The Opposite of Love
When did I become someone you hate? When did you start to hate me?
Friendship turns to love. Love turns to hate. If you’re lucky, hate turns into ambivalence—a journey in which delicate connections unravel, transforming from friendship to love to hate, and finally fading into ambivalence, guiding you back to reclaiming yourself.
It feels as if he hates you. He must. Why else would he say all these awful things to you and about you? What other reason is there for someone to deliberately cause and inflict pain on someone who is trying to make the relationship work and who is giving and asking for love? The only logical reason is hate; he must hate you. For what? You don’t know.
One moment, you recall his laughter, his whispered promises of forever, and the gentle way he used to hold you. I’ll do whatever it takes for us, for this relationship. I want us to remember this love. These memories are like a distant and faint echo, muddled by the bitterness seeping from him now. Your heart sinks as you try to remember the last time you truly felt safe and cherished in this relationship. You begin to question everything. Was it your fault? Did you not try hard enough? This doubt churns inside, heartache throbbing from the storm of his unexpected withdrawal and rejection. The warmth of the sun is clouded by an icy tundra.
When did this joy ride go from cloud 9, romance, and butterflies in the so-called honeymoon phase, to utter misery? Somewhere along the way — before you’re fully aware — this journey takes a nosedive, transforming from blissful happiness to something unrecognizable.
Unfortunately, that’s a painful and real part of abuse. Imagine the love you once received being warped like a fairy tale, turning into a horror story. The once sweet and endearing sentiments they complimented you for suddenly and unexpectedly become twisted into the most putrid qualities about you. It’s as if the beautiful melody you shared has been distorted into a dissonant noise that grates on your spirit. I love the way you think, becomes, you always have to analyze everything — you make life miserable. And, I like how you are good with your words and how you articulate yourself, transforms into, you talk to me like I’m stupid! You just think I’m beneath you. Or, I like how deep you are and that you go to therapy and work on yourself, suddenly is, therapy makes you selfish and self-centered; you don’t have your own thoughts!
“Weaponized admiration” — where your strengths are turned against you, leaving you questioning your self-worth and sanity. Recognizing this pattern is crucial in understanding that such criticisms are not reflections of you but are meant to undermine and control.
When this shift occurs, it feels like a magic carpet ride that loses its wind and dramatically plummets. No warning. No mercy. One moment, you’re swept up in romance; the next, you’re falling to your death.
After the first time you hear him express these new sentiments to you, you remember feeling destabilized. I don’t know what to believe. I just feel like you hate me now. I… I… I don’t understand. You tell him this with confusion. Your mind becomes littered with doubt: Am I hearing him wrong? Maybe he’s right about me. Maybe I am as awful as he says. During the light of day, in reconciliation, he tells you he ‘over-reacted,’ and insists, ‘I do love those things about you.’ But you’re unsure what to believe. Is this real or just an illusion?
And it doesn’t happen just once. It happens over, and over, and over. The hiss of a joke, the passive-aggressive jab, the silent treatment — it all blends into a relentless pattern, a constant drumbeat reminding you of the endless loop you’re trapped in and can’t escape. You’re a prisoner, and this pattern is your captor.
When someone says something negative about you, and it feels like a personal dig, but they respond with “it’s just a joke,” do you kind of feel like there is some truth behind it? Does it cause you to wonder?
When someone repeatedly criticizes what they once praised you for, you start to question what’s true. This is a hallmark of gaslighting — a form of psychological manipulation that makes you doubt your perceptions and memories. Reality feels rewritten until you second-guess even your own past. This is where you begin testing your own memories and determining the truth behind these shifting narratives. I’m starting to question if I’m misremembering things, you confide in your best friend. The poison is doing its work, spreading through your psyche, casting doubt everywhere.
And if this comes from the very person you gave your heart to, invest all your time and energy in, and who also praises you one minute but then tears you down in the next, do you feel the once stable ground beneath you start to crumble?
This becomes daily life: not knowing which version of him you’ll get. Will your intelligence be celebrated or weaponized? Is who you are a trait to treasure, or a flaw to punish? Are you worthy of love or his rage today?
Imagine living in this constant uncertainty. The ground shakes under you. Your nerves go into overdrive. Are you safe, or ever relaxed? Would you live on edge and in fear? And what if you felt alone? Who would you turn to? More importantly, what would you do if he told you all of this made you “crazy” or that you need to “grow the fuck up”? Where do you go when even your pain is denied, dismissed as childish, or met with mockery?
No one sees how, underneath the surface of your daily confusion and fear, lives an unbearable pain. It isn’t punctuated by broken bones or black eyes, which makes it damn near impossible to take seriously. It’s a silent war within, an assault on the mind and soul that often goes unnoticed. But would it be different if this emotional anguish were accompanied by a busted lip or broken nose? Does the nervous system’s constant vigilance not warrant being taken seriously?
It takes a unique kind of logic to understand this hate and this pattern, how his love snarls and contorts itself into something you can’t understand or recognize anymore. Realistically, and despite your exhausted efforts, this isn’t a scenario that bears any logic whatsoever. And that’s a hopeless and heartbreaking part of this love story. Your mind searches for answers, begs for this to make sense, but you end up empty-handed and broken-hearted. Shattered in ways you could never have imagined.
The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indifference.
In the aftermath, you wake up one morning and notice a shift. After months of living in this pressure and uncertainty, you feel love for him slip away and transform into something new: indifference. This becomes a quiet exhale after months of holding your breath, shrinking, breaking, and keeping the peace. It’s the balm for the pain from the answers you never received from someone who only ever gave you questions, fear, and doubt. The future, once clouded by his gaslighting, rage, rejection, and manipulation, starts to clear, like clouds parting in the sky.
With love, you were his prisoner. In this indifference, you are breaking free.
