Still Trying to Move On: A Moment of Clarity

Last week, I blocked Patrick on social media, again. Not to keep him from seeing my posts—Facebook warns me he still can through other profiles—but to put a barrier between us. A barrier to keep me from seeing his profile. Stopping me from waiting, wondering, or watching for something that will not come.

In the last two weeks during my train trip, I have met so many kind people. Strangers, really—but many have shown more empathy and care in brief conversations than I ever received from him. He was lacking the one thing I most needed—compassion.

Patrick had many traits I once thought were essential. But I now realize I never prioritized the most vital one: empathy. That was the root of most of our conflict. I live with anxiety and intrusive thoughts. When I struggled, I did not need solutions—I needed presence. A gentle word. A kind response. Instead, I was having to constantly defend my need to step away, which only made the anxiety worse. Although something he said or didn't say may have triggered a thought, it usually had nothing to do with him directly—a concept Patrick could not grasp nor accept. I was often left to manage my anxiety and the additional conflict alone.

One defining moment happened in May 2022, not even three months into the relationship. He said: “I’m glad I don’t need to try anymore.” I questioned him, and he told me I misunderstood. Maybe I did—but his actions afterward supported what he said. He stopped trying. I didn’t. He was sick of hearing about my anxiety, and even said he didn't treat me like I had anxiety—no kidding, that is the reason I had to keep mentioning it!

I showed up every day. I intended to try for the rest of my life. Because relationships require effort. They require showing up on hard days. They require the willingness to understand each other, even when it is uncomfortable or inconvenient. I spent many hours working with a professional to understand and work through some of the challenges I faced such as the fear of being on camera, which was a lifelong fear from way back in grade school. Patrick did not understand at all—later even making fun of me for taking months to be on camera. These remarks still circulate through my head.

There were little things—like when I shared the Māori word for autism, “takiwātanga,” as a way to help him understand me. It means “in their own time and space.” Instead of appreciating it, he began using it to describe himself. Another time, I was overwhelmed because my plants were dying. I thought he could help me—he knew about gardening. Instead of encouragement or guidance, he responded with criticism and indifference.

There were many moments like that.

No, I do not pray for punishment. I pray that God softens his heart. That he comes to understand the difference between having a relationship with God and having a relationship with the Jehovah’s Witness organization. Right now, what he has is not a relationship with God at all—it is a relationship with JW, guised as something spiritual.

God is not found in rules, control, or appearances. He is found everywhere—in connection, compassion, and truth. I pray that one day Patrick sees the difference and chooses God Himself. Not only for the promise of eternal life, but for how God wants us to live this life—with kindness, love, and accountability.

God presented him with a good woman—someone who loved him, stood by him, and only wanted connection and understanding. God does not miss anything. One day, Patrick will have to answer for how he treated me throughout our relationship. I was discarded like yesterday’s trash, but I am not trash. I am someone who loves deeply, gives her best, and still believes love is worth the work.

Hebrews 4:13

"Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account."