What to Do When the Love Isn’t Mutual

Let’s name the ache—because pretending it doesn’t hurt will only make it fester.

There’s a special kind of heartbreak that comes from loving someone who does not, or cannot, love you back. And for those of us who carry the scars of incest or childhood sexual abuse, that ache doesn’t show up in isolation. It collides with old grief. It pulls the thread of rejection from the past and wraps it tight around our present. It reactivates the part of us that still believes we must earn love, prove our worth, or endure the absence as if it were normal.

But let me say this to your heart right now:

It is not your fault that they do not love you.

And it is not proof that you are unlovable.

Honor Your Heartbreak—Without Turning Against Yourself

Feel it. Cry if you need to. Rage if that’s what’s honest. Journal, scream into a pillow, or sit in stillness and let the tears speak for you.

But don’t add shame to the sorrow.

You are not “too much” because this hurts.

You are not broken because you hoped this would be more.

You are simply human—a deeply feeling, deeply loving human—coming to terms with an emotional mismatch. Their inability to meet you in love says far more about their capacity than your value.

Is It Love—Or Is It a Trauma Bond?

Be curious, not critical.

Ask yourself:

• Am I drawn to them because I feel safe, nourished, and emotionally held?
• Or am I clinging because they remind me of someone I once had to chase for crumbs of care?

Sometimes what we call “chemistry” is just familiarity—the familiar feeling of not being enough, of chasing closeness, of longing for validation.

That’s not love. That’s reenactment. And you deserve more than a recycled survival pattern.

Ground Yourself in the Now

Breathe. Come back to your body.

You are not that child anymore—the one who had to earn every drop of affection, who confused attention with safety, who thought being chosen meant being worthy.

Say this out loud:

• “I am no longer a child needing to be chosen to survive.”
• “I am worthy of a love that is given, not forced.”
• “I get to choose now. I get to walk away.”

Use breathwork, movement, nature, or sensory grounding to reconnect with the present version of you—the one who has already survived the worst and is now building something different.

Clarify Your Needs—Even If It Breaks the Illusion

Stop performing. Stop shrinking. Stop waiting for them to finally see you.

Ask yourself:

• What do I need to feel emotionally safe, valued, and nourished?
• Can I keep showing up fully in a relationship that only meets me halfway?

There is no prize for enduring emotional starvation.

You don’t have to stay in limbo to prove you’re lovable.

You are allowed to want more. You are allowed to leave what doesn’t align with your healing.

Find Your People—The Ones Who Can Hold This With You

This isn’t a wound you need to carry in silence.

Reach for someone safe. A trauma-informed therapist. A support group. A friend who has done their healing work and can listen without trying to fix you or minimize your pain.

Tell them the truth. Let them mirror your worth. Let them remind you that this isn’t the end of your story.

You are allowed to grieve. And you are allowed to be witnessed in it.

Write to the Child Inside You

There’s a younger version of you who still believes that being rejected means you’re unworthy. That child is likely the one aching the loudest right now.

Take a moment. Grab a journal. Write to them:

• “You didn’t deserve to be ignored, neglected, or abandoned back then. And you don’t deserve it now.”
• “We are safe now. We get to walk away from love that hurts.”
• “You are precious. You are not too much. You are worthy of gentle, mutual, soul-deep love.”

Let your adult self reassure the child within that they are no longer stuck in that old cycle.

Make a Decision That Honors Your Healing—not Your Fear

Maybe you stay and renegotiate the terms of the relationship. Maybe you walk away and make space for a love that actually meets you.

Whatever you choose, make sure it’s not rooted in your fear of being alone—or in your fantasy that they will finally wake up and love you the way you deserve.

Make a decision that reflects your healing, not your hoping.

And if you feel torn, ask yourself:

“Would I want the child version of me to stay in this relationship?”

Let the answer guide you.

Final Words for Your Heart

You are not weak for wanting love. You are not broken because this hurts. You are not foolish for believing it could be different.

You are powerful—for looking your pain in the eye and choosing to face it with tenderness and truth.

You are brave—for loving even after everything you’ve been through.

And you are worthy—always worthy—of the kind of love that sees you, claims you, and grows with you.

If your heart is still heavy, you’re not alone. I see you. And if you’d like support writing a letter to your partner, your inner child, or your future self… I’d be honored to help you find the words.

You don’t have to carry this alone.

Not anymore.

— From the heart of Holey House 🖤