🚩Red Flags 🚩

Red Flags

“Heartbreaker” by Mariah Carey

The red flags flew from day one. With each blinding banner that appeared I thought up a resolution, a way I could look beyond it or work through it. In retrospect, I should’ve known better than to become emotionally invested. There was only one possible outcome, and it was me getting hurt.

I’ll start with the first night we met. Our date had been going well. We were on his couch, buzzed from homemade cocktails, when he went in for the first kiss. I was glad he took the lead. When we kissed it was like a switch had been flipped on inside him. He became very enthused, like he was relieved that our physical chemistry matched our conversational chemistry. 

He started kissing my collarbone, then jumped up and grabbed my hand, leading me to his room. “Don’t worry, it’ll be pg-13,” he assured me. It was all consensual. Although he was dominant, I was okay with it. I was as attracted to him as he was to me (albeit less giddy) and I felt safe. 

We continued hooking up in his bedroom. He went down on me and as things escalated I half-heartedly reminded him he said pg-13. “Do you have a condom?” I asked. He pulled out a strip of them while simultaneously announcing that they make him soft. He put one on anyway, but not for long. Minutes later he took it off and tossed it next to me on his bed.

I don’t remember if I got any words out before he promised that he wouldn’t come inside of me, and then reinserted himself. It all sounds really terrible as I’m writing this, but I can’t stress enough that I didn’t feel forced in any way. I just remember thinking he was pretty reckless and deciding to be reckless with him.

While getting to know each other over text before our first date, I was informed that he’d been sexually abused by women—yes, more than one—as a child. As a result, he said he was detached from the emotionality of sex. In contrast, I like to have passionate, emotional sex. It was way too early to tell if this would be a point of tension in our unborn relationship, but I took note of it in my mind.

Another thing he told me before we met in person was that his father had six kids with six women. His dad was a rolling stone so, where did that leave him? I tried not to be judgemental but I kept thinking “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

Then there was his mother, a drug addict and alcoholic. On our second date he was candid about his strained relationship with her and how he’d walked in on her doing meth when he was a teenager. 

Despite his rough beginnings, he’d managed to graduate college and become successful. I admired that and told him so. I hoped he was one of those people who learns from his parents’ shortcomings and goes in a different direction. But there was still more cause for concern.

By our third date I’d learned he cheated on his last girlfriend. He kept referring to himself as “fluid” and said he needed variety. He confided in me that his biggest fear was that one day he’d think he found the right person, start a family, then later realize she wasn’t enough.

As if all that wasn’t enough for me, another flag popped up. His new boss was a woman he’d dated just months before we met. They’d had a great connection but he broke up with her because he wasn’t very physically attracted to her. She wanted to still be friends. 

I recognized I was dealing with a very complicated person. This guy was charming and forthcoming. He was affectionate and generous. He had the qualities that make a person easy to fall in love with. But he also had deep-seated distress. I was starting to get a clear picture: this man was a heartbreaker.

As all of these facts surfaced I had a feeling I’d be his next victim if I didn’t save myself before it was too late. Rather than take heed I made excuses for why I should keep seeing him. I thought to myself, at least he’s self-aware. At least he’s in therapy. At least he’s being honest with me. I’m looking for exclusivity, but for him and his “fluidity,” I thought maybe I could be in an open relationship. 

I considered ghosting him but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. After all, he hadn’t done anything to me personally that was grounds for dumping him. I decided to let the relationship run its course and continued to see other people as a form of emotional insurance. Well, the course was short. It wasn’t long before he ended things with me for a reason I won’t get into in this blog post.

What I will say is the unceremonious breakup was indicative of his struggle to properly love someone, and totally in line with the past behaviors and trauma he shared with me. The abrupt nature of our split made me feel like I was disposable. If I were a younger, less experienced dater I probably would’ve thought the way he treated me was my fault.

You’re probably expecting me to end this by saying something like, “next time I’ll pay attention to the warning signs,” or, “I wish I would’ve followed my instinct.” The truth is I don’t have regrets about sticking around. I really liked this person and I’m grateful for him regardless of what happened. I’m actually proud of myself for meeting him where he was in his life and approaching the situation with compassion and open-mindedness. I think it speaks to my character. 

There are no guarantees when it comes to dating. Part of being ready to love means being ready to get hurt. I took a risk and I’ll continue to take risks because I believe one day someone will be worth it.