This time last year, I met the first person I fell in love with after leaving my ex.

It started out in a really positive, fun place. We had a lot of similar interests and tastes. He seemed to be vulnerable and emotionally open. And he had a kid, which told me he wasn’t interested in playing games. His dating profile said that he was done with the “dating scene” and was looking for something real. It took me several days to like him back on Match, and when I did, he messaged me almost instantly. We talked, exchanged phone numbers, talked on the phone, and met up for a few dates.

I was swept off my feet into what would become a really damaging experience. Even men who consider themselves “leftists” and “social justice activists” aren’t exempt from being hugely misogynistic. The first three weeks, I felt like I was in heaven. In hindsight, I was being “love-bombed,” which is a form of (even unintentional) manipulation. It’s when someone drops a lot of affirming words and actions. After our first two dates, he said he wanted to exclusively date me (but not commit to me). Within our first week, he said he wanted to take me to Star Wars Land in California for his birthday because he knew I loved Star Wars. Within the first three weeks, he started talking about potentially introducing me to his son. He invited me over to his place every single night of the week. We did karaoke, we watched movies, we went out to bars. He introduced me to his friends.

I thought it was all leading somewhere. But it wasn’t. And I don’t think it ever would have, even if circumstances had been other than what they were. Covid-19 hit. He freaked out. He made an impulsive decision to dump me over text and then ghosted me. Said he knew I was catching feelings and he felt “pressured” to commit when he wasn’t ready (even though I never once brought up or even implied that I was waiting for him to commit). It was bad. But, we decided to stay friends.

I moved on. I met the man who is now my partner, and while our connection wasn’t nearly as “fiery” as the one before, it lasted. My partner now has never been one to casually date. He has always wanted commitment, companionship, partnership. Granted, he and I didn’t meet in person until June of last year, but by that point, I figured the other guy was long out of the picture. He’d had a chance to get back together with me, and he’d said he only wanted us to be friends, so that’s what we were. He said he wanted to specifically be friends with benefits, but I told him he didn’t get to ask that of me. I should have seen then where things were headed, but as usual, I gave the benefit of the doubt.

Here’s the thing I’ve come to realize: toxic people can’t help but be toxic. Even if/when they mean well, it comes from a place of selfishness. The closer my partner and I got, the more the other guy implied jealousy. When we talked, he would say things like, “Your friendship is important to me” and “You’re someone I value” and then he’d not talk to me for months. One night, it culminated in a text conversation where he explicitly told me he was jealous when he saw my Instagram pics of my partner and I; he told me that he fantasized about me “a lot more than he should,” that I had left a shirt at his place and he sometimes wore it around his house, and that if I wanted it back, he’d mail it to me, and that my partner “better treat me the way I deserve to be treated.”

I was too stunned to respond. I was angry and I felt guilty, like I had done something wrong, even though I knew I hadn’t. I messaged some friends and asked them what they thought of it all, and they told me 1) he was fishing to see how committed my partner and I were, and 2) I would never be “just a friend” to him. He wanted to be friends with benefits, I said no. At another time asked me if I wanted to move in with him as his “platonic roommate” and I said no. He refused to respect my boundaries, clearly regretted ending things between us, but wasn’t willing to just say so openly because he knew it would mean that our “friendship” would be over.

So I spent a few days compiling a text message wherein I told him I couldn’t be friends with him. He consistently disrespected my boundaries and made me feel guilty for moving on, when he was the one who ended our relationship in the first place, and did so over text message during a pandemic. I told him his attachment to me was unhealthy and that I didn’t want to hear from him again. And then I blocked his number. About a month later, he disappeared off of Instagram.

The last week of March 2020 was horrible for me. I spent a week crying. I didn’t eat. I hardly slept at all. My anxiety and depression were absolutely horrible. I tried online dating again, and it was just a clusterfuck of disappointments. Even the men who were looking for long term commitment couldn’t actually take the step to commit. A good friend of mine gave me some much needed encouragement by telling me, “They won’t commit to you because they know they don’t deserve you.” And I believe she was right.

It’s hard to know that my memories over the next six weeks will include the heartbreak of trusting someone so much, I allowed myself to fall for him, only to be rejected and pushed away. It’s also coming up on the second anniversary of my grandmother’s passing, so this time of year really fucks with my head and my heart. But I can still be grateful, because I’m with a man who shows me how much he loves me every single day. I’m still not used to that. He makes me laugh, even when it’s 11:00 at night and I’m trying to go to sleep and he’s trying to make quiet pterodactyl noises but it’s not working because he “can’t quietly pterodactyl.” Or when he says he had a lovely day because he “woke up next to me.” Or when he uses my pet name and says, “Honeeeeeeey” in his deeply sexy voice that I love so much. I love so much about him. My life is simple for the first time, ever. Not easy, but simple. I don’t have panic attacks every day anymore. I don’t even have them weekly. I’m on medication for my anxiety and depression, and they’ve allowed me to manage both without constantly feeling like I’m on the verge of a breakdown. He supports me.

Sometimes it’s good to remember what we’ve been through, but to also celebrate how far we’ve come. I’m working through my trauma, my PTSD, and I’m doing it with a feeling of deserving to be happy and healthy. And that’s not a feeling I get externally, but rather from inside myself. I’m changing my interiority from someone who has hated myself for a long time, someone who has been misused and mistreated for years and been made to feel like a horrible person, into someone who recognizes my worth, my value, and is starting not to give two shits what people say or think about me. I’m learning to love myself so that I don’t ever allow myself to be mistreated again. And it’s a hard road. Healing is not easy. But it hurts a lot less having someone who truly loves me by my side, cheering me on.