What did you mistake for love? That’s the question I want to start with today.

Because sometimes we spend years asking the wrong questions. Why did I stay? Why did they treat me that way? Why didn’t I leave sooner? Why does she keep going back? Why would anyone put up with that? We can be so quick to judge someone’s choices without ever stopping to wonder what happened underneath them.

This episode comes from Chapter Three of my new book, The Great Investigation, a book built around one simple idea: what if we learned to ask ourselves better questions?

Because our brains can be incredibly quick to judge. We see someone struggling, behaving differently, staying in a relationship that hurts them, repeating a pattern, or making choices we don’t understand, and almost instantly, we create a story about who they are. But where did we learn to do that? Who taught you to judge?

So much of what we carry is learned. Racism is learned. Shame is learned. Prejudice is learned. The language we use is learned. The beliefs we form about ourselves and other people are often handed to us long before we’re old enough to question them. And sometimes, we don’t even realise we’re carrying someone else’s beliefs.

So what happens when we finally stop and investigate?

Instead of asking, “Why did I stay?” we can ask, “What did I mistake for love?” Instead of asking, “Why didn’t my intuition make me leave?” perhaps we ask, “Why did I stay when something inside me was telling me to go?” And instead of looking back at every relationship and deciding whether it was a success or a failure, we can ask, “What did each relationship teach me?”

Because perhaps the people who hurt us aren’t simply chapters we’d like to erase. Perhaps they’re clues. Perhaps the patterns we keep repeating aren’t proof that something is wrong with us. Perhaps they’re invitations to investigate what we were taught, what we believed, what we tolerated, and what we confused with love.

And maybe this isn’t just about the people we’ve loved. Maybe it’s about the way we’ve learned to see ourselves, too.

So today, we’re going to look at the mirrors we’ve been handed, the mirrors we’ve chosen, and the reflections we’ve spent years believing were actually us.

This is The Great Investigation.

And the first question is a simple one—but it might change the way you look at your entire history:

What did you mistake for love?

Welcome back to Scars Beneath the Scars. This is Episode 13, and this one might make some of you stop, some of you think, and maybe even question what you thought you understood about power, control, dominance and submission.

Because what if surrender isn’t weakness? What if dominance isn’t about anger or control? And what if the difference between abuse and surrender isn’t what it looks like from the outside, but whether there was a choice?

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, and I’ve had to really look at my own assumptions, especially when you bring trauma, trust, sexuality and healing into the conversation. And what I discovered surprised me.

So before we judge the whip, the word “Daddy,” the dominant, the submissive, or the people who choose to explore this world, let’s take a step back and ask a different question: what happens when somebody finally feels safe enough to surrender?

This is Episode 13: The Difference Between Power, Control and Surrender.

What does “ride or die” really mean when we take away the fantasy?

In this episode of Beneath the Scars with Zoe, we dive into the deeper meaning of loyalty, trust, friendship, protection, passion and choosing someone—not because you need them, but because life feels better with them beside you.

We hear the phrase “ride or die” everywhere: in music, movies, friendships, romantic relationships and even throughout some of the most complicated stories in history. But somewhere along the way, we’ve confused loyalty with blind devotion and staying with someone no matter what they do. Zoe explores why that isn’t real loyalty at all, and why betrayal can be the very thing that destroys the foundation a ride-or-die relationship is supposed to be built upon.

Drawing from her own experiences with love, heartbreak, betrayal, vulnerability and the walls she’s learned to build when someone breaks her trust, Zoe explores what it actually means to be safe with another person. She talks about the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation, protection and possession, intensity and intimacy, and why your lover should also be someone you genuinely like—your friend, your confidant and the person you can laugh with when life gets ridiculous.

This isn’t about finding a perfect relationship. It’s about finding something real.

It’s about having someone who knows you deeply, makes you laugh, can handle your intensity without trying to tame you, and never asks you to become smaller to make them comfortable. Someone who can hold your vulnerability without weaponizing it. Someone who can be passionate with you, peaceful with you, honest with you and still choose you when life isn’t easy.

Because maybe being someone’s ride or die was never really about asking, “Would you die for me?”

Maybe the better question is:

“Would you live beside me?”

Join Zoe as she explores the kind of love where loyalty isn’t blind, passion isn’t chaos, protection isn’t possession, and commitment doesn’t mean losing yourself.

A love where two whole people choose each other.

My ride or die. My lover. My best friend. My safe place.