"He didn't mind dirt. I'm not obsessed with a spotless house, but poo on the toilet bowl? Dust so thick you can't read the buttons on the TV? He was fine with that. He couldn't stand a single messy pile of clutter but didn't care much about filth. It was so odd to me, his house was always spotless when I came to visit. When we moved in together, I realized he only bothered with that if someone he wasn't comfortable with was coming over.
I knew it was probably bad when I picked up one of his two pairs of work pants and made a comment about how I was washing them because they were rather rank, to which he replied, 'Oh, that's because I haven't washed them since I bought them.'
He gets a uniform allowance in July. It was December."
"I found out that she had something wrong with her feet - some kind of infection. She would never talk about it or seek treatment for it, which meant that we couldn't wash her socks in with any of our other laundry, especially underwear.
I still don't know what it was and I'm fine with that. She's long gone from my life. She kept socks on all the time and the only real problem was when she wanted to borrow socks or shoes from me (same size feet). If I said no, she'd demand to know why, and then I'd say:
'Because of the problem with your feet.'
'What problem with my feet?'
'The infection thing. Is it a fungus? Whatever it is, that means we can't wash your socks in with the other laundry.'
And then she'd go nuts and completely lose it, screaming and shouting that it was none of my business and I didn't have the right to judge her and I have no idea how hard it is for her [insert increasingly unrelated screaming and crying].'
I have no idea how, or why, I lasted a whole year living with that woman."
"We dated off and on for five months. We spent most of the time out and about, home time was spent watching Netflix. We had some great times and so I thought I found the one.
Once she moved in, it was 14 hours a day of political 'news' and opinion shows which would leak into every conversation we had about any subject. The entire DVR was filled within two weeks with the CNN and MSNBC six hours of evening politics shows. Delete one to make room for something and she knew within a few hours. It was creepy obsessive; she kept a notebook with TV schedules of those shows, with tightly planned viewing times and recordings to maximize being able to watch and record it all.
There was no hint of this when I asked her to move in. We agreed on most political issues too, but it's not something I want to discuss often. I was so glad when she moved out. It was so frustrating to have to cringe every time you speak a sentence because you knew her next words would be, 'I know you don't like politics, but...'"
"He had no idea how to take care of himself or function as an adult at all. He lived with his rich parents before we moved in together and his bedroom was always spotless because the maid would clean it for him. On his own, he was a slovenly human being with no basic life skills - he threw candy wrappers and garbage directly onto the floor, refused to clean the bathrooms at all, and hid dirty dishes under the bed. He flooded the apartment repeatedly by putting dish soap in the dishwasher or cramming the washing machine absurdly full in an effort to wash everything he owned in one load (it was our own washer, he wasn't doing this to save quarters - it was just pure laziness). When he cooked, he would put his portion of scrambled eggs or whatever he was making onto a plate, and leave the rest of the food in the pan on high until it set off the smoke alarm.
Despite living like a small, human-sized hurricane, he was used to a spotless house and disliked mess. I would leave for work in the morning (he didn't work, mommy and daddy were paying his half of the bills so he had time to 'find himself'), and when I came home in the evening, the apartment would be a disaster and he would be loudly complaining that the place was messy and no one had cleaned it. What he really wants in life isn't a girlfriend, it's a live-in maid who pays all his bills and sleeps with him. Good luck with that."
"He lied about everything. We started out long distance as pen pals (the mid-90s, before everyone was online). After a lot of phone calls and letters, we finally met when he came to visit.
The first lie was that he looked nothing like he described. Fine, I can forgive that. We ended up getting our own place and he just kept piling up lies. He talked me into going out to California where his family lived. Here are some things he lied about:
His real name, his brother being a half-brother, his past relationships, and his family's living conditions.
And he got away with all this lying because English was his family's second language and they never spoke it at home. I was always in the dark. Even if one of them wanted to say something to me, they'd say it to him and he'd tell me. They could all speak English, but they wouldn't talk to me. It was a hard lesson. But luckily I learned it as a teenager and it taught me a lot about what red flags to look watch out for."
"A female friend of mine moved in with a guy who seemed totally normal. Then a large delivery of adult-sized diapers arrived. She stuck with it. Then he insisted on wearing them, and she stuck with it. He insisted on urinating in them and getting her to change it. She stuck with it.
