I’m 24 and my partner, Rory (fake names), just turned 22. We’ve been together for about a year and four months and we currently live together.
I feel like I’m standing at a crossroads and I’m terrified of choosing wrong. I love Rory, but I don’t feel emotionally safe anymore, and I don’t know how to tell whether this relationship still has a future.
In the beginning the relationship felt really special. We connected deeply, had similar values, and I felt understood in ways I hadn’t before.
But early on things became complicated.
At one point I became pregnant. I had severe morning sickness and was also preparing myself emotionally to have an abortion. It was an extremely difficult time both physically and mentally.
During that time, most of my energy ended up going into taking care of Rory. They were struggling badly with the pregnancy emotionally and their anxiety was overwhelming. There were several times where I was physically sick and emotionally devastated, but I still found myself holding them and trying to keep them stable.
There were days where Rory didn’t even ask how I was doing.
I went through the abortion while also carrying a lot of their emotional distress, and that experience really stayed with me because it felt like even during one of the hardest moments of my life, I was still responsible for keeping both of us afloat.
Within a month after the abortion, there was also an incident that I now recognise as an accidental sexual assault. I don’t believe Rory intended to harm me, and they felt deep shame and remorse afterwards, but it still affected my sense of safety.
When that happened, it also triggered a lot of past trauma for Rory. Because of that, my focus immediately shifted to supporting them through what they were going through.
I never really got the chance to process the abortion or the assault myself. Everything I had just experienced got pushed aside so I could be there for Rory while they worked through what it brought up for them.
We never really revisited my mental health after that.
Over time another pattern started becoming clear: consistency.
Whenever something goes wrong between us, Rory will feel intense guilt and promise to change. For a few days they really try — they become attentive, affectionate, reflective, and things feel hopeful again. But after a couple of days the effort fades and we slowly fall back into the same patterns.
Because of that, I’ve started to feel like I’m the one holding the relationship together. I’m the one initiating conversations about our problems, initiating repair, initiating intimacy, and trying to understand what’s happening between us. It often feels like my needs and feelings aren’t really being prioritised.
Another factor in all of this is that Rory has a porn addiction and a long history of very self-destructive sexual behaviour. They’ve told me that I’m the first healthy sexual relationship they’ve ever had. I understand that they’re trying to unlearn a lot of things, but it means intimacy between us has often been complicated and sometimes painful.
There have also been times where I was in very serious emotional distress, including moments where I was suicidal, and Rory wasn’t able to show up for me in the way I needed. I don’t think it was cruelty — I think they were overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle it — but those moments left a mark.
More recently, another issue affected my trust involving one of Rory’s friends, Nina. For most of our relationship Rory reassured me that there had never been anything between them and that I had nothing to worry about.
I believed them and tried to push aside my own discomfort about some of Nina’s behaviour, telling myself that they were just very close, affectionate friends.
But about three weeks ago Rory admitted that they had actually suspected at various points in the past that Nina might have liked them romantically. They said they were never interested in Nina, but that there had been some strange behaviour.
When they told me this, it hit me really hard. For months I had been questioning my own instincts and convincing myself that I was just being paranoid. I ignored a lot of things that had made me uncomfortable because I trusted Rory’s reassurance.
So when they finally admitted they had noticed the same signs, it felt like everything I had pushed down came crashing back all at once.
That night I was spiralling in bed about it, feeling insecure, jealous, and scared that I might not be enough.
While I was in that state, Rory went downstairs and relapsed with porn after we had set a clear boundary around it.
They later admitted that it wasn’t about me, it was about escaping their own feelings. I understand that intellectually, but emotionally it still feels like a betrayal. The timing of it hurt deeply.
Since then we’ve been trying to repair things. We even created a two-week “trial period” where Rory committed to certain behaviours to rebuild trust. But even during that time they struggled to follow through consistently.
At this point I feel completely torn.
I still love Rory. When things are good, they can be thoughtful, reflective, and genuinely caring. I can see that they struggle deeply with shame and emotional regulation, and I believe they want to change.
But I also feel exhausted and worn down by the repeated cycles. I feel like I’m constantly trying to keep the relationship alive while my own needs are pushed aside.
There is also a practical reality that makes this decision much harder. I’m very financially dependent on Rory right now. If I left the relationship, I would most likely lose my home and become homeless again. The last time that happened I at least had somewhere to couch surf, but this time I don’t have that safety net.
So leaving doesn’t just feel like an emotional decision — it feels like it could completely destabilise my life.
Because of all of this, sometimes it feels like I can’t survive either inside this relationship or outside of it.
I don’t hate Rory for the things that have happened. I don’t hold everything against them forever. I truly hope they can change.
But I also feel like I’ve tried everything I know how to try.
If you were in my position, would you keep trying to repair the relationship, or would you start preparing to leave?
And how do you know when you’ve genuinely tried enough?
I’m not looking for people to judge Rory or tell me what I “should” do. I think I just need perspective from people who aren’t inside the situation like I am. Even hearing how others would think through this would really help.
