Subtle Changes in My Partner — Quiet Reflection and a Shared Sense of the Future
Over the past several years of rest, my partner’s volatility has gradually become less pronounced. While I spent my days quietly sorting through my own past, it seemed that my partner, too, had begun to look back on theirs.
I would not say they had “softened.” There are still moments when anger flares. Even so, what is clearly different is the presence of self-reflection — something I had never seen in the early days of our life together.
Perhaps, over a long stretch of time, we began to deepen our mutual understanding as partners.
One particularly significant change was that, separate from my depression, we both began to hold a longer-term view of our working lives. Even at the lowest points, we were starting to sense — faintly but distinctly — that even if one of us were to lose a job, there would still be a way forward within our respective fields.
I believe that when my partner once said, “You don’t have to stay at that company anymore, Naoki,” those words were shaped not only by anxiety about our finances, but also by this newly emerging, fragile sense of confidence and cautious optimism about our careers.
During my psychiatric appointments, I made a point of sharing with my partner what I had discussed with psychiatrists and counsellors, as well as my reflections on the books I was reading. I wanted them to understand how my inner state was changing. Each time, they listened carefully and without interruption.
It was around this period that my partner began to use words such as “toxic parents,” “second-generation believer,” and “brainwashing” of their own accord. This is only my conjecture, but it seemed as though they might have been attempting a form of indirect cognitive restructuring through my experiences.
On two occasions, they said words that stayed with me.
“Naoki, you’ve changed completely — a full one hundred and eighty degrees.”
“I feel like I’ve been purified through you.”
For many years, I had struggled daily with my partner’s extreme behaviour. Even now, I do not fully understand its true causes. Nor do I intend to press for answers. I have decided to wait, trusting that if my partner continues to reflect deeply, they may one day speak of it naturally.
Most likely, the reasons were complex and overlapping: the influence of parents and relatives, heredity, faith, personality, school life, friendships, work, financial circumstances, and compatibility between us — all of these must have played a part.
In many ways, it seems to me that my partner had long been under the sway of their parents and extended family. Viewed from this perspective, many things begin to make sense.
Only after breaking free from indoctrination does one realise they were indoctrinated at all. In that sense, it resembles my own experience: only after being released from stress did I truly become aware of how much stress I had been carrying.
Awakening in the Forest — Letting Go of Indoctrination and Choosing a New Life
During my period of rest, we travelled to Tateshina in Nagano Prefecture.
Simply leaving humid Tokyo behind and breathing in the cool mountain air brought immediate relief. Beneath a vivid blue sky, surrounded by expansive nature, my worries and anxieties suddenly felt small and distant. I felt as though no difficulty was insurmountable.
Perhaps influenced by that state of mind, our relationship crossed a significant threshold during this trip.
Between Lake Tateshina and Yokoya Gorge lies a walking trail of around twelve kilometres. As we walked through the white birch forest — where only birdsong could be heard — I witnessed the moment my partner awakened from indoctrination.
As we walked slowly, we spoke about the changes we had each undergone during our time of rest. Then, quietly shedding tears, my partner shared feelings they had never voiced before.
I was stunned.
“I cremated my parents in my mind.”
“Did you know? At crematoriums, staff visually confirm that the body has fully burned and only bones remain.”
“I imagined myself as that staff member, confirming that my parents were reduced to bones. In my mind, I no longer have parents.”
“I used to lock my feelings inside a rigid box. That didn’t work, so I burned my parents in my heart.”
By that point, my partner had already abandoned their faith. The ritual objects once kept at home had been discarded.
In truth, my partner had never been a voluntary believer. Their faith had been imposed at birth by parents and relatives. For years, they had felt an unspoken sense of discomfort.
Lacking exposure to other value systems or broader social norms, they may have remained unconsciously bound by those teachings — shaping their every action without realising it.
With regret over an irretrievable past, my partner continued:
“I had so many assumptions. Looking back, they were things I only heard from my toxic parents — not things I actually saw or learned myself.”
“People I was told were ‘bad’ may not have been bad at all. It might have been my parents who were wrong.”
“From now on, I’ll only believe what I see and hear for myself.”
“I realise now how deeply those ideas were imprinted on me.”
Then came the words that compelled me to make a decisive inner commitment. From this moment onward, our approach to life changed.
“I’ve cut ties with my parents.”
“When Naoki begins a new life, I want us to move. I won’t give our new address to anyone.”
“I want to change my appearance, even my name, and start over.”
After a brief pause, they added:
“If I have Naoki, that’s enough.”
At that very moment — perhaps once in a lifetime — two wild deer emerged from the forest about thirty metres ahead of us. They stood still, gazing in our direction, before silently disappearing back into the trees.
The contrast between that gentle, almost mythical scene and the person beside me — returning to the real world — was overwhelming.
How deep must this person’s wounds be?
It wasn’t me who was most wounded — it was my partner.
Have I truly been able to accept this person until now?
In that instant, my own sense of complacency vanished. I resolved to redefine my life as well.
