Stories are written by people who don’t necessarily work or study in fields related to sexology. They convey emotions, perceptions, and subjective perspectives. Opinions voiced in the stories are those of their authors, and in no way represent the position of Les 3 sex*.

Ce témoignage est aussi disponible en français [➦].

Translated by Florence Bois-Villeneuve.

Violence. Having studied intervention, I have long been aware of the various forms it can take and the power dynamics it creates. In intimate relationships, I consider it inadmissible, undesirable, and unacceptable. It is the antithesis of what love should be: sincere, generous, and free.

And yet.

In December 2022, three months after a difficult and painful breakup, I saw an ex-lover for the first time since our relationship ended. Summoning all her courage, she told me that I had behaved violently towards her during our time together. My immediate reaction was one of incomprehension and physical discomfort, like a boiling sensation radiating from my lower abdomen to my ears. At that moment, I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. I recognized that I had been clumsy, but violent? My physical reaction was (too) intense. It scratched at something fragile inside me, but I couldn’t yet grasp what it was. After questioning her further, she provided concrete examples of my behaviour that felt violent to her: passive-aggressive comments, difficulty moving on after conflicts, and withdrawing into myself. As I could recall each example she gave, I had no choice but to acknowledge my faults. I had never hit, blackmailed, or insulted her. The behaviours she described were more subtle, more insidious. So subtle, in fact, that I was unaware of the dynamics I was creating through these actions. This realization brought me great pain and a strong sense of shame. An even greater discomfort than before: that of seeing myself through the lens of my actions. It was a significant shock. In the days and weeks that followed, my thoughts became chaotic, and I could no longer see clearly. I needed help.

I turned to my therapist, a steady guide for me. After recounting the events and expressing my feelings of guilt and failure, she brought me back to a basic principle: the function of behaviours. It turns out that behind many of our actions lies a need. What need was I trying to fulfill with these insidious actions? Through introspection, I discovered that I constantly feel in danger in my relationships. I’m afraid of being hurt, abandoned, rejected. My fear of disappointing others makes it difficult to express my needs and boundaries honestly and appropriately. As a result, I try to be kind, gentle, and accommodating. I give myself little space and quickly feel trapped. I feel as if I’m not being listened to or considered, which leads me to lash out in subtle ways. Because of my inability to articulate things clearly, I hurt others in an attempt to be seen. Instead of listening to myself and expressing what I feel, I withdraw and snap out of reflex. I create stories of my own, projecting my doubts and fears onto others. And the more I spiral, the more hurtful I become.

Awareness is crucial, of course, but it does not justify or excuse my past actions. I needed to take responsibility, take action, and make amends. In hindsight, I understand that ending violent behaviour means accepting vulnerability, both with myself and with others. It means admitting that I am fallible, recognizing my limits, and stating them clearly, with respect for myself and others. It involves accepting my fears and choosing myself, even if it might displease others. Reminding myself that I am not in constant danger and do not need to act as if I am. It’s about being able to reach out after difficult situations, to listen, and to find better ways of being together. Finally, it’s about remembering that I am responsible for my own well-being, and that romantic relationships are not power struggles where we must perform. They are relationships of equality that we work on, build, and can end without it being a success or failure. Now, I also understand that when I close myself off in silence, I am primarily being violent towards myself.

So, I continue therapy, learn to give myself space, and strive to do things differently.