top of page

FOLLOW US

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Threads
  • LinkedIn
  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 31

For those navigating Borderline Personality Disorder, it can be incredibly hard to stay connected when stress feels like abandonment—when every raised voice or silent moment feels like you're being left behind.

Loving on the Edge: How to Stay Connected When Stress Feels Like Abandonment

For those living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), love doesn’t always feel like comfort. Sometimes, it feels like pressure. Or fear. Or an overwhelming current that threatens to sweep them away just when they need something to hold on to. When someone with BPD is under stress, especially in intimate relationships, their nervous system becomes a battlefield of perceived abandonment and emotional reactivity. And even the gentlest touch or the kindest word can feel like too much—or not enough.


What Stress Feels Like in a Borderline Mind


Under stress, a person with BPD may experience heightened sensitivity, rapid mood shifts, and an intense fear that they are being left behind or rejected. Their inner world becomes flooded with emotion—hurt, shame, confusion—and even loving partners can seem distant or dangerous. They may lash out, shut down, cling too tightly, or push people away before they can be hurt. The emotional volume is turned all the way up, and rational thought becomes harder to access.


Imagine needing love the most precisely when you feel the least lovable.


This isn't manipulation. It's a survival response. The fear of abandonment that defines BPD becomes amplified by stress, leading to behaviors that may look angry, chaotic, or irrational—but are, at their core, desperate attempts to feel safe.



How to Love When You’re Underwater


If you live with BPD, learning to love while stressed isn’t about being perfect. It’s about building bridges between your emotional storms and the people who care about you. Here are a few ways to do that:


  • Name What You Feel, Even If It’s Messy“I feel like I’m being abandoned” is not a failure. It’s a starting point. Naming your emotions helps make sense of the chaos and invites connection.


  • Create Anchor RitualsShort grounding routines—like a daily check-in text, a short walk with your partner, or breathing together before bed—can help soothe the nervous system and remind you you’re not alone.


  • Use ‘Now’ LanguageStress and abandonment triggers often pull us into the past. Try saying, “Right now, I feel scared you’re pulling away,” rather than acting on old pain.


  • Have a Safe Word or SignalCreate a word or phrase that lets your partner know you’re overwhelmed and need time without rejection. This can reduce conflict and shame.


  • Seek Regulated SupportTherapy, DBT skills, or even self-soothing tools like cold water, movement, or journaling can help regulate emotional overload before it spills out.


For the Partner: Presence Over Perfection


If you love someone with BPD, remember: your steadiness matters more than your solutions. Be present, not perfect. When your partner is spiraling, ask questions gently: “How can I stay close without overwhelming you?” Boundaries and compassion can co-exist.



A Love That Learns


Loving with BPD under stress isn’t easy. But it’s not impossible. It’s a love that requires patience, self-awareness, and a whole lot of grace. It’s learning to pause when your brain says run, to reach when your heart says shut down.


Because love doesn’t need to be loud to be true—it just needs to stay.


Eye-Opening Question: What if the key to loving someone with BPD isn't to fix their fear—but to become someone it doesn’t have to fear?


More Related Articles:

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 3

Resentment in a marriage often starts as small, unspoken disappointments—but over time, it can grow into emotional distance that’s hard to bridge. Healing resentment in a marriage requires both partners to move from blame to curiosity, and from silence to honest conversation.

Resentment in a Marriage: What Happens When Love Keeps Score?

Marriage begins with connection, trust, and the unspoken belief that you and your partner are on the same team. But over time, something subtle and corrosive can begin to grow in the quiet spaces between misunderstandings and unmet needs: resentment.


Resentment doesn’t usually arrive with fireworks. It builds like sediment—slowly, silently—until one day, you find yourself irritated by the sound of their voice or secretly tallying who did what last week. It’s emotional debt with no forgiveness plan. And if left unchecked, it can quietly erode the very foundation of your relationship.



What Is Resentment, Really?


Resentment is more than just frustration—it's a sign of emotional buildup. It's what happens when pain, disappointment, or unmet needs don’t get processed, expressed, or repaired.

Think of resentment as an internal alarm system that keeps going off, warning you that something isn’t right. Maybe you've asked for more help at home, more appreciation, or simply more presence—but nothing changes. Over time, you stop asking and start stewing.


It can stem from:


  • Feeling emotionally unsupported

  • A lack of fairness or reciprocity

  • Repeated invalidation or dismissal of your feelings

  • Long-term imbalance in effort or responsibility


The tricky part? Resentment doesn’t just linger—it transforms. Into sarcasm, silence, or shame. And when that happens, you’re no longer just irritated. You’re lonely, even if you're not alone.


Why We Don’t Talk About It


We often avoid talking about resentment because it feels… dangerous. As though voicing it will create conflict rather than connection. Many people—especially those raised in emotionally avoidant or unstable homes—learn to suppress their needs to “keep the peace.”


You might tell yourself:


  • “I don’t want to seem ungrateful.”

  • “It’ll just lead to another fight.”

  • “I’ve brought it up before and nothing changed.”


But silence isn’t safety—it’s slow self-erasure. And eventually, it breeds more distance than honesty ever could. Emotional intimacy depends on truth-telling, even when it’s uncomfortable.


How Resentment Shows Up


You might not even call it "resentment" at first. It just feels like:


  • Constant irritation at small things

  • Snapping over harmless comments

  • Emotional withdrawal—you stop sharing your inner world

  • Passive-aggressive behaviors ("No, it’s fine. I’ll just do it myself.")

  • Fantasizing about being anywhere but here


Resentment is often at the root of repetitive fights that never seem to resolve—where one or both partners feel unseen and unheard, and no amount of explanation seems to bridge the gap.


In intimacy, it might look like disconnection:


  • You no longer want to touch or be touched

  • You dread talking about emotions

  • You feel numb where you used to feel passion


The resentment isn’t just in your words—it’s in your body, your tone, your silence.


How to Break the Cycle


1. Name It—Gently


Don’t wait for a blow-up. Start the conversation before the pressure builds too high.

Instead of:


“You never help me around here.”

Try:

“I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately, and I realize I’ve started to carry some resentment. Can we talk about how we’re dividing things?”

It’s not about assigning blame. It’s about giving your feelings a voice so they don’t become armor.


2. Own Your Part


This doesn’t mean taking more responsibility—it means accurate responsibility. Are you bottling up your needs? Have you allowed certain patterns to continue out of fear or exhaustion?


Owning your part is about reclaiming your power to change how you communicate, set boundaries, or respond—without taking on guilt for your partner’s behavior.


3. Rebuild Trust Through Small Repairs


Forget grand romantic gestures for a moment. What matters most are small, consistent actions that signal: I see you, and I care enough to show up differently.


Examples:


  • Following through when you say you’ll do something

  • Saying “thank you” for the small things

  • Checking in emotionally: “How are you really doing today?”


Even a 5-minute daily check-in—free of screens and distractions—can go a long way in rebuilding connection.


4. Seek Help if You’re Stuck


If resentment feels too tangled to unravel alone, couples counseling (or individual therapy) can help. A trained therapist creates a space where both partners can feel safe enough to be honest without spiraling into conflict.


Sometimes you need a neutral third party to spot the patterns you’ve both become blind to.


5. Choose Curiosity Over Criticism


Curiosity is the antidote to defensiveness. When you feel frustration rising, try asking:


  • “What do you need right now that you’re not getting?”

  • “What would make you feel more loved or supported?”

  • “Is there something I’ve missed lately that matters to you?”


Listening doesn’t mean agreeing. But it opens the door to connection, which is what resentment most deeply craves.


A New Way Forward


Resentment is not a sign your relationship is doomed. It’s a sign that your relationship is ready for change. It means you care enough to notice the drift and to wish for something better—for both of you.


Repairing a marriage from resentment doesn’t happen overnight. But it does happen—when both partners are willing to stop fighting against each other and start healing with each other.


Even if the conversations are messy. Even if it takes time. Even if you don’t know how to begin.


Because the alternative is silence. And silence steals more love than honesty ever will.



So an eye-opening question to reflect on: If you stopped keeping score, what would you start noticing instead—about your partner, and about yourself?


More Related Articles:
  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Apr 21

Marriage tests us not in the grand moments, but in the everyday messes—when we’re tired, overwhelmed, and still choosing each other. From sleepless nights with a newborn to silent dinners after a long day, marriage tests us by asking, will you still show up, even now?

Love Isn’t the Hard Part: Why Marriage Tests Us in Unexpected Ways

Falling in love is pure magic. It’s the part of the story where everything glows. The first dates, the sparks, the feeling that someone finally sees you—it’s euphoric. That beginning phase is full of curiosity and hope, untouched by life’s sharp edges. You wake up excited to see their name pop up on your phone, you replay conversations in your mind, and you begin to imagine a future wrapped around each other. It’s beautiful—and often deceptively simple.


But what we don’t talk about enough is what happens after the fairytale. When routines replace spontaneity, and obligations crowd out passion. The transition from dating to enduring partnership is quiet but seismic. It’s not a failure of love—it’s the beginning of real life. And real life, even with your soulmate, is hard.


The Myth of Easy Love


We’ve been conditioned by stories to believe that love should be easy if it’s right. Fairy tales, romantic comedies, and even Instagram captions subtly convince us that love is only valid when it feels effortless. But sustainable love? The kind that weathers seasons and storms? That kind of love demands energy, intention, and uncomfortable conversations.


