I thought that if I just stayed close enough with him, I could change him,Till I almost loosed myself

Written by: Oluwabiyi Esther Ayomide

Girl’s Stuff at Villpress is a weekly series where we talk about real life issues girls face, from relationships to self esteem and everything in between.

Can love alone really change someone? Adeola thought it could, and she gave everything to help Ose break free from his dark habits. But soon, she realized that sometimes trying to save someone else only ends up hurting you.

INTRODUCTION;

Dialogue With Adeola

Thank you for joining us, Adeola. Your story is incredibly moving, and we know it wasn’t easy to go through. But let’s start at the beginning. Who was Adeola before meeting Ose?

Adeola: ” There are some parts of my story that are difficult to share, but I believe speaking out will help others.

Before I met Ose, I was a focused, God Fearing girl. I was what you might call a “helper” to people. My friends used to tease me, saying I was like a “mother hen” because I was always trying to fix everyone’s problems. My parents raised me with strong values and encouraged me to keep my faith in God. I grew up in a deeply religious home, and I took my faith seriously.

I was in school, working part time at a café on Uromi Road to support myself and focusing on my studies. I believed in doing the right thing, in being a good person. I had a simple vision for my life: get a good education, help those around me, and always stay close to God. I’d say I was content back then. My life may have been simple, but it was fulfilling.

And then Ose came into your life. Tell us about him.

Adeola: People naturally flocked to Ose. He had this charm that made him seem like he could do no wrong. Ose was one of those people who could make anyone laugh. He was the funniest guy in our class and quite brilliant too.

On the surface, he seemed like a good person. He was even a regular at church, though it was clear that his churchgoing was just routine. Ose didn’t really know God. For him, it was more about appearances, I think. But I believed he had potential. I thought he just needed someone to show him the right path, someone who could guide him. Everyone else saw his charm, his wit, but I thought I could see something deeper – a good man waiting to be found. I thought he was someone I could help.

But they say that the teeth are close to each other, yet they don’t share secrets. Despite how close we were, there were things about him I didn’t know. At first, I didn’t realize he was struggling with any kind of addiction. He hid that side of himself well. By the time I understood the depth of it, I was already invested.

How did you two become close?

Adeola: It started out slow. After a long lecture one afternoon, he offered to walk me halfway home. I’d just finished a shift at the café, so I was tired, but his energy was contagious. Soon, walking home together became a routine. He’d wait for me outside my workplace or after class, and we’d just talk. He was funny, thoughtful, and seemed genuinely interested in who I was. Little by little, I started spending more time at his lodge, helping him with assignments, sharing stories, and talking about life.

Before I knew it, I was staying over at his place late into the night, sometimes as late as 9 p.m. My friends and roommates weren’t happy. They’d tell me, “Adeola, you’re spending too much time with this guy.” They didn’t understand why I was so drawn to him. But I just laughed it off, thinking they didn’t know him like I did. To me, he was like a puzzle waiting to be solved. I thought I could help him find himself.

When did you first realize he was struggling with addiction?

Adeola: It wasn’t something I noticed right away. Like I said, he kept it hidden. Then one day, I went to his place after work, and he was smoking. I remember feeling surprised, but I didn’t make a big deal of it. I thought maybe it was just an occasional habit, something he’d outgrow. But then I started noticing a pattern. He’d drink, smoke, and sometimes he’d get so drunk he couldn’t even walk straight. I’d find him passed out on his couch, surrounded by empty bottles, and it would break my heart.

In our culture, there’s a saying, “Omi loun to eru baba e; omode o le we’n, a ko gbodo we’n.” It means you can’t carry someone else’s burden for them without being washed away. I thought that if I just stayed close enough, I could carry his burden with him. But it was like I was the one who ended up carrying the weight.

Did you think about leaving then?

Adeola: Honestly? No, I didn’t. I thought I could be his rock, the one person who wouldn’t give up on him. I thought that with my guidance, he’d come to see his worth and turn things around. I’d pray for him, talk to him about his future, encourage him to quit, but he’d always slip back into his old ways. I felt a responsibility to him. It wasn’t that easy for me to just walk away.

But I didn’t know this then. I thought his burden was mine to bear, that somehow I was meant to be the one to help him.

So you kept going back. But it sounds like things got darker. Tell us about that.

Adeola: Yes, it did. There was one night that changed everything. It was around 10 p.m., and I went over to check on him because he hadn’t shown up to class that day. When I got there, he was incredibly drunk. His words were slurred, and he was swaying. I tried to help him to bed, thinking he just needed to sleep it off, but then he grabbed me. His grip was strong, and he wasn’t himself. I tried to push him off, but he kept trying to pull me closer. It felt like he was someone else entirely.

