The Day I Chose Myself Over Love—and Found Something Better

We met at a friend’s party. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he had warm eyes and spoke gently. On our first date, he rode his bike through the rain to pick me up, and brought along my favorite coconut pudding.

He said I was thoughtful, different.

That I was “like sunshine,” brightening his life and giving him something to believe in again.

At the beginning, I really believed I had found someone who understood me.

But over time, things changed.

He said I talked too much with male coworkers, and that it made him feel insecure.

He said I dressed too boldly—he didn’t want other men looking at me.

He said I was always so busy that maybe I didn’t even care about “our future.”

And then there was hiking.

I’ve loved hiking since college. Not for competition—but for peace. I loved the sound of my own breath, my footsteps, the trees.

But he didn’t like it.

He said it was dangerous. He didn’t like the people I hiked with. He said he “couldn’t relax when I was out there with them.”

Eventually, I stopped going.

I stopped posting on social media.

I declined a relocation offer at work.

I skipped outings with friends.

I put all my energy into making our life “stable,” into keeping him from feeling uncomfortable.

I thought that if I just cared enough, we’d be fine.

But every fight ended with me apologizing.

He broke something—I cleaned it.

He shut down for days—I was the one to reach out.

I found myself walking on eggshells, afraid that being “too independent” might push him away.

Then one day, he looked at me and said:

“You’re not the same person I fell in love with anymore.”

I didn’t answer. But I knew he was right.

The moment that really broke me was when my mother came to visit.

She looked at me for a long time, then quietly said:

“Sweetheart… You don’t look like yourself anymore.”

That’s when I started crying.

Not because of him.

But because I realized—I had slowly erased myself trying to keep someone else comfortable.

The day we broke up, he said:

“I don’t even know what happened. I guess I was just scared of losing you.”

I nodded.

And I told him:

“I was afraid of losing you too. But I was more afraid of losing myself.”

After That, I Started Hiking Again

Not to reclaim the past—but to reconnect with myself.

Up in the mountains, with nothing but wind and dirt and my heartbeat, I felt my energy returning.

At a coffee stand after one hike, I met a Chinese girl. We started chatting, and she told me she was studying Eastern energy concepts.

She looked at me and said:

“I think you carry a strong Earth energy. You seem to feel better when you’re grounded—when you’re touching soil, walking on trails, or even wearing the color yellow. These things bring you luck.”

I smiled politely. I didn’t think much of it—but I also didn’t reject it.

A few days later, I bought a long yellow dress. It had been years since I wore anything so bright. When I put it on, I barely recognized myself in the mirror—in a good way.

And That’s the Day I Met My Fiancé

I wore that yellow dress to a friend’s birthday party.

He walked up to me and said:

“You look like a sunflower in that dress.”

Then he added, smiling:

“I know it sounds cheesy, but I remember thinking—maybe I could be your sun.”

I laughed. It was ridiculous and sweet.

And for the first time in a long time, I laughed without faking it.

When I Ordered a Custom Bracelet from WUYU, I Shared This Story

I told them I wanted a bracelet with grounding, earthy energy. Not just for style—but because I wanted to hold on to the part of me that I had finally recovered.

The designer listened quietly, then said something I’ll never forget:

“If being around someone makes you feel wrong—even if they seem to offer you something good—walk away.”

Now, I wear that bracelet on my right wrist whenever I go hiking.

And every time I look at it, I remember:

I didn’t lose him.

I finally found myself.