Why Good Women End Up in Heartbreaking Relationships

I know this one might sting a little.

I want to say that first.

Because if you saw yourself in my last post

the one about the shame-avoidant “good guy” —

you might feel the ache of recognition here too.

And I want you to know this isn’t about blame.

It’s not about taking on more responsibility.

God knows you’ve done that enough times already.

This is about seeing what’s really been happening —

through the lens of love, not shame.

Because for every shame-avoidant “good man,”

there is often a woman who learned to love by disappearing.

She doesn’t pull away like he does.

She leans in.

She gives more.

She stays kind, patient, understanding — even when it hurts.

She senses the smallest shifts in him.

She steadies herself so the connection doesn’t break.

She tells herself it’s compassion — and it is —

but it also comes from a much earlier chapter of her life.

Because somewhere, very young, she learned:

“If I am good enough, calm enough, loving enough…

maybe you’ll stay.”

And I know this place

because it lived in me for decades.

It’s the part that confused care with love.

That thought if I could just hold it all together,

he would finally feel safe enough to meet me.

That believed my tenderness could fix what was broken.

But that kind of “love” is built on shame, not safety.

It’s a nervous system trying to earn belonging.

It’s a heart trying to be chosen by dimming its own light.

The “good girl” version of self-abandonment doesn’t retreat

she tries harder.

She becomes indispensable.

She tucks her truth behind empathy.

She holds back her pain so no one leaves.

And just like the “good guy,”

she’s not manipulative — she’s afraid.

Afraid that her truth will cost her connection.

Afraid that if she stops being good,

she’ll stop being loved.

But here’s the thing:

The part of you that learned to love this way

it’s not wrong.

It’s brilliant.

It kept you safe when safety wasn’t there.

And now…

it’s just tired.

So very, very tired.

What I want to whisper to you is this isn’t about fixing yourself.

Nor is it about fixing him.

It’s about coming home to yourself.

It’s about tending to the places inside you that never got held the way they needed

the young ones who worked so hard for love,

who learned to be good, to be easy, to be grateful for crumbs.

It’s about letting love start with you.

The kind that doesn’t require you to be smaller,

kinder, quieter,

or more patient than you already are.

The kind that meets you in your fullness

even when you’re messy, angry, grieving, or afraid.

Because real love won’t ask you to earn it.

It will meet you in your truth.

And maybe that’s where your healing begins

not in trying to be good enough to stay loved,

but in allowing the most tender parts of you to be seen and held…

first by you,

and eventually by someone who can meet you.

Because shame got there first.

But it doesn’t get to have the last word.