The Person Who Made Me, and Undid Me, All at Once

Have you ever been so defined by someone or something that it made you and broke you at the same time?

That was him for me.
Nine years ago, I met someone who changed my life forever.

He wasn’t just a person.
He was a mirror.

A reflection of everything I loved about myself and everything I couldn’t stand.
He offered a kind of safety I didn’t know I needed. A space to be fully seen.

In my sharpest self-criticism, he met me with stillness.
When I was harsh, demanding, or unkind, he stayed. He didn’t flinch.
And when I softened when I was passionate, caring & tender, he received me like I was God’s greatest gift to the world.

He didn’t just witness me.
He saw me.

And in that seeing, something in me shifted.
I had spent years hiding parts of myself I thought were unlovable.
But in one encounter, those parts were brought to light.
Not as flaws. But as humanity.

That moment, meeting him, wasn’t just a chapter.
It was a rupture in the timeline.
A line drawn between who I was before, and who I would never again be after.

Years have passed.
He’s long gone.
The memory has softened. But the impact remains.

This isn’t a nostalgic plea for what was.
It’s not about needing something back.

It’s reverence.
Gratitude.
For the shift that never unshifted.

He owed me nothing. But he gave me everything, just by choosing to see me.
And maybe that came from his own story—his own pain. I’ll never fully know.

But I do know this:

The best way I can honor it now…
is to pay it forward.
To be that space for someone else.
To offer the kind of presence that doesn’t fix or judge, but simply sees.

Because in the end, that’s enough.

That’s always been enough.