(explained through pop songs, because of course it is)

The Please Please Please Era (October 2023)

“Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another”

I was 21 years old when I met Sigh on Threads. I wasn’t the average bright eyed bushy tail college student, especially at that time. The truth is I struggled with alcoholism and posttraumatic stress, and October 2023 was the first full month I was sober. I documented my life on Threads; every deranged thought, every AA joke, every quick witted reply was all meticulously calculated; and I became insanely popular on the app; grossing over 10K followers at my peak. Sigh was one of them. A persistent one, at that.

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.

I remember Sigh nearly recoiling at the thought of me being younger than the internet, Harry Potter, and the September 11th attacks. All of those things being Millennial interests, experiences, and traumas. Yet, I didn’t think much of it, because I was an adult, or atleast, felt adult enough to talk to him romantically and sexually. Though he hated that I was younger than him, he still interacted with me as if I weren’t.

A time where it could’ve been about understanding my mental health and what sobriety meant for me became all about Sigh; days into talking, Sigh told me about his life, and I spoke about mine. The problem wasn’t that I was open, the problem was what Sigh did with the information I gave him. He knew I had trauma surrounding having children and pregnancy? He promised my-sorry, our future kids were waiting for me. Twin daughters to be exact. He knew I was dating to marry? He had me pick out engagement rings. He knew I wanted to live close to the mountains? He showed me what kind of interior design he liked for our future house; and I reciprocated, because finally, finally someone saw me as the wife and mother I eventually wanted to grow into one day. Someone is taking me seriously. And yes, in my mind, this would magically land on my lap after quitting alcohol.

One week. A one week whirlwind of “I like-like you’s” and “we’d be engaged by now if we lived in the same town, and not across the country” and “I mean this plationically, of course.” layered in sarcasm. I started writing a short story for him, and he started comparing me to the moon and the stars. Good mornings, goodnights, you’re so cute, can we even say the L word if it’s only been six days? Am I dreaming? Did I meet my husband at 21? Here’s a 200 dollar gift, and a 70 dollar stuffed bunny, and constant flattery.

On Halloween, one week after we started talking, he brought up some insecurities about our age gap, and that was the first time I offered him an out; “if that’s how you’re feeling, maybe we shouldn’t continue this.” It was like I almost knew what was to come.

He protested against it. For some reason, I thought that meant he could love me. He could.

“If you want to go and be stupid, don’t do it in front of me.”

The Girl, So Confusing Era (November – December 2023)

“I don’t know if you like me, sometimes I think you might hate me, sometimes I think I might hate you, maybe you just want to be me.”

Sigh’s friends didn’t like me.

He told them about me on Halloween night, and they berated him and me; he stood up for me, until he started to get swayed by them. People who I'll never have the displeasure of meeting making snap judgements about my experiences and character because I was younger. They’re your friends, shouldn’t they be happy for you? It offended me, even if I understood what they were saying now. The gag of it all was that some privileged thirty-somethings from Oregon believed that they’ve lived more of a life than a twenty-something who had to get sober at 21, survived gun violence during her adolescence, and is a first generation American from Latin America who lives in the south…just because what? Because they remember when Rugrats was on air or something?

The thing that hurt the most was Sigh siding with his friends, agreeing with them, but still running to me to tell me all the hurtful things they were saying about me.

This is when problems started to arise; because he didn’t want anyone online to know that we were talking or that we were even together. He flirted with other women; then said that’s how he speaks to everyone (insert eye roll). Of course, if his real life friends hated the idea of him being attracted to me, he couldn’t let the internet know that he was growing ashamed of the 21 year old he love-bombed.

He became completely transfixed by our age gap. His obsession with how bad it was for him to be attracted to me made me feel uncomfortable. He started to victimize me, saying that I was falling for manipulation or that he was being predatory. He was saying the quiet part out loud in an attempt to have me sympathize with him. Every time he did say this, which was constant, it brought me back to how I gave him an out initially. He didn’t have to do anything. Yet, here he was, calling me pet names while making me feel so small for having feelings for him. How dare I have pure intentions and want to genuinely love him? How dare he be attracted to me? Being attracted to me is so wrong.