She had a hip operation and couldn't get upstairs quickly enough to meet his demands and the whole thing fell down. What some people will put up with."
"There are several things I wish I'd realized, been aware of, or otherwise NOT ignored when we were dating:
She's a whiz at being responsible for things like paying bills, making sure the kids are dressed for school, making sure the kids are REGISTERED for schools, etc.
She's NOT capable of being responsible for her emotions. If she says something hurtful, it's MY fault that it hurts. If I say something hurtful, that's MY fault as well.
I either failed to realize or chose to ignore her issues with her exes, her father, and just men in general. I will admit she has plenty of valid reasons for criticisms and feeling the way she does because of her bad experiences. What I have a problem with is ME being presented with the bill for THEIR misdeeds.
Lastly, despite having a FAR more formal education than I do, she seems to SPRINT into supporting pseudo-scientific things:
Pasteurized/Homogenized milk is bad. We buy raw milk. She buys TONS of homeopathic, 'ancient' remedies and essential oils. I had no inkling she held these beliefs when we were dating. The first tip-off was when she got pregnant the first time and insisted on a midwife do the delivery instead of an OB/GYN. Ironically, she developed pre-eclampsia and spent the last three months of the pregnancy in a bed. During the actual delivery, things got quite a bit dicier than your average natural birth.
I'm happy to report everything turned out FINE, but an actual OB/GYN had to do the delivery because of what was going on, which a midwife would have been LAUGHABLY unprepared and untrained for."
"She ate her bodily fluids and pieces. She had bad eczema and she'd flake it off and eat it for breakfast. Big clump of ear wax? Snack. Nice big pimple? Lunch. Constant boogers.
She would bite off, fully chew, and consume fingernails and scabs. If it tells you what kind of person she is, she never even knew I caught her doing any of these things until I confronted her mid vomit when I saw the pimple thing. Totally oblivious to the world around her; it was just her and her body snacks.
While I don't regret having my child with her, I wish I had known these things before I full on kissed her hundreds of times."
"She couldn't handle any degree of confrontation. I'm not one for non-stop arguing, but if an argument needs to take place, then an argument needs to take place. I think it was to do with her upbringing and having a terrible father, but any time there was a degree of frustration building on my part, it just made her spiral/shutdown (with the occasional panic attack).
I tried my best to accommodate her, and, ultimately, as frustrating as it was, it was not a deal breaker for me. Unfortunately, it was for her. We'd tried couples therapy a year earlier and it had done absolute wonders for us, and I suggested we tried it again, but her mind was made up, she needed to go. She'd swept all of her issues under the rug and essentially created her own pressure cooker.
I feel bad for her, because she seems of the genuine belief that there are healthy relationships out there that function with zero confrontation, and I feel as though she's just going to keep repeating this cycle until she can come to the understanding that there are some changes she also needs to work on within herself.
Unlike her, I come from a household where, to this day, my parents still love each other very much, and I have observed them navigate the ups and downs of what a 30+ year marriage entails. All I wanted was the same with her. I miss her every day."
"We dated for a year before moving in together but I didn't know just how weird this guy was until I was with him 24/7. He was always doing really strange things, rearranging furniture while I was out, moving my stuff and not telling me where he put it, peeing in bottles and leaving them by the tv.
One time, he used foam sealant to seal the front door shut and we could only use the back door until we finally got it back open. He never made an effort to get to know my family and lied about his own father dying.
I eventually was like, okay, I'm out and moved back home. The next day, he totaled the car that was in my name and immediately went out and bought a new one. When I was living with him, he said he was broke and living off of credit cards, but he apparently had a stash of money he didn't want to tell me about. Weird dude."
"She needed constant affirmation that I loved her or else she would think I hated her.
Here was the final straw: we were laying in bed and I was trying to sleep. She just started poking me. I said: 'Babe, I need to get to sleep I have class at 8 am.' A few minutes later, she poked me again, giggling. So I looked over and jokingly went, 'Don't make me go sleep on the couch.'
She said, 'You wouldn't.'
So I smirked and said, 'Watch me.' After about five minutes, I came back, we 'made up,' and went back to bed. About 20 