You Don’t Have to Be Fully Healed to Be in a Healthy Relationship: The Night My Abandonment Wound Showed Up in Mine.

I’ve read so many personal development books over the past few years that I’m basically a walking encyclopedia of self-help and healing.

I kept reading and reading, convinced that one day I’d be fully healed. That my trauma would be behind me. That I’d finally meet a good man, settle down, and have the kind of relationship I’d always wanted.

And honestly? I did a lot of amazing healing work.

Am I perfect? Absolutely not.

But I truly believed my abandonment wounds were a thing of the past… or so I thought.

Fast forward to now. I’m with an amazing man. One night he went out with his friends and I was totally fine with it. I love my alone time, and I genuinely want him to have a life outside of our relationship.

Then 9:00 pm rolled around…and the anxiety started creeping in.

Wow, he’s not home yet.

More time passed. I tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t. I rolled over and checked my phone—10:00 pm. Still not home. The panic got louder. I tried to talk myself down, but eventually I caved and texted him:

“Are you coming home?”

In true Correy fashion, he replied almost immediately.

“Yes.”

Yes.

That’s it. Just yes.

I felt the anger rise. My body froze. The panic spiraled. He said he was coming home—but what if he didn’t? What if he left like everyone else?

I tried to calm myself again, but by 11:30 pm the self-deprecation kicked in.

I can’t believe I texted him. He probably thinks I’m so insecure. Maybe he’ll meet someone who isn’t crazy. I’ve done all this healing work—why am I still acting like this?

Self-deprecation quickly turned into irritation. His new ice maker started making those obnoxious noises, and every time the ice dropped I thought he was home. So did the dogs.

By midnight, I snapped.

Fine. You’re going to be out all night? Then you’re not having ice in the morning.

So I unplugged the ice maker. Take that.

And crawled back into bed.

Then the door finally opened.

He was home.

I tried to play it cool, but I was way past cool. I just started bawling.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

And suddenly, I heard her.

The seven-year-old little girl who came home from school to find all her dad’s stuff gone. The day her heart shattered. The moment her family fell apart.

“I thought you were never coming home,” I sobbed, curling into a ball.

He immediately pulled me into his arms and said, over and over again,

“I am never not going to come home.”

He held me. He kissed me. He stayed.

Unlike the emotionally unavailable men I was used to, he didn’t say I was crazy. He didn’t tell me I was overreacting. He didn’t shut me down.

He simply made space for me to feel everything I needed to feel.

And that’s when something clicked.

You don’t have to be fully healed to be in a relationship.

(I’ve said that before—but I didn’t really understand it until that moment.)

A healthy relationship creates the safety for your deepest wounds to be seen, felt, and healed.

Correy healed a part of my heart that he wasn’t responsible for breaking.

And because of all the work I’ve done, I didn’t fall into the unhealthy behaviors I once would have. Turning off the ice maker was pretty tame, all things considered 🤣.

I also learned to speak up for my needs. I told him that if he’s going to be out later than expected, I just need a heads-up.

And guess what?

The next time he went out with his friends, he did exactly that.

I may never be fully healed—and honestly, I don’t think anyone ever is.

But each day I get a little better.

Because I’m in a relationship that gives me the safety to be fully seen… and to keep healing.