He would project his insecurities onto me, saying that I shouldn’t waste time with him or like him because I'm so young, and that he didn’t want me to end up like him. End up like him? I’m a college degree ahead of him. I got sober at 21. I was moving out. I have dreams and goals, whether he believed that or not; It’s not my fault he didn’t utilize his 20s. He underestimated me. He condescended me. He was jealous. Yet, I took the brunt of his actions because between it all; he’d still say he’d see me one day, that he wanted to kiss me, and that he still wanted that future I wanted with me. To be honest, I don’t think he really wanted that future, but said he did to keep me around.

There was a time where I felt pinned against his deceased ex, the other woman. you can’t compete with a dead girl, it’s an impossible standard I always felt he wanted me to reach. So do I look like her? Act like her? I know grief, I know it lingers, but why are you talking about her as if I should become her? Clear emotional manipulation, he made me feel stupid and sorry for him because I loved him.

By this time, I was starting to grow frustrated with him. Who wouldn't? It was the main source for my anxiety, and this eventually led to me relapsing around December 11th of 2023. Was Sigh the reason I did it? Yes and no. It was a culmination of things; I was worried about moving out of my parent’s house for the first time, I was starting my first semester at USF, it was raining and cold that day, etc. Yet, it’s not a coincidence that he was in my life and I relapsed, Because when he’s not in my life, I don’t relapse. He still doesn’t know that I relapsed.

“Can’t tell if you wanna see me, falling over and failing. And you can’t tell what you’re feeling, I think I know how you feel.”

The Angel of my Dreams Era (December 2023 – January 2024)

“It’s so bittersweet, I will always want you and need you, you don’t care.” (the music video is exactly how i felt about this entire relationship)

I was determined to get to the bottom of this, fix it or leave, and Sigh stalled for as long as humanly possible. I’d be waiting for him to text back so we could have a discussion about where things were headed, and he’d willingly ignored me. Guess who he was talking to online. I remember seeing him talk to other women, and he gaslighted me, for maybe the 40th time, saying “how do you know they’re women?” (1+1=5 I guess, I was more mad that he wasn’t present in our conversation rather than who he was talking to, the fact that he was very clearly talking to other women was just the cherry on top).

Finally, in swift action, I asked him if there was anything else we could do, he knew it was over; he can’t seem to hold me or let me go, so I can’t give in to myself and I can’t have control. As much as he bent and pulled and pushed and sprung me forward, our breakup made me emotional; since we broke up around the holidays and when my new life at USF was starting. I needed a constant, and I didn’t know how to turn to myself yet for that stability.

We attempted to be friends, I even had to apologize for what happened (how dare I expect someone to commit to me after they said they would!) however, I resented him for the time wasted, the promises he was fine with breaking, and the overarching feeling that he was okay with hurting me. He didn’t treat me any better as a friend; he’d constantly bring up our entanglement in a joking matter. That’s what it was to him. That’s who I was. A joke. To him, I was his celebrity crush; something unattainable. To me, I wanted to be his woman, I wanted to be his man, but I was just the one he refused to understand. He wants to be alone, but he says he wants me to have his children. He twirls me and makes me feel stupid for dancing. subtweeting (subthreading, actually) and copying/stealing my jokes and content; treating me like some B-list muse.

He’d talk about wanting a woman like me online, but didn’t appreciate me when he had me; idealizing what he wants and when he has it, he neglects it. It’s evident, especially when he talks about the other woman. he only loves when it’s gone.

He sent me a gift cards. He flirted with me. He made me cry on facetime after he forced me to open up. I told him no, he didn’t stop pressuring me. Every single boundary I tried to set up crumbled at my feet. I told him I loved him, but he couldn’t say it back. Didn’t want to give the wrong idea, but wanted to marry me later. The final nail in the coffin was my declining mental health. If I had to be gone for him to love me, then I wanted to be gone. I went to the counseling center at my school and to my Sponsor, who told me to cut it off; told me to leave him, told me my future husband would never make me feel this awful about myself. Unlike the relapse, I knew the way I was feeling was mainly because of him, and partly because of the new adjustment in my life. The adjustment to my new life would be easier if I didn’t have a 30 year old man driving me up the wall. It was his way of emotionally isolating me. It all started to feel intentional, he wanted to keep doing this.

Instead of snapping at myself, because I know the consequences won't help my cause, I snapped at him. It was the first and only time I advocated for myself. My friends were finally proud of me—I was finally proud of me. The last time we ever spoke to each other was when he suggested a small break from talking, but I was the one who committed to no contact being a long term ordeal; whether he knew that or not. I was done. He had bled me dry of any and all sympathy I had for him. I was always the one who committed the most, and with a heavy heart, I walked away.