I managed to lock myself in his bathroom. I stayed there for what felt like hours, praying and asking God for strength. Eventually, he calmed down, and I came out. When he saw me, he started crying, apologizing over and over. He said he didn’t know what had come over him and begged me to forgive him. And I did. I wanted to believe he meant it, that he was sorry and would change. But deep down, a part of me knew that this was something I couldn’t handle alone.

That must have been terrifying. How did you deal with that afterward?

Adeola: It was a shock. I never thought he’d do something like that. But he was so remorseful, so broken afterward, that I forgave him. I told myself it was the alcohol, not him. We even grew close again after that, but I could never forget what happened. I felt like I was walking on eggshells. I wanted to help him, but I also started feeling like I needed to protect myself.

I was crying for him, carrying his problems as my own, but I was losing myself in the process.

Did you ever share this with anyone?

Adeola: No. My school was far from home, and I didn’t tell my family. I didn’t want them to worry or judge him. I kept everything to myself. I thought maybe, somehow, it would all work out. I thought that if I just prayed harder, if I just believed in him a little more, he’d find his way.

And how did this impact your own faith?

Adeola: There’s an old Yoruba saying, “A kii fi iresi kankan je isu meji.” It means “You cannot use one grain of rice to satisfy two people.” I was giving all of myself to him, but I was losing myself in the process.

I felt so far from God. I used to be that girl who wouldn’t miss a service, who prayed every day. But with Ose, my priorities shifted. I was spending so much time and energy on him that I forgot to take care of my own spirit. My prayers turned from personal growth to begging God to change him, to save him from himself. But I started feeling empty, like my soul was drying up.

What was the turning point for you?

Adeola: I remember it so clearly. One day, I was at the café, working my shift when he called, saying he was in trouble. I rushed to his lodge, only to find him in a rage, shouting about things that didn’t even make sense. He looked at me and said, “You think you’re better than me? You think you can change me?” His words hit me like a slap. I thought I was helping, but he saw it as judgment. I realized then that he didn’t want to be saved, not by me, anyway. I couldn’t carry him if he wasn’t willing to stand up for himself.

And how did you feel after hearing that?

Adeola: Crushed. I walked down the street that day feeling like the world had just fallen apart. I felt stupid, like I’d been chasing after a shadow. All the prayers, all the sleepless nights, everything I had poured into him felt wasted. But in that moment, something shifted inside me. I finally understood that he didn’t want my help. I’d been trying to save him, but he didn’t want to be saved. And I couldn’t keep letting him drag me down.

I had been halfblind in my hope for him, ignoring all the signs. I realized that to get my life back, I had to fully open my eyes and walk away.

That must have been incredibly hard to come to terms with. How did you go about moving on?

Adeola: It was tough, honestly. I spent weeks trying to piece myself back together. I had to reconnect with the person I was before Ose. I went back to church, started praying more sincerely, asking God to help me forgive myself for getting so lost. I was angry at myself for not seeing the truth sooner, but I also realized that it was a lesson I needed to learn.

I poured my energy into my studies, spent more time with friends who genuinely cared about me, and gradually started feeling lighter. It was like I was rediscovering my own worth and remembering that I deserved to be treated with respect and kindness.

Did you ever confront him again, or was that the end of it?

Adeola: We had one last conversation. I told him that I needed to move on for my own sake. I explained that I couldn’t continue to let his choices destroy me. He didn’t have much to say, just a shrug and a bitter smile, as if he had always known it would come to this. I walked away that day with a clear mind and a heavy heart, but I knew it was the right decision. I prayed for him, but I also let him go.

Looking back now, how do you feel about everything?

Adeola: I feel… stronger. Going through that experience taught me about boundaries, selfrespect, and the importance of self love. I still believe in helping others, but I also know that I can’t lose myself in the process. I realized that I am not responsible for fixing anyone else’s life, especially when they don’t want to change.

There’s a saying in Igbo, “O bu onye kwe, chi ya ekwe” – “When a person agrees, his spirit agrees.” If someone doesn’t want to change, there’s nothing anyone can do to make it happen. I’ve learned to focus on those who want to be uplifted and to protect my own peace.

Thank you for sharing your story, Adeola. It’s clear you’ve grown so much, and I believe your words will help others who might be going through something similar.

If Adeola’s experience can help even one person, then it wasn’t all for nothing. We’re all here to grow, learn, and become better, but sometimes, that means knowing when to let go and trust that God will guide us back to ourselves.

I Believe In You Girl