Someone sent me a message asking me to do a rant on a very popular book here on Wattpad, but you guys know I never mention specific stories, so I asked her what her main problem was with the story and that’s the subject of today’s rant: Unhealthy Relationships.

And I’ve decided that the best way to help people spot unhealthy romances (and try to stay as far away from this controversial Wattpad story as possible (the requester complained about abuse, but I thought I’d broaden and dilute it a bit)) is to tell you about an actual unhealthy relationship. The best research is nonfiction.)

So sit back and relax. It’s story time. Again. Go me. (I’m too damn lazy to research.)

Anyway, the unhealthiest relationship I was ever in was in high school. It was on again, off again from the time I was about fifteen until just before I turned eighteen, and really, it was probably nowhere near as unhealthy as the one the requester was trying to describe, but I think you’ll get the point I’m trying to illustrate.

I first started “dating” this guy when I was a sophomore and he was a senior in high school (and I call it “dating”, because we weren’t a common knowledge, public thing). Honestly, he was in the right place at the right time and I fell head over heels for this guy. We’d both been going through some pretty heavy things in our personal lives and it was nice to have someone who was understanding. It was a great relationship at first. The stars were all aligned. It was straight out of a fairy tale, for real.

But it ended a few months later when I found out that he had gone public with a girl I’d been close with since kindergarten. And honestly, I was so indebted to this guy for being so good to me that I wasn’t even mad. Yeah, it hurt, but she was the sweetest girl and I thought he deserved someone good like her so I let him go (I’m an idiot, okay?). (I was a wreck internally, but externally, I was cool with it all).

So when he broke up with her that summer, of course I took him back. What kind of idiot would I be if I didn’t? And at first he was nice to me again. It was like old times, except my best friend was out of rehab and incredibly present in my life again. This guy did not like that I was so close with my best friend. He did not like me being around my best friend at all and that was when our relationship changed.

He started telling me, and these weren’t his exact words, but the gist was: the only reason he’d broken up with me before was because I needed to learn not to take him for granted and that he was showing me that he needed a good, nice girl that cared about him as much as he cared about her.

And, stupid me, I was so desperate for any kind of affection at the time (it’s called sixteen), that I just accepted it and took him back. And when he started making rude comments to me, I never called him out on it. If I asked him about them later, he had the same excuse that he was just joking or just teasing. I accepted that, because I was always raised with teasing as a form of affection, so even though he said really mean things, I just overlooked it. (Hindsight’s 20/20.)

When I finally got to the point where I just didn’t want to see him because his teasing was so unrelenting and just rude, I tried to break up with him. And he slapped me. It was the only time he ever actually hit me, but he slapped me and immediately started bawling and apologizing and telling me it was never going to happen again. (Don’t listen to people when they say that. Just don’t.)

He said he only did it because he was so scared of me leaving. He was going through a really, really rough time and I was the only good thing in his life and he just knew that if I left him, he was going to kill himself.

So after that, I got stuck with him. Seriously. Who wants to be responsible for someone killing themselves? It was just a bad deal all around, but of course I thought I was in love. What sixteen year old doesn’t think that? I guess, more than anything, I wanted to be needed as much as I needed someone and he filled that position perfectly. Maybe he was mean, but he actually managed to convince me that I was even meaner, so I actually felt like I owed it to him to make it up to him.

Anyway he started getting meaner, but I passed it off as him being stressed. And he was super clever about the things he said. He never just insulted me outright, he let me set the stage. If I said something about makeup, it opened the door to insult my face. If I said I was getting dressed to go out, it opened the door for a crack at my outfits. If I mentioned working out, he could mention my weight. If I mentioned my friends, he mentioned my lackluster personality. Just stuff like that. It felt like it was always my fault for walking into it all.

Once, I told him that I hadn’t eaten in almost three days, and it was the first time I actually ever told anyone I had eating problems, because it was the first time I got scared that maybe I didn’t have as much control as I thought. But his dad was a doctor and his mom was a therapist, and I honestly believed that he was going to take me to them and get me help and I was going to get my life back and everything was going to be perfect and great.

But instead, he looked at me and his exact words were “well, it’s not gonna hurt you.”