“Love when you call me a star, you lead me down in the dark.”

The We Can’t be Friends Era (February – May 2024)

“I didn’t think you’d understand me, how could you ever even try?”

I hate to say that I felt relieved when I finally stopped responding to Sigh. Life felt simple again, adjusting to Tampa got easier, and I was starting to feel like myself again; even if I was catching myself falling in and out of love with him nearly everyday. One day, I was ready to message him about something silly I saw online; the next, I was enjoying life without him. I started taking the necessary steps to help myself; I restarted AA and started spending more time with women, and focused heavily on my studies and hobbies. I started going to therapy, and dove into EMDR, which helped me process how strained this relationship made me feel and the toll it took on me.

Yet, the feeling didn’t go away, as much as I sat in my car crying and praying, I was waiting for him to like me again. I was seeing a guy for about a month and a half (Feb-April), who treated me just about the same as Sigh, but I wasn’t as invested because I hadn’t fully processed the emotional whiplash Sigh put me through. I don’t talk about that other relationship often, I don’t really count it. Especially since he ran several red lights with me in the car, withheld my assignments from me, and was abusive in other ways; I did get a taste of what being in a relationship with Sigh would’ve been like if we had met in person. I didn’t like it.

That’s when my therapist broke the news that what I went through was Narcissistic abuse; The cycle starts by idealizing the person (i.e love-bombing), then devaluing them (the projecting, the manipulation, etc) before rejecting and discarding them (the break up) – only to start all over again in the hoovering/reengagement phase (the insta-stalking Sigh did for four months straight after going no contact). Each phase keeps the victim confused and dependent, trapping them in the abuse cycle (Saxena).

I knew that Sigh most likely did not have narcissistic personality disorder, He might’ve not done this intentionally, but it doesn’t matter what his intentions were; his recklessness with me falls in line with this level of maltreatment. This is how I’ll always remember him, and it’s something, whether he knows this or not, I’ll have to unpack and deal with for a very long time. This was more than just a power imbalance with age; he knew I was early in sobriety, and he knew what I wanted the most; a family of my own and genuine love. Sure, I played a role. I’m not exactly innocent, but it was not my fault. He monopolized it and exploited me for his own personal gain. I wasn’t naive, I was robbed. I could’ve been perfect, and this still would’ve happened. I could’ve been like her, I felt like he wanted that deep down. If she was still here, he’d fail her too. He only cared about her to that extreme because he never got the chance to fail her. You can’t be grieving your could-be wives if you can’t be a good could-be husband, or boyfriend for that matter. Could’ve, Would’ve, Should’ve.

And in a way, I was like the other woman, because we both ended up leaving him and haunting him on our way out. We would’ve been friends instead of competitors; You don’t know me, but I know you.

Sigh did come back; not once, not twice, but five separate times. I removed him as a follower, and there he is again several more times (while “talking” to someone else, mind you, the audacity). I never interacted with him when he came back. He was just watching me, baiting me to be the one to reach out. I finally blocked him in May. I wiped him off my phone, and donated his gifts. I finally felt peace for the first time in weeks; it was the hardest thing I had to do regarding him, so the fact that I did it made me feel stronger.

“So for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all I need.”

The Good Luck, Babe! Era (Present)

“You can say it’s just the way you are, make another excuse, another stupid reason”

I’ve had four relationships in my life. I dated a girl when I was 17-18 years old. She was pretty weird, and older than me, similar to my relationship with Sigh; except I was a minor and it was a clear case of grooming. She cheated. I then dated a coworker of mine two years later, not much to say about someone so unremarkable; just your average, run of the mill, college drop out of a bum who hates himself and takes it out on the women he dates, and doesn’t know how to condition his hair properly. He also cheated. Then, I dated Sigh.

I stayed strong; and through car accidents and cancer scares and grief, I did not reach out to Sigh. I’ll never let him embarrass me again. Being the one that got away isn’t easy, neither is being the one that got healthy after the relationship ended. I don’t smoke anything anymore, my skin’s never been clearer, and the past doesn’t get to me anymore thanks to my resilience and reaching out for help when I needed it. I have a strong support group and an even stronger sense of self.

