My last two relationships were... not good.
The first was a six-year relationship. I will save the details of that relationship for another day, but in a nutshell:
This man did nothing but leech off me. He did not work; he spent at least $700/month of my money on weed, convinced me to buy him an Xbox, PlayStation, a $1500 guitar, all his clothes, cigarettes, hygiene products, and food. He crashed my car, got it impounded, and increased my car insurance astronomically. I blew through all my savings (over 80k), had multiple utilities and credit cards go to collections, my credit score was down to 519, I was incredibly depressed and developed anxiety, and I gained 80 pounds. He would call me a bitch, cunt, an idiot, and tell me I couldn't leave him because he had nothing and nowhere to go. (When I did finally leave, he did become homeless. Boo hoo.)
The boyfriend of six years was so awful to me that after we broke up and I was looking to date again, any shred of kindness from a man made me giddy and love-drunk. We are vulnerable when we leave an abusive relationship - we have such low standards for ourselves and others. I developed crushes quickly, overinvested emotionally, and overlooked undesirable traits.
When my next boyfriend came along, he did things I hadn't experienced at all in six years with my ex, and it hooked me. I remember the day he opened a car door for me, I immediately texted my girlfriend and gushed about how amazing and sweet he was. When he bought me flowers, I thought, "This is everything. He is the perfect man!" When he transitioned from calling me by my name to referring to me as "beautiful," I thought, "I finally found the love I always wanted." Those three small things made me think this man was it.
What low standards I had back then. But I suppose that when you've been given nothing for six years by someone else, having doors opened, receiving flowers, or being called beautiful fills something in you that has been absent for so long. The expectations for how you should be treated are so low that anything at all feels like you're being spoiled and have won the lottery.
The beginning of the end was when I was his +1 to his friend's wedding. I can become overstimulated in noisy and busy environments, so after the ceremony and dinner, while everyone was drinking and dancing, I excused myself to take a breather. I wasn't even gone five minutes. When he came to find me, I was sitting alone on a chair outside the women's washroom. I needed a few minutes to myself. My boyfriend came up to me, saw a random guy 30 feet away who was apparently looking at me, and asked me who that was. I said, "This is your friend's wedding - I don't know anyone here but you." He accused me of flirting with this guy who wasn't even near me, and I hadn't even noticed until my boyfriend pointed him out.
I told him I didn't know the guy and hadn't spoken to him, and he hadn't spoken to me. My boyfriend wasn't convinced. After failing to make him understand that nothing had happened and I hadn't done anything wrong, I told him he was being ridiculous and got up to walk back to the party. He held me by the shoulders, looked at me with tears in his eyes, and said, "I'm in love with you." Keep in mind, this was the first time he said those words to me. He was drunk and had, moments earlier, accused me of flirting with another man. Not exactly romantic.
Later that night, his sister, who drove us to and from the wedding, dropped us off at a bar. After a few drinks, I excused myself to the bathroom. When I came back, my boyfriend was sitting at a table with three beautiful young women whom neither of us knew. Um, excuse me? Rude. Anyway, I walked over to their table and sat down. The women seemed confused as to why my boyfriend was there, but they were pleasant. I don't remember what the conversation was about, but at some point, my boyfriend told them I was his girlfriend. He said we had gone to a wedding, and asked if they liked my hooker boots. The table went silent. I looked at my boyfriend and said, "You're an asshole."
I had spent a lot of money to find a dress and boots I would feel comfortable in. I don't like to show a lot of skin because I do not think I look good. He knew I was self-conscious. I was wearing a jacket, a dress that fell just above my knees, and boots that were a few inches below my knees, with a one-inch heel. They were $280, and it was my first time wearing them. I love those boots, but it's been two years since that night, and I haven't worn them again. I'm not sure I ever will.
When I called him an asshole, all the women's eyes turned to him. He was like a deer in headlights - frozen and silent. Without saying anything else, I stood up and walked outside. It was -20 and snowing. I stood outside, crying, and he did not come after me. He decided to stay and drink with the random women in the bar. After a few minutes, a cab driver pulled up outside the bar and asked if I needed a ride home. Everything was at my boyfriend's house, including the keys to my apartment. So, I got the cab to drive me to my boyfriend's house. I bawled the whole car ride.
When I got to my boyfriend's house, it was locked, so I sat on the steps outside his front door, crying. The few inches of skin that my dress and boots didn't cover were red from the cold. An hour later, I heard footsteps and saw him drunkenly stumbling up the street. He had walked home from the bar. He was hammered and gave a non-apology. Because I was cold, sick of crying, and he had told me just hours earlier that he loved me for the first time, I said it was okay. I just wanted to get inside. Once we got into our pyjamas, my boyfriend called his friend, whom I'd never spoken to or met, and invited him over. As soon as his friend arrived, my boyfriend passed out. So, I was left to entertain this stranger all alone after a heartbreakingly sad night.
Nothing was ever the same after that night. The magical "He is perfect and I love him so much!" feeling died. I realized my boyfriend had a lot of maturing to do, and because he was already 35, the maturing he needed to do was unlikely to ever happen. Also, this was a man who told me on our third date that he always thought he would be the old, creepy guy hitting on young, hot beer girls at the golf course. Gross.
We stayed in the relationship for another three or four months, but I knew he didn't truly love me, or at least not in the way I deserved to be loved. Then, one day, after ten months of being in a relationship, he ghosted me. The conversation before the ghosting was me explaining how deeply sad I was - that I loved him so much, but didn't feel that same love from him. I wanted to be with him and work on things. I wanted to know what I could do to bring back the man he was at the beginning of our relationship - the man who made it clear he was interested in me and seemed so curious to learn about me. The man who showered me with compliments, talked about going on a tropical vacation together, and would drop everything to help me when I needed him. I did not get a reply.
I sent multiple texts, but he didn't acknowledge any of them. Silence is what I received. I had a bunch of things at his house, but I never got any of those things back. Finally, three weeks later, I sent one final text: "I get it now. I wish you had had the courage to tell me it was over." Still, nothing.
Seven months later, I woke up to a message from him. He apologized. He said he was sorry he hurt me, that I made him feel things he hadn't ever felt before, and he got scared. He panicked, knowing he had messed up in a big way, and didn't know what to do, so he did nothing. The longer the silence went on, the worse he felt, but he felt paralyzed, so he stayed silent. He said he had hoped I would reach out again to fight for him and our relationship. He said he would have preferred it if I had screamed at him - it would have shown him I cared. He said I was too good for him, that he loved me, and that he wanted another chance to do it right.
Thanks, but no thanks.
| "Needs I Need in a Relationship to be Happy" - list my therapist helped me come up with |
Yes, I chose poorly in the past. But not anymore. I now have a deeper understanding and appreciation for what it takes to maintain my peace. I have learned that I choose the treatment I accept from others. I choose who I give my time, energy, and effort to. I have put up with poor behaviour from men in the past, making excuses for them and staying in the relationship longer than I should have because I thought I had to earn their love, and I felt desperate for it. But those were mistakes I had to make so I could arrive at the place I am now, which is a place where I no longer tolerate people who are unkind or disrespectful. I am discerning and selective now: I no longer give undeserving people access to me.
These days, there are two options: add to my life or be excluded from it.
