Boyfriend #3 (BF#3) was my first encounter with a narcissist.
everything i wanted by Billie Eilish
“It’s better if you start as friends.” Anyone else ever heard that? It may have worked for others, but let me tell you! It did not work for me.
BF#3 and I were friends first, we were in the same circle. Our relationship didn’t start out as a crazy, full-force attraction like previous boyfriends had. It was his personality that brought me in. He was confident and carried himself well. He was super sweet to everyone. He had a job and a car, and was a year older. It seemed like he had his life figured out.
He grew to be a picture perfect high school boyfriend.
He would pick me up for every event, every party, every dinner. We seemed to gravitate towards each other, so making it official wasn’t a surprise to anyone. It felt good to find another person to love and to feel love from.
After only two years together, he proposed.
We spontaneously went into Kay Jewelers one day and picked out a simple silver band with a bigger diamond than we could afford. It is about the size of a large corn kernel. HA. I was so on the moon. I felt like the baddest bitch.
However, this story is anything but a fairytale. The payments of the ring fell back on me after he lost his job at Taco Bell (facepalm). I proudly paid off that stupid ring and still own it to this day. (pictured above)
Besides, this proposal didn’t mean a wedding anytime soon, it was more of a way to show everyone I was his.
A year later, I discovered that he had been lying to me.
He had been cheating for three years of our relationship. We had a whole 6 months in a monogamous relationship before he met her. My ego was hurt more than my heart at that point. I felt like a fool and to top it off, she was gorgeous.
I read comments on his social media of them flirting but I couldn’t bring myself to message her. Seeing the damning evidence wasn’t quite enough to push me over the edge at first. His sweet words filled in all the cracks.
“Those comments don’t mean anything.” “So, you believe other people over me?”. Turned into.. “We were fighting every time I hung out with her.” “We are just friends, we never dated.” “I will never talk to her again.”
He was relentlessly inflating my ego, manipulating me into thinking I was his number one, and that he loved me most. He said she wasn’t a threat, that I was the center of his attention. Texts all day, calls all night, pulling me aside at hangouts. I wasn’t strong enough to ignore him and deep inside, I felt this pull to be the “victorious” woman in this story, so I let him back in.
His lying only got worse. It became a game for him. First he would mess up, then literally love bomb me until I forgave. He knew what to say every time, and young me needed what he was saying to be true.
After our fights over social media flirting, he decided it was easiest to block me and just for good measure, he added a code to his phone. He said I was being too paranoid and reading into everything, but we all know that isn’t why.
ALWAYS TRUST YOUR GUT. I don’t care if you end up being wrong, that feeling deep down is worth the investigation.
That “friend group” I mentioned earlier, they knew about her. They met her, hung out with her, and allowed her into our group. They kept this secret from me for three long years! Not just a handful, but everyone. Dicks before chicks I guess. When a few of those friends finally confirmed my worries, I was done.
I felt like a fool!
He pleaded for months, promising their relationship was over, promising that I was the love of his life and that I was crazy for thinking he would ever intentionally hurt me.
After a while, I was positive it had been my fault. He had me believing that I pushed him away and always causing fights. He didn’t want to always feel horrible about himself and she made him feel special.
He officially lost his grip on me when I talked to his other girlfriend myself. He had never ended things with her, and they had been consistently together for the last three years. We were even at the same big parties.
He was a pathological liar.
I was disgusted and worried about him at the same time. I felt bad for sticking up for myself and for some fucked up reason I needed him to be happy. I didn’t realize that he was playing my codependent strings.
After I graduated high school, my family and I moved north to Santa Cruz, California. A beautiful relief from the suffocatingly crowded LA County.
The universe was giving me an out, a change to get away from BF#3.
The distance didn’t matter to him. He refused to let the break-up go. Every single day I would get texts saying he was so in love and I was ruining his life by not being with him.
My only saving grace was being able to turn off my phone and simply ignore him. He was far, far away.
I would be lying if I said that was the end of us. Some little speckle inside me hoped he would grow up and when I got lonely, I would text him. He gladly came running. He would frequently drive 8 hours for a weekend visit. I felt special again. Who else drives that far for a 48 hour stay?
He was able to live two lives and I was able to live in a fantasy of love. Until I received a message from her on Facebook.
Before I even opened it, I could feel my heart breaking. I had my hopes wrapped up in his actions. I thought he was trying to prove himself with his visits. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The warmth and comfort I felt with him melted away. I tried to push him away slowly and quietly, I wasn’t prepared for his never ending guilt trip texts. My heart couldn’t handle his sweet nothings. I was breaking inside.
Working full time and keeping my college courses full also, became my new excuse. At first he thought I was just doing what was expected of me but I was really building my own life, away from him, and it felt good.
It wasn’t until I started to make myself unreachable that he noticed how far I had drifted. He threatened to come to my house, my work, even my college and although he lived 8 hours away, I knew he would do it.
I wasn’t afraid he would physically hurt me, but of the mental anguish that would follow. He knew all the buttons to push, all the memories to talk about. He knew what to say to make me forget, but he also knew how to tear me down just enough to believe him.
Soon, I gained enough confidence to say everything I had kept inside for so long. I found my fire and burned every bridge we had between us until he had no reason to keep coming back anymore.
The sweet relief I called Santa Cruz, went from my savior from BF#3 to a hellhole of trauma for years with BF#4.
I hadn’t learned about my idealization of new partners. I didn’t know what love addiction was or see codependency as a bad thing. My extreme feelings of attraction were unhealthy, but when it felt good, it felt amazing. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t stop my pull.
When I met BF#4, I was, once again, obsessed.