Throughout my teenage years I was very anti-boyfriend, determined to not become tied down to my hometown through a relationship. So when I hit my 20s, having successfully evaded certain high school douchebags and hormones-crazed idiots, I thought I was well-equipped to find a decent guy. Boy was I in for a surprise.
- I was love bombed. Who even knew that was a thing? It wasn’t until recently that I realized this was how it started. A bombardment of affection, grand gestures and (quite public) declarations of love, interspersed with silent treatment and extreme mood swings. The whole thing was dizzying but I thought that must be what it felt like to be swept off your feet. It’s only now I understand it as a tactic used mainly by narcissists and sociopaths. How promising.
- I mistook controlling behavior for wanting to spend time with me. At first I was flattered he wanted to spend all his time with me rather than hang out with his friends. Turns out, he didn’t really have any friends (read: red flag). Then many months into the relationship I took his possessiveness as simply me being the most important thing is in life, after all, he would constantly tell me I was.
- I felt sorry for him when he played the victim. Mainly because I cared about him, but also because it felt good to be needed. I thrived off being his primary support and the pedestal he put me on didn’t suck either—until I started saying no. I wasn’t prepared for how terrible the fall back down would be. So, I tried to constantly be the pillar. The upkeep was exhausting, but I just thought I was being a good girlfriend.
- I mistook his inflated ego as confidence. I didn’t think someone with insecurities could possess a large ego. It wasn’t until later that I learned they both often go hand in hand. And the issue is people with big egos who lack confidence are always looking for validation. Which in this case came from using me as the pawn for his self-esteem boosts.
- I took him speaking badly about other women as a sign of loyalty. Rather than being a major warning sign of toxic douchebagery. From my few brief encounters pre-relationship I had experienced one main drag—that most flings came with another girl attached. So when he would put down other girls, I thought it was a sign of devotion. Which is kind of ironic because he ended up cheating on me with like 500 people. Good times.
- I couldn’t identify manipulation. I walked on eggshells because I had to allow for his insecurities. He was “sensitive,” so I felt like I was responsible—being the one more capable of rational thinking—to cater to his “limitations.” In reality, he used emotional blackmail and took advantage of that fact that I loved him to turn me into his personal puppet–and I was totally blind to it. I can’t imagine how frustrating it would have been for my loved ones watching from the outside. Sorry guys.
- I thought taking the high road meant forgiveness. Not surprisingly, I endured a lot of dodgy behavior, but being the backbone of the relationship I felt it was my duty to be the bigger person and exercise understanding and compassion. I believed if I was capable of forgiving and moving forward, I should do it. It turns out there’s another term for this, it’s called being a doormat.
- I thought my friends and family were the possessive ones. I knew I was spending way less time with the other important people in my life, but that was normal when you start a relationship, right? The trouble was, I was annoyed when they didn’t understand he was a priority, but I didn’t hold him to the same standard when the situation was reversed. I believed they were more capable than him of surrendering time with me. Well, he was totally capable—he was just being a selfish prick.
- I let his issues always override my own. Which was really just more of his victim playing. No matter how badly I felt in a situation, somehow his problems were always worse. I let his shortcomings be the reason he was always the one who needed support, even if I was struggling. It was like if I could convince myself my concerns with the relationship weren’t a big deal, maybe things weren’t so bad; maybe everything would be fine. (Spoiler: everything wasn’t fine.)
- I convinced myself my trust issues were paranoia. The thing is, toxic people are incredibly good liars. What would eat away at the conscious of a regular person is like water off a sociopathic duck’s back. When someone is convincingly and consistently reassuring you that everything is good, you start to question your own judgment. I ruled my anxiety out as paranoia, when it was really my poor gut telling me “for the love of god woman GTFO of this situation.” The main thing I learned from dating a toxic guy? ALWAYS trust your instincts.