It took me so long to be comfortable to tell this story for two reasons; I thought I was being overdramatic, and crying wolf. However, that’s just a testament to how much distrust Sigh instilled in me. Everyone I’ve told this story to has told me what I experienced was emotional abuse, ranging from my little sister, to countless mental health professionals. Another reason why I hesitated to tell my story was because of fear; I feared retaliation from him. I feared further gaslighting. I feared that I was ruining the chance of reuniting with him. I feared that no one would believe me because I deleted everything from him off his phone.

The hardest part is accepting what happened. Some days, I struggle to see how bad it truly was for me. I talk myself out of all the hard work I did because I hate the idea that what happened happened. I think about the way Sigh presented himself to me and others and think; he’s not capable of hurting me that way. It had to be unintentional. Then I think about how he knew what he was doing; he’s older, he knows more than me, his friends said so. I hate that it hits me hard when I realize that he’s is capable of that. It makes me angry that despite being the younger one, I had to be the bigger person. I had to be the mature one.

In a fucked up way; I don’t ‘hate’ Sigh. I understand him; it’s worse. But that’s why we become therapists, right? To understand the sick people we unfortunately had to meet? This relationship changed the way I perceive love for better or worse. Love should be given to those who have shown you that they’re worth having it, not given to someone who convinced you to let them have it a week in. And yes, there is a reason why that 30 something year old man is not married yet and why he’s dating younger women. Women his age won’t coddle him about what daddy did or what mommy did. Women his age are already raising children, why add another to the mix? Women his age know better.

My experience with this relationship had a ripple effect in my life. If I had never met Sigh, he wouldn’t have sent me all these gifts, and without one of those gifts, I wouldn’t have met my current boyfriend. I’m serious. If I hadn’t met Sigh, I, quite literally, wouldn’t have ever met Mike – who flew from Arizona to Florida to ride out Hurricane Helene with me as our first date. Who sees me as a lover but also sees me as one of his best friends, and who treats me with the care Sigh lacked. He’s my longest and healthiest relationship. It might not be my first time in love, but It’s the first time I’ve never been worried about it ending horribly — or ending at all. He was (and continues to be) so patient with me while I was healing from this relationship, and he’s everything I could’ve asked for and more. proving one thing and one thing only; if one man won’t do it, another man will and will do it happily (that, or Sigh has some serious Good Luck Chuck energy).

If Sigh hadn’t mistreated me, I wouldn’t have auditioned for a short film about emotional abuse, I wouldn’t have gotten the role of Jessica, and I wouldn’t have used my own experiences to make the film feel more real. The work I did with Beneath The Surface (2025) is something I’m immensely proud of. The short story I wrote for him, which was a fantasy short story, is now a horror story (The Cemetery Prince) and now, I’m adapting the short story into a screenplay. So in a way, I'm grateful this happened; I went from Sabrina Carpenter behind bars, waiting for Barry Keoghan to bail me out; to bailing myself out and transforming into Chappell Roan on the VMA stage. Because now, I'm on the other side of it all, and on the other side; I’m still the Queen of Swords. I will never be the girl he knew ever again.

Everything good that came out of this relationship was because of me. Every blessing I received after Sigh was because I gave myself closure; I did it. Though I’m in the Good Luck, Babe era of this relationship cycle ending; personally, I’m currently in the Aquamarine phase of my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

And then it finally happened.

A few weeks ago, I was scrolling through dms to find an old friend’s account, It was her birthday and we haven’t spoke since I left Gainesville. I saw that I did not delete some old dms between me and Sigh. My eyes glanced over to his new profile photo.

And I laughed.

“You know I hate to say it, but I told you so.”

below are conversations from the National Domestic Abuse Hotline regarding the IPV I experienced from 2023-2024

*names have been changed

If you or a loved one has been through Intimate Partner Violence, information and resources will be available at wannatalkaboutit.com

Sources

National Domestic Violence Hotline. “Identify Abuse.” The Hotline, 2023, www.thehotline.org/identify-abuse/.

Saxena, Silvi. “What Is a Narcissistic Abuse Cycle & How Does It Work?” Choosing Therapy, 18 Nov. 2021, www.choosingtherapy.com/narcissistic-abuse-cycle/.

Good Luck, Babe! How an Age Gap Relationship Ruined my Life for the Better.