Just Because I Want A Relationship Doesn’t Mean I Want It With You

Wanting the same things in life isn’t an automatic yes. Smiling at your phone after we’ve been texting for a week doesn’t mean I’m your girlfriend, especially if we haven’t even met yet. You can’t be “fond” of me if you know nothing about me. The way you read my message might be the complete opposite of how I intended it. You might’ve read way more into it when I was just being light-hearted and funny. You don’t know me until we’ve spent a significant amount of time together.

It took me 20 years to recognise love bombing. And now, after almost a year with the slowest moving man in history, I finally understand why moving slow was actually a good thing. I’m starting to get why my past relationships didn’t work out.

The guy I married told me he was in love with me after two weeks. He wasn’t in love. He just liked fucking me and hadn’t had sex in a while. He liked that I was young and mentally unstable, easier to mould, right? He never bothered to get to know me, because if he had, he’d have realised he didn’t like my personality. I’m too loud and too opinionated for him. My expectations were too high for a man whose mother was still doing his washing the day I moved in. I was with him for 15 years, and I felt alone for most of them.

The guy before him? Physically abusive when I didn’t behave the way he expected. That’s a whole traumatic shit show I’m not getting into right now, but the takeaway is this: you don’t get to say you’re into me and then lose your shit when I say I’m not feeling it. Both of those men love-bombed the crap out of me. It’s intoxicating when the person you have a crush on likes you back. It’s easy to get caught up in the whirlwind. But, and I say this with the full weight of my very stupid life lessons, I didn’t actually know either of them. And they sure as hell didn’t care to know me. I just looked good on their arm. They knew which buttons to push to keep me quiet, and the second I voiced an opinion or acted outside of the image they’d built for me, it became dangerous. They had fallen in love with their own made-up version of me—and when I didn’t live up to that, the mask slipped.

So yeah, it’s now vitally important that I actually get to know someone before I even consider diving into another relationship. One date after a week of texting? Not enough. It is enough for me to decide I never want to see you again—especially if the sex is terrible or your towel smells like it’s been hanging in your bathroom since 1996.

As my much wiser sister once said: I don’t owe you anything. I’ll ghost you. I won’t feel bad about it. And yes, I’ll probably laugh about it with everyone in the room if you keep texting weeks after I stopped replying. At that point, mate, you’ve only got yourself to blame. Especially if you sent me a shitty poem three days after we started talking. Look, I know I’m the kind of woman people should write poems and songs about. But maybe get to know me first before you drop a sonnet in my inbox. And if you are going to write me something, for the love of all things holy, put some effort in. I’m a writer, for fuck’s sake—don’t send me your creative writing if it’s absolute garbage.

And for the people in the nosebleed section who missed the announcement: I don’t have to like you back! Just because you like me or liked fucking me doesn’t mean I owe you feelings in return. If I do like you, congrats! You’ve hit the jackpot. I’m a catch. But if I don’t, just accept it and walk away with whatever dignity you have left. You can’t force chemistry. If you do, it’ll end in disaster. Just because we both want a family or a dog or a cabin in the woods doesn’t mean I want those things with you.

And if you’re a “nice guy,” I’ll give you the respect of honesty. But don’t go proving me wrong by throwing a tantrum when you don’t get your way. That’ll just confirm my decision, fuckwit. And don’t, under any circumstances, tell me you tried it on with three of my friends. What’s that meant to be—some weird threat? Like dangling other women in front of me is going to make me want you? Mate, I once accidentally drank an energy drink at 1pm and ran a sub-30-minute 5K. If you think I can’t run away, you’re sorely mistaken.

And just so we’re clear, I’m not even running away because I’m scared. I’m running because every gut instinct I have and every hard-earned life lesson tells me you’re bad news. And what makes it worse? You don’t even realise it. Even the scared guys, the emotionally unavailable ones who don’t know how to deal with their own feelings still show up in small, consistent ways. They pull back when it gets too fast, sure, but they don't explode.

You? You blew up because your expectations were built entirely in your own head. You created a fantasy and got mad at me when I didn’t play the role.

Here’s some homework for you: Google “limerence.” Sit with it. Think about your behaviour. And then realise this truth, you made up a story in your head. It wasn’t me. It was you.

Now get over it. And move on.