I was 21 when I met Sigh on Threads. I urged him to message me. My motives were clear, I thought he was cute and wanted to know more about him. We hit it off right away. One of the first things we talked about were our ages, 21 and 30. (CW: This article mentions intimate partner violence that could be triggering for readers.)
Though he hated that I was younger than him, he still treated me as if I weren’t; the problem wasn’t that I was open with him, the problem was what he did with the information I gave him. He knew I wanted kids, so he promised that my — sorry, our — future kids were waiting. He knew I was dating to marry, so he had me pick out engagement rings and I reciprocated, because finally, finally someone saw me as the wife and mother I eventually wanted to grow into. Can we even say the L word if it’s only been six days? Did I meet my husband at 21? Here’s a 200 dollar gift.
One week after we started talking, he brought up some insecurities about our age gap. It was the first time I offered him an out; he protested against it. For some reason, I thought that meant he could love me.
This is when our problems began. He was growing ashamed of me. He became completely transfixed by our age gap. His obsession over “how bad it was for him to be attracted to me” made me feel uncomfortable. He victimized me, telling me that I was falling for manipulation or that he was being predatory. He would go on about how being attracted to me is so wrong. He would project his insecurities onto me, saying that I shouldn’t waste time with him and that I’d end up like him. End up like him? He underestimated me. Yet, I endured it because he “wanted” the future I wanted, with me. He made me feel stupid and sorry for him because I loved him.
I was determined to fix it or leave, and Sigh stalled for as long as possible. He knew it was over; he couldn’t seem to hold on to me or let me go. As much as he bent, pulled, pushed, and sprung me forward, our breakup stung. We attempted to be friends, however, I resented him for wasting my time. He didn’t treat me any better as a friend; he’d constantly bring up our entanglement in a joking matter. That’s all it was to him, a joke.
The final nail in the coffin was my declining mental health. I finally spoke up. It was the first and only time I advocated for myself, and we went no contact.
I hate to say that I felt relieved when I stopped responding to Sigh, even if I was catching myself falling in and out of love with him daily. I started taking the necessary steps to help myself, yet the feeling didn’t go away. I was waiting for him to like me again. That’s when my therapist broke the news that what I went through was narcissistic abuse. The cycle starts by the narcissist idealizing the person (e.g. love-bombing), then devaluing them (projecting, manipulation, etc.), before rejecting and discarding them (the breakup — only to start all over again in the hoovering/reengagement phase (the insta-stalking he did for four months straight). Each phase keeps the victim confused and dependent, trapping them in the abuse cycle.
This was more than just a power imbalance with age; he knew what I wanted the most. I wasn’t naive, I was robbed. I could’ve been perfect, and this still would’ve happened.
In a messed up way, I don’t hate Sigh. I understand him, which is worse. Love shouldn’t be given to someone who convinced you to let them have it, and should be given to those who have shown you that they’re worth having it. Yes, there is a reason why that thirtysomething-year-old man is dating younger women. Women his age know better. This relationship had a ripple effect in my life. If I had never met Sigh, I wouldn’t have met my current boyfriend. If Sigh hadn’t mistreated me, I wouldn’t have auditioned for a short film about emotional abuse, and gotten the role. So in a way, I’m grateful. It forced me to grow into myself.
A few weeks ago, I was scrolling through my DMs, and realized I didn’t delete some old messages between me and Sigh. My eyes glanced over to his new profile photo.
And I laughed.
*Names have been changed.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, call 911 or the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1(800) 799-SAFE (7233) or visit thehotline.org