I’m a 35-year-old woman who grew up watching my parents fight constantly—they’re still together, but I promised myself I’d never end up in a relationship like theirs. Now, I’m single and every man I meet somehow falls short. I’m beginning to wonder if I have commitment issues.
Deep down, I dream of a fairytale ending—meeting someone wonderful and living happily ever after. But I also fear settling down with the wrong person and being trapped in an unhappy life like my parents. It’s confusing and lonely, and I don’t know how to move past this fear.
Has anyone else felt like this? How do you overcome it?
First of all, you are not alone—and more importantly, you are not broken. Many people who grow up in households marked by tension, emotional volatility, or chronic conflict internalize powerful lessons about love and safety. When love was unpredictable or painful in your early life, it’s completely natural to become wary of relationships later on. What you’re experiencing as “commitment issues” may actually be a form of emotional self-protection—a subconscious way of shielding yourself from repeating that pain.
You’re not avoiding love; you’re avoiding hurt. And that’s an important distinction. Your fear is rooted in wisdom. You’ve seen firsthand how damaging a mismatched, unhappy partnership can be, and it makes perfect sense that you want to avoid making the same mistake. This shows a deep awareness of what you don’t want—which is an essential starting point.
The next step is building an understanding of what healthy commitment can look like. It doesn’t mean sacrificing your freedom or individuality, and it certainly doesn’t mean resigning yourself to misery. But it does mean opening yourself up to the risk that comes with intimacy—and learning how to differentiate between red flags and old fears echoing in your head.
Try to notice the patterns: Are you quickly finding flaws in people because they genuinely don’t align with your values, or because getting close feels threatening? Sometimes, perfectionism is a form of armor. If no one is ever good enough, you never have to risk being vulnerable. That’s a safe, but lonely place to live.
Rather than holding out for a flawless “Prince Charming,” shift your focus to finding someone who feels safe—someone emotionally steady, kind, communicative, and open to growing with you. Real love isn’t a lightning bolt—it’s often quieter. It’s built slowly through consistency, care, and shared effort. Fairy tales are lovely stories, but real life offers something better: mutual trust, laughter, emotional safety, and companionship.
Therapy can be an incredibly helpful tool in this process. A good therapist can help you examine the roots of your fears and support you in building new, healthier narratives about love and partnership. They can help you distinguish between a gut instinct warning you of danger and a fear response trying to keep you safe from imagined harm.
And most of all, be compassionate with yourself. You’re not “too picky”—you’re protective because love matters deeply to you. You want to get it right, and that care, that depth of longing, is beautiful. That’s not something to be ashamed of—it’s something to honor.
You deserve a relationship that nourishes you, not one that drains or confines you. The first step is believing it’s possible.