There are stories of which we are not proud, because they speak of our weaknesses, our shortcomings, our mistakes. But we have to keep those stories in mind, not to beat our chests and repent, but to know where we fell, why we fell and how we managed to get up.

My story is a love story that at the beginning was the best love story I had ever lived. I met a guy who, although younger than me, was the man any woman would have wished for: mature, gentlemanly, loving, accommodating. His details and words managed to win me over, maybe not immediately (there was something in me that told me he was too perfect to be true), but over the months. One day, after so much insistence and so many details, we became sweethearts.

In Venezuela, men are very attentive and accommodating and like to take care of their partners. This guy was no exception. The first few months were wonderful: I had everything I wanted and everything at my fingertips. If I wanted money, I had money; if I wanted travel, I had travel; if I had cravings, I fulfilled every one of them. There was no one who wouldn't praise my relationship or tell me I had hit the jackpot. But it was all a trap, a tactic: sometimes they use honey to attract flies and kill them.

One day I realized, or maybe I had realized before but I was pretending to be blind, that this guy controlled every step I took, every gesture I made, every word I uttered. I could not go anywhere without him or without his consent, I could not wear certain clothes, I could not go out with my friends and even, without my permission, he took my cell phone and checked my conversations. When I complained, he manipulated me and the excuse was his love for me and his fear of losing me. According to him, he was always the victim and I was the guilty one.

This toxic relationship made me a caricature. I became a gray character who could not act or speak on my own. My partner's constant jealousy caused me to live in constant stress and eternal bitterness. I spent hours without sleep, crying, wondering how I allowed that man to control even my thoughts.

But one day I decided to get out of that relationship that was hurting me. No need to fight, no need to yell, no need to block anyone: just a firm decision on my part not to continue living that horrible life. Today, when I look at that person, I realize that he is far from being the perfection I assumed, on the contrary: he has serious mental problems. But I also, undoubtedly, had ego and esteem problems, because that is the only way to justify my falling into that trap.

At present I am very well: I laugh, I travel, I share, I talk, and although I have a partner, I am the owner of my actions. There is a calmness inside and outside of me that I would not leave for anyone. That experience left me with a great knowledge: I recognize who are parasites or emotional predators and I don't know about them from books, I met them personally. And just like the one who lived in a cage and then was free, I have made freedom my flag, my rebellion, my cane, my throne, my north....