Amara and Tunde moved in together with a family introduction or real plans. Amara had been spending most of her time at Tunde’s place anyway. Transport was stressful. Rent was expensive. It just made sense. At least, that’s what they told themselves.
So one day, her things stopped going back home. Her toothbrush stayed. Her clothes filled half the wardrobe. Her presence became permanent.
At first, it felt like love. Waking up together. Cooking together. Falling asleep in the same space every night. It felt like they had skipped the hard part and gone straight into marriage. But gradually, things began to shift. There was no clarity or real commitment.
They started arguing about little things – money, chores, expectations. She found herself giving more, adjusting more, tolerating more because somewhere in her mind, she believed she was already in it.
But he didn’t see it that way. To him, nothing had really changed. There were no vows. No responsibility. He thought they were just two people cohabiting. And that’s the part many people don’t realise. Cohabitation often looks like commitment, but it does not carry the same structure. So while one person is building emotionally, the other may still be undecided.
Amaka stayed longer than she should have, because leaving didn’t just feel like ending a relationship, it felt like dismantling a life they had already started. Until one day, when it ended. It wasn’t a ceremonious closure, if there was any closure. All that happened was distance. So she left with more than just her bags. She left with questions, confusion and with a kind of grief she could not fully explain.
How do you explain the loss of something that was never clearly defined?
This is where we should begin the conversation. The scars of cohabitation are not always visible. They show up in the way a partner begins to question their worth. In the way they overextend in the next relationship, trying to prove themself. In the way they confuse access with commitment. In the way the boundaries begin to blur.
Because when you have given yourself fully in a space that requires no formal responsibility, it can distort your understanding of what love should look like. Cohabitation does not automatically lead to commitment. Sometimes, it delays it. Other times, it replaces it. And sometimes, too, it leaves one person more invested than the other.
As a counsellor, I have seen this pattern too many times to ignore it. The issue is not just what people do. It is what those choices do to their identity, their expectations, and their emotional safety. Love is not just about how close you are to your partner. It is about responsibility and clarity. Things have to be clearly defined so that one partner does not think they are superior to the other. And anything that looks like love but lacks these things will eventually reveal itself.
If you are in that space, or you are considering it, ask yourself: Am I building something, or am I adjusting to something that has no clear direction? Because not every shared space is a shared future.
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Featured Image by Gustavo Fring for Pexels
The post Rita Chidinma: Cohabitation Looks Like Love, Until It Ends appeared first on BellaNaija – Showcasing Africa to the world. Read today!.
Amara and Tunde moved in together with a family introduction or real plans. Amara had been spending most of her time at Tunde’s place anyway. Transport was stressful. Rent was expensive. It just made sense. At least, that’s what they told themselves. So one day, her things stopped going back home. Her toothbrush stayed. Her clothes
The post Rita Chidinma: Cohabitation Looks Like Love, Until It Ends appeared first on BellaNaija – Showcasing Africa to the world. Read today!. Read More
