I Don’t Need Him -– And That’s Exactly Why I Want Him

We’re fed this lie from the time we’re old enough to hold a Barbie or watch a Disney movie: that we’re supposed to find our other half, be swept off our feet, and live happily ever after. That being chosen is the prize. That without someone else, we are somehow incomplete.

Let me be clear: you don’t need anyone.

You might want someone. But that’s a completely different energy. Needing is rooted in survival, fear, scarcity, and old programming that tells you you’re incomplete until you’re chosen. Wanting? That’s freedom. That’s power. That’s conscious choice.

I know the difference, because I lived the lie. Twice.

First, with my ex-husband. I was just so damn young and so damn stupid. We weren’t even aligned if I am being honest. But I had grown up in a religion (ok, tbh, it was closer to a cult), that told me dating for anything other than the purpose of marriage was wrong, and deep down, I still thought I had to get married to be validated. Not to mention that there were so many people around me getting married I was like “yea, this is what I should do.” Side point: don’t ever follow the crowd. Especially when you really aren’t even aligned with the crowd in the first place and you even know most of the crowd is living a fucking lie. 

I had already rejected the religion several years prior, but the conditioning still had its claws in me. I hadn’t properly begun to decondition myself yet. So I did three things that were honestly quite horrible. 1. I kept badgering him about us needing to get married. 2. I said yes when I should’ve walked away. 3. I married him because I thought I was supposed to. Not because I genuinely wanted to.

I would ultimately pay the price for this. However, there is always a lesson to be learned and a reason a person enters your life. This one brought me my 2 beautiful boys and believe it or not, helped me further reject the cult like religion I was born and raised in.

The second time? Well, this was just so much worse. Ya know when your intuition tells you something pretty important and you completely ignore it? What’s worse, not only do you ignore it, you gaslight yourself into beliving that there is no way that little voice telling you that thing is true? No? Just me? 

Well, I had this little voice inside that said, “Hey, pretty sure this guy who seems nice is actually a complete psycho.” But I ignored it. I told that voice “No, like come on. I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.” I also told myself I needed him. Hell, I told him I needed him. That he completed me.

Cue the eye roll.

Cue the gagging.

Cue the chaos.

Cue the trauma that followed.

That relationship? It was psychological warfare wrapped in a love story I forced myself to believe. I’m talking every red flag possible—and I ignored them all. Gaslighting, control, manipulation, financial ruin, emotional destruction. Walking away wasn’t just hard. It was damn near impossible. Because when you’re trying to untangle yourself from someone who’s tracking your every move, hoarding your secrets as weapons, and feeding off your dependency—you don’t just leave. You escape. And you don’t come out the same.

If you’ll allow me another aside here, it took years for me to stop having nightmares about this person. Years. I finally got free of this person in 2017. It’s now 2025 and I have only been nightmare free for a little over a year.

That’s when you learn just how dangerous neediness can become.

I went into massive debt trying to support someone who appeared to have it all together. Two cars I helped him finance? Repossessed. The house I moved myself and my boys into? Foreclosed on while I was sitting in class one night. And me? I was torn down, day after day, told I was crazy, worthless, unlovable—until I started to believe it. The distrust got so deep that I snapped. I hit my breaking point and said, “Fine, you want to believe I’m the problem? Watch me burn it all down.”

That’s what trauma bonding does. It convinces you that destruction is the only language you have left.

I didn’t just lose myself in that relationship. I buried myself. And it took time to dig my way back.

But I did. I got my shit together. I rebuilt my life, my credit, my confidence. I healed the version of me that thought being loved meant being rescued. I stopped performing for the illusion of safety. I learned to trust myself.

And wouldn’t you know it? That’s exactly when Josh showed up. Right when I had finally said, “You know what? I’m good. I’m whole. I’m not looking.”

Let me say it again: I don’t need him. And that’s exactly why I want him.

We make a great team. We can sit in silence for hours and feel completely seen. I like who I am when I’m with him, but more importantly, I love who I am when I’m alone. That’s what healed partnership looks like. It’s a choice, not a crutch.

And yet, even years into our relationship, the conditioning still tries to creep in. One day my mother told me, “You guys need to get married. You need someone to take care of you.”

Excuse me?

At that point, I was making well over six figures, had recently  purchased my second home (this one on my own this time since I gave up my first home in the divorce), had been raising my two boys on my own. I hadncompleted my bachelor’s and was actively working on my master’s. I built an entire empire from the ashes of my past. What part of me, exactly, needed to be taken care of?

Let me remind you: marriage is a contract. A legal one. It’s not a badge of worthiness. It’s not some golden ticket. It doesn’t make you whole. You already are.

Now here’s the part a lot of people won’t like, but it needs to be said:

This goes both ways.

Yes, I’m speaking to women. That’s who I serve, who I relate to, and who I love empowering. But let’s not pretend this is one-sided. Women are fully capable of manipulation, control, narcissism, gaslighting—all of it. I’m not here to vilify men. I’m here to shine a light on wounded patterns, wherever they show up.

Healing isn’t about becoming perfect. It’s about becoming honest.

This blog isn’t about bashing relationships. It’s not anti-love. It’s not even anti-marriage. It’s about sovereignty. About remembering that needing to be needed isn’t love—it’s trauma. And that the most magnetic thing you can ever do is become someone who chooses from wholeness, not emptiness.

If you’re in it right now—if you’re with someone you know isn’t right for you, but you’re scared of being alone, or scared to start over, or scared to trust yourself again—please hear this:

You are not broken. You are not too far gone. You are not too late. You are allowed to reclaim yourself.

And when you do? The love you attract won’t be about completion. It will be about celebration.

Most importantly though:

You are the one you’ve been waiting for. Everything else is just bonus.

Until next time, own your crown, always

-Amanda