I met a corper during NYSC camp, and after camp, we started talking and eventually started dating. At the time, he didn’t have much. But honestly, I wasn’t looking at what he had. I was looking at what we could build together. I was willing to grow with him. I got posted to Port Harcourt, while he was still trying to get his own posting. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out for him, so he had to stay back in Ondo State. Three months into the relationship, I travelled by night bus to visit him. I didn’t just go there empty-handed. I bought provisions and foodstuff for him and his friends because I knew he was staying in his quarters. I was a corps member too, so I didn’t have plenty, but I still did what I could. There were times he would call me and say he hadn’t eaten. I would find a way to help. Sometimes, I would even go to my father’s store, pick up a few things and send them to him. I did these things because I loved him, not because anybody forced me. Then one day, I made a prank that I thought would simply show me how he would react in a difficult situation. I told him I was pregnant. His reaction shocked me. He overreacted, and suddenly, the person I had been building with started making me feel like I had been begging for his love all along. When I eventually told him it was a prank and sincerely apologized, I thought that would be the end of it. I begged him. I explained myself. I told him I never intended for things to get this far and that I didn’t want us to break up. But he had already made up his mind. He said he wasn’t worthy of me and that I should find someone who was. I kept begging. I even asked a fellow corps member who knew about our relationship to help me talk to him. I asked my younger sister to call him and plead with him on my behalf. I begged for over a month. At one point, I asked him if there was anything I could do to make him forgive me. He told me to send him ₦5,000. I didn’t even have ₦5,000 readily available. I had to make calls and find a way to get the money because, at that point, I was desperate to save the relationship. I sent it. And still, nothing changed. That was when something inside me finally broke. I realized I had lost myself while trying so hard to keep someone else. Eventually, I blocked him everywhere. I deleted our pictures and videos, not because the memories meant nothing, but because I needed space to heal. And honestly, I’m not ashamed of what I did for him. I don’t regret loving him. I don’t regret helping him. I don’t regret believing in him when he didn’t have much. Because I wasn't a gold digger. I was a woman who genuinely loved someone and was willing to grow with him. Almost six months later, he called me. I didn’t even know it was him at first. He told me he had realized that he overreacted. He apologized and asked me to forgive him. And I asked him, “After six months, you realized?” By then, I had already moved on. I told him I wasn’t looking for a relationship at that moment. I was trying to find myself again because somewhere along the way, I had lost myself trying to please him. Then he asked if we could at least be friends. I told him no. I reminded him of his own words when he said he couldn’t see himself loving me again or even being friends with me, because stopping communication would help him heal. So I told him the same thing: I can’t see myself loving you again, and I can’t see myself being friends with you either. I genuinely wish you well, but please stop reaching out to me. I have moved on. And today, I can honestly say I’m okay. I’ve healed. I’m not desperate for a relationship, but I’m open to love again—not just any kind of relationship, but one where I am loved, respected, cherished and valued. I want a love where I don’t have to beg to be chosen. A love where effort goes both ways. A love where someone knows my value and understands that losing me would actually mean losing someone precious. - @sweetchichi37