boundary. Breath by breath.
Here’s how the process really begins:
1. Name What Happened
Stop calling it a toxic relationship.
Start calling it what it was. Emotional abuse, manipulation, psychological warfare.
Naming it gives your mind permission to stop rewriting history.
2. Rebuild Your Inner Voice
After months or years of being talked over, shut down, or emotionally shamed, your inner voice doesn’t vanish. It just goes quiet.
Start small:
What do I need right now?
What do I feel about this person?
What do I know is true, even if it makes someone else uncomfortable?
3. Retrain Your Body to Feel Safe
Your nervous system needs to learn that calm doesn’t mean danger.
Walk. Breathe. Lift weights. Sit still. Dance. Do something physical every day that reconnects your body to the present moment instead of the past.
4. Stop Waiting for Closure
You don’t need their apology, their understanding, or their acknowledgment.
You need your truth, your safety, your future. That’s the real closure, baby.
5. Create a Practice of Reclamation
Healing isn’t passive or automatic. It’s something you do intentionally.
Build your vibes, girl. You deserve it!
Your grind (hustle, confidence, groove) didn’t just randomly evaporate. It was silenced. Overridden. Twisted into something grotesque and small to make someone else feel powerful. But it’s still there. Deep inside you. Like a badass princess trapped in a dungeon. You don’t wait for some rando to throw down a rope. You claw your way out by rebuilding trust with yourself.
That’s why I created the Emotional Recovery Journal. It’s a 30-day practice designed to help you rebuild your voice, your clarity, and your sense of self.
You don’t need a therapist’s permission or your abuser’s validation to begin. You just need a safe place to start.
This is that place. And today is the day.
[Download the free journal here]