I’m a 28-year-old woman in Toronto, dating a 37-year-old man who’s kind, smart, and full of potential. But here’s the reality: he lives on his parents’ basement couch, doesn’t work, lost his license, sleeps all day, and stays up all night.
He’s been clean from substance use for years, but still occasionally uses “snowflake.” I’ve got my life together—educated, employed, building something for myself. I love him and truly believe in his potential, and part of me thinks I can help him turn things around, but I’m scared I’m holding myself back.
Do I stick around or move on? I need brutal honesty.
You’re not dating a boyfriend. You’re dating a project. And I don’t care how much potential he has—potential doesn’t pay rent, potential doesn’t build a life, and potential sure as hell doesn’t show up every day when you need a partner.
He’s 38. Not 18. Not 22. Not “figuring it out.” He’s almost four decades old and living in his parents’ basement, unemployed, no license, sleeping all day, awake all night, dabbling with substances. That’s not a man building a life. That’s a man avoiding life. And you? You’re playing the role of caretaker, savior, therapist, cheerleader, and emergency contact—when what you want is a partner.
Here’s the hard truth: you can’t save him. You can’t love him into wholeness. You can’t sacrifice your life, your career, your health, your dreams on the altar of his “potential.” People don’t get better because someone else wants it for them—they get better because they want it, they work for it, they fight for it every damn day.
And from where I’m sitting? He’s not fighting. He’s sleeping. He’s escaping. He’s drifting. And while you’re out there hustling, building, moving forward, you’re tethered to someone who’s stuck in place—and whether you realize it or not, he’s pulling you down with him.
Love isn’t enough. Hope isn’t enough. You need a man who’s already standing on his own two feet—not one you have to drag upright every morning.
You say you’re scared you’re holding yourself back? You already are. And deep down, you know it. That’s why you wrote this message. That’s why you’re asking for tough love. You’re looking for permission to leave. So here it is: you have permission. More than that—you have a responsibility to yourself to walk away.
You deserve a partner who meets you where you are, who’s already doing the work, who brings strength and stability into your life—not chaos, not excuses, not endless “potential.”
I know you love him. I know it’s hard. But love without boundaries isn’t love—it’s enabling. And staying won’t save him. It’ll only drown you both.
So here’s my advice, as your friend, as someone who’s cheering for you: Let him go. Choose you. Walk away.
And when you do? You’ll feel grief. You’ll feel guilt. You’ll wonder if you did the right thing. And then, in the quiet, you’ll start to feel something else: peace. Freedom. Relief. Hope.
Go build the incredible life you’re meant to live. You don’t owe anyone your future just because they’ve got “potential.”
He’s a grown man. His life is his responsibility. Yours is yours.