Love Bombed: My Story of Worship, Betrayal, and No Contact (Part 6 of 32,000,000)
The Story He Told Me
When we met, I was deeply moved. How he soldiered through the last 13 years of his 30-year marriage – cold and disconnected—no affection, no gratitude, no shared experiences. He spoke of serving well and faithfully as a parent, provider, and fixer, but never feeling like a true partner. And realized he needed more. I was the more.
Before me, he engaged a woman who requested of him to hit her hard enough to leave marks, who called him Daddy and insisted he call her Baby, Daddy’s Baby Girl, who threatened suicide if he upset her. But again, he did not speak negatively of anyone outright. He artfully shared in ways which allowed me to draw my own sympathetic conclusions.
I felt heartbroken for him. How is it possible for someone so awake, intentional, and generous—so full of love and light—to have only experienced misfortune in love?
The Little Lies
He found me on a dating app, and the lies started small, but immediately. I clearly indicated my preference for a man my height or taller—he lied about his height. I wanted someone politically aligned—he lied about his politics. I wasn’t a fan of thick Southern accents—he assured me he didn’t have one. But he was from South Georgia. Of course he had one. He explained it all away when I called him on it. So charming, who could be mad? Fuck it be short. Vote for the enemy. Speak like someone from the woods of South Georgia. Who even cares because you are soooooo good for me, so good for my nervous system. An emotional and sensory delight.
Initially, I tried to decline: I don’t think we need to talk or meet.
He replied, What’s it gonna hurt?
And so, of course we spoke. Then, met. And it went all the way, full tilt, everywhere. Immediately.
Disclaimer: I am sharing my personal experience exactly as I recall it. This is my truth, my story, and my perspective~ to document what I lived through.
