'I was with my partner for four years. He left me as soon as his permanent residency came through.'

My relationship record reads like a lot of women's; I've never been able to find the right person, but I've encountered the wrong ones. Unavailable, still attached, moved away, not interested, it's complicated. But along came Antonio*, right when I wanted to believe in love again and at a time when my heart was open for business. We bonded over our love of dogs, the outdoors, travelling and creating a stress-free life together. My family welcomed him just as much as his adored me. He was kind-hearted, creative and full of life. I'd met the man of my dreams and he loved me in return.

Antonio was originally from overseas but was settled in Australia for several years when we met despite having no family here; he had established a life for himself with friends, a job and a place to live. From the outside you would assume he was living his best life, so I didn't see a shade of red or any type of flag when we started dating.

We met in November and became official in January, which was the same month that Antonio told me he was having visa complications. All avenues had been exhausted, and it was a real possibility he would be deported... with 30 days' notice. Even though it was early days, I knew two things were true: 1) that I wanted him in my life, and 2) that this kind, talented man deserved to continue living and working in this country. A few days later. I told him I'd happily provide a partnership visa because it felt right. He responded, "I love you". That was the first time he said it.

Watch: Coercive control is a deliberate pattern of abuse. Post continues below.

Throughout COVID, we waited longer than usual for the partnership visa to come through, but it was finally signed, sealed and delivered 18 months after we applied. I know this wait was excruciating for Antonio; wondering whether his dream of building a life in Australia would be approved or denied. But rather unexpectedly, this time was also excruciating for me.

His avoidant attachment style roused my suspicions from the beginning. I was never mentioned in birthday speeches, he hardly ever asked how my day was or what was happening at work, he made breakfast for one and sometimes dinner, too. I wasn't accompanied to my day surgery appointment; he was always late to pick me up, and he spent a lot of time on his phone; always locking the screen when I approached. He wouldn't open up to me but spent hours with another girl when she needed emotional support. He had no intention to marry me, and during the time that I thought I was pregnant, the first thing he said was, "How much is a vasectomy?" Even when we registered our relationship at the service centre, there was no thank you or celebration. No dinner, no card. Nothing. We just got on the ferry home and resumed normal life. Is it any wonder I felt vulnerable in the relationship?

Yet the more I questioned Antonio's commitment and love for me, the more withdrawn he became. It was our circular argument. I gave him countless opportunities to be honest and even tried to leave a few times because of the impact it was having on my mental health. Each time, Antonio convinced me to stay and reassured me that everything was okay. It clearly wasn't.

In April of this year, Antonio's application for permanent residency in Australia was granted. Two weeks later, our relationship was over.   

I approached him one night when, like usual, I sensed something was off. He finally admitted what I knew deep down. He said "I've been unhappy for a long time. The relationship hasn’t been good for a while. I love you but it's not enough." I was devastated but also furious. My mind was racing as I tried to pinpoint why and for how long he had felt this way. "When were you going to tell me about this?" I asked him. He admitted "I needed to make sure my future was secure."

I kicked him out immediately.

After years of gaslighting, my first instinct was to blame myself solely for the demise of our relationship; I drove him away, my emotions were too much for him. I'd let myself go. It was me; I was the problem. It wasn't until our couple's counsellor asked me in our one-on-one session late last year, "He's getting everything out of this, but what are you getting?" that I began to truly realise the imbalance.

Everything was about him and what he wanted. He controlled where we lived, what car we drove, how we dealt with our finances, and even took over our home environment with his own business endeavours. I had supported him through it all because it's what you do for the one you love. But I had ignored my needs in the process and was becoming a shell of myself. Enough was enough. The day I took our counsellor's advice and asked Antonio for something in return for the visa, just happened to be the moment when he knew it was over... he just failed to come forward with that information until his residency was finalised, despite seeing the toll it was having on me.

Looking back, the situation with the visa placed an unfair disadvantage on our relationship. It put me in a position of power that I didn't ask for and was a constant source of discomfort and angst. But it was Antonio's lack of emotional availability that cemented our fate. After all, it's hard having a relationship with someone if they have built a brick wall between you.

In the end, I've walked away from an intolerable partner and a dysfunctional relationship. He may have gotten what he came for, but I have left with the one thing that he can no longer take from me – validation of self.

*Name has been changed for privacy.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons.

Feature Image: Getty.