After that I was too afraid to ask for help, because I just knew everyone was going to say the same thing he did. I knew he was right. It literally felt like I’d set myself up for that, so everyone else was going to treat me the same, so it took almost three years to ask for help again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming him. My eating issue was my choice. He didn’t make it for me. It was unfair of me to have expected him to just take care of all my problems. But obviously, it made a big impact on me. (It’s also the reason why I say to never, ever call someone an attention whore, even if they are. They might need more help than you think.)

And writing about all of it now, I realize I should have broken up with him the first time he insulted me, but at the time, I thought I was so in love and I was so desperate for any kind of attention, I’d take good or bad. And after a while, his was the only attention I ever got, so I kind of had to take the bad.

He started telling me that I was impure and unclean (because of my best friend), so he didn’t want to be seen in public with me. The only time we went out together was to attend his church, because he was a “devout” Catholic (which, nothing bad to Catholics. I loved the people at his church and his family. But he was…no).

We wouldn’t hang around my friends and after a while, I didn’t really either. We had to hang out at his house and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I guess it was just because he had to be on good behavior when other people were around. I dunno. He still did sweet things every once in a while, but he was a dick most of the time.

Once, just once, I managed to drag him to a party with my friends, and it was a huge mistake. I remember I was so embarrassed the entire nigh because he just kept picking on me. He would say things about how it was only fair I had a personality since I didn’t have looks. He didn’t know how I had above a 4.0 because I was so stupid when it came to Bible study. He thought I hung out with guys like a slut a lot because I was desperate for attention from boys (he was mad I wore a v cut t-shirt that night).

It was embarrassing to see my friends forcing laughs because they couldn’t believe that I let a guy talk to me like that, but they also didn’t want to get into the middle of our relationship and start drama, so they just laughed. I was humiliated.

I remember he wiped a makeup smudge off my face and asked me why I hadn’t gotten it or something. Anyway, I just remember I told him I never looked in the mirror and he said something about how he wouldn’t either if he were me.

And my best friend just went off and slapped his hand away and told him to never talk to me like that. There was no “or else” or “ever again” anything like that. It was strictly to never do it, which was a big deal, because my best friend is an extremely passive guy. He does not meddle in other people’s affairs.

And he never has to have the last word (which is great for me, because I usually do!), but that night he didn’t let up until he had it. And I remember being so scared, because that was the moment I knew something had to give, but I also knew my back was kind of against the wall.

So my ex made us leave just after that, and I was humiliated about the whole night. I was so embarrassed and so ashamed and the entire way home I cried because my ex was so mad at me for making it such a horrible night. And by the time he dropped me off at my house, I honestly thought it was my fault that I’d been humiliated.

Sometime the next day my best friend came to my house and told me I had to break up with that guy because he was just so bad to me. And I remember defending him (talk about desperation), saying that he’d had a hard time and that he was just upset with me for making him do things he didn’t want to do and I shouldn’t have been so pushy. It was my fault

It made my best friend furious, so I tried to explain that I couldn’t break up with him even if I wanted to because he’d kill himself and blah blah blah blah blah.

And my best friend sat me down and his exact words were (I remember them so well, because I still say them to myself): “baby, people can blame you for whatever they want, but in the end, what they do is their choice, not yours.

It sounds so simple, but it really wasn’t at the time. I was bawling my eyes out, because I thought I’d have to choose between my boyfriend and my best friend (which my best friend wouldn’t have made me choose, but my ex was already at that point). But it’s funny now, because, obviously, my best friend was the right choice. I did good on that one.

Anyway, that’s what I’d call an unhealthy relationship, I guess. So think about that when you’re writing a romance:

Are the characters mean to each other? Do they threaten each other? Do they degrade each other? Do they humiliate them in front of friends/family? Do they threaten to commit suicide if they are left?

Think about that, yeah? If you answer yes to those, then you have the workings of an unhealthy relationship. And is that really what you’re trying to portray? (I’ve heard there are check lists for psychologically/emotional abusive relationships, which are “scarless” (I think is the idea), so they’re hard to detect, but I’ve never looked at any (I’m too lazy to research right now. Maybe I’ll do a chapter later). Be sure to check those out, though. Research, research, research, peeps.)

Put your character’s relationship through the ringer. Make sure it’s healthy and happy.

And the first time your significant other starts being an ass to you, dump that sorry loser. You’re all too young and beautiful to put up with someone else’s shit like that. Make yourself happy, then worry about others.