Honestly, I never knew about the chair theory when I was still with him. Back then, all I felt was exhausted, but not in a physical wayjust emotionally drained. Every morning, I woke up with the feeling I had to earn my place, as if love was something I had to pass a test for every single day.
It was that way from the very start. When we were dating, I was always the one rearranging my schedule to see him. Id turn down plans with friends, swap work shifts, dart from one part of London to another if it meant we could spend an hour together. He always had something more important going onfootball match, mates, work, or just wanting a lie-in. And when we did finally meet, hed mostly be glued to his phonereplying to texts, watching videos. Id try to talk to him, and hed just mutter yeah, barely looking up.
When we moved in together in our flat in Manchester, I thought it would bring us closer, you know? I pictured us feeling more like a team. It was completely the opposite. Id be up early for work, then come home to cook, do the laundry, tidy up. Hed just come in, sit down, ask whats for dinner, then disappear into another room to rest. If I asked him to help, it was always Im tired or Later. That later hardly ever came.
One evening sticks in my mind. I was really ill, running a fever. I asked him to make me some soup. He glanced at me and said, Cant you just order something? So I got up, shivering and weak, made myself some soup and cried as I stirred the pot. That was the first time I truly felt like a guest in my own home.
It was the same story with his family. When we went round for gatherings in Birmingham, Id be the one bringing food, helping with serving, washing up. No one ever thought to ask how I was or if I needed anything. And not once did he say: Come sit with me. Stay here. Instead, I was always busy, rushing about, totally invisible to them. One of his aunties even said, quite loudly, Ah, its lovely shes so helpful. Everyone laughed. I did too, but inside I just felt used.
But the hardest thing was on the days that were important to me. On my birthday, hed always say wed celebrate another time. That another time never really came. But when it was his mates birthday? He had time, energy, and spent money without thinking twicehundred quid on gifts and drinks. I was behind the scenescarrying presents, snapping photos, clapping for everyone elses big moments.
My clearest memory is from a dinner with his friends. We walked in, he took the best seat at the table, chatting and laughing with everyone. I ended up stuck on a single chair tucked against the wall. No one included me in the conversation. I just watched them pass plates around, listened to their jokes and comments, and feltin that momentlike I was at a table where my presence genuinely didnt matter.
When we got home, I told him, crying, how invisible I felt. His response? You always exaggerate. Youre just being dramatic. That was when I realised that even my pain didnt have a place.
After we broke up, a friend explained the chair theory to me. She said something that stuck: When someone loves you, they dont make you wait for a seat. They invite you in and make space for you automatically.
I started to replay our whole relationship in my mind. All the times I wanted attention. All the times I waited for a message. All the times I kept quiet so I wouldnt cause any trouble.
It dawned on me that, for years, Id been emotionally standingconstantly trying not to take up space, making myself feel enough.
And it wasnt just with him. It was in my friendships, where I was always the listener but never listened to. With relatives, whod only ring me when they needed a favour. In jobs, where I gave more than I ever got back.
Now, Im on my own. But finally, I dont feel small anymore.
These days, when I walk into a room, I size things up. If theres no seat for me, I simply leave. If I have to beg for attention, I take a step back. If someone makes me feel awkward just for existing, I dont stay.
Because I finally got itlate, but I did: I wasnt born to beg for a seat.
I deserve a table where my presence is wanted.