Many couples hit a wall not because their love was a lie, but because they expected love to do the work for them. But love isn’t a cruise control button—it’s a practice. And when both partners are overwhelmed, distracted, or emotionally unavailable, that practice gets neglected. We start to mistake distance for incompatibility. We start to wonder: “Should it really be this hard?” The answer is: sometimes, yes. Love that deepens over decades is forged, not found.


The Baby Effect: How Parenthood Shakes the Foundation


No stage tests a marriage like the early years of parenthood. Suddenly, you’re not just partners—you’re co-parents, sleep-deprived teammates trying to keep a tiny human alive. You’re stretched thin in every direction. Conversations turn into diaper duty negotiations. Physical touch becomes practical—feeding, burping, changing—rather than romantic. And emotional bandwidth? Practically zero.


It’s not just exhaustion—it’s identity loss. You may no longer recognize the version of yourself you’ve become. Your partner may feel more like a coworker than a lover. And through it all, you may silently grieve the life you used to have—while also feeling immense guilt for feeling that way. These are real, raw experiences, and they’re more common than we admit.


Love after a baby requires deep patience and even deeper communication. It asks both partners to evolve—and to hold space for one another’s needs without keeping score. Because it’s not always 50/50. Some days, it’s 90/10. And that’s okay—if you both agree to take turns carrying the heavier load.


Why Keeping Love Alive Takes Effort


Passion isn’t self-sustaining—it requires fuel. In the early days, novelty keeps the flame burning. But once the newness wears off, love has to be fed through shared rituals, physical affection, emotional check-ins, and simply showing up. It’s far too easy to slide into coexisting, especially when you're juggling careers, children, aging parents, or financial stress.


Love is often drowned out by survival mode. We assume our partner knows we care, but affection becomes scarce. Conversations get reduced to logistics. Sex might feel distant, mechanical, or even forgotten. The truth is, the everyday demands of life—especially with children—quietly erode intimacy when we don’t actively protect it. Keeping love alive is not about grand romantic gestures—it’s about creating a million small moments of connection amid the chaos.


It Can’t Be One-Sided Work


Here’s the truth that can sting: love will not thrive if only one person is doing the work. One partner can’t carry the emotional weight of the relationship while the other coasts. Emotional labor, communication, vulnerability—these must be mutual investments. Otherwise, resentment begins to take root, and connection begins to unravel.


After a baby, the imbalance can feel even more extreme—especially if one parent becomes the default caregiver while the other stays immersed in work or other responsibilities. Even well-meaning couples can fall into harmful patterns where one partner feels abandoned, unseen, or taken for granted.


A strong relationship is not about who’s giving more or who’s more exhausted—it’s about shared ownership. Both partners need to lean in, take initiative, and actively support each other’s well-being. If only one person is fighting for the relationship, then the balance is already broken. Love demands partnership—not martyrdom.



The Reality of Two People Changing


Time changes people. Not all at once, and not always in obvious ways, but inevitably. You may find that your partner’s priorities shift, that their outlook matures, that the way they give or receive love evolves. Sometimes that change is sparked by trauma, growth, a new career, or becoming a parent. And sometimes, it’s you who changes, leaving your partner feeling confused or left behind.


The hardest part? Change doesn’t always happen in sync. One partner might be diving deep into self-discovery while the other is just trying to stay afloat. What worked five years ago—or before kids—might not work now, and it’s easy to feel like you’ve become strangers. But growth doesn’t have to be a threat to the relationship. It can be an invitation to re-meet each other. To stay curious. To fall in love with new versions of the person you once knew.


So… Why Do We Do It?


Despite the challenges, many of us still choose marriage—not because we’re clinging to tradition, but because we believe in the promise of being deeply known and loved through all versions of ourselves. There’s something sacred about shared history. About building a life with someone who’s seen you break down, who’s seen you unfiltered, and stayed anyway. That kind of connection, when nurtured, becomes a sanctuary.


Marriage can be a mirror that reflects not just your partner’s flaws, but your own. It forces you to confront your triggers, your defenses, your expectations. And in that process, it can help you grow in ways that solitude never could. The work is real—but so is the reward.


How Do You Keep the Flame Alive—Even After Kids?


It starts with presence. Not just being in the same room, but actually being with each other. Eye contact. Laughter. Gratitude spoken out loud. Ask questions you haven’t asked in years. Schedule dates, even if they’re at home with takeout. Kiss longer. Touch more. Be willing to say, “I miss us,” without assigning blame.


When conflict arises, fight for clarity, not control. Make it safe to be honest, even if the honesty is messy. Apologize when you’re wrong. Offer forgiveness even when it’s uncomfortable. And never stop checking in: “How are we doing?” “Are we okay?” These small acts are the stitching that holds the relationship together—especially when you’re busy keeping small humans alive.



One Last Question:


If you’re pouring everything into your marriage—but feel like you’re parenting alone, loving alone, or holding all the emotional weight… how long can one heart carry what was meant for two?


More Related Articles:

bottom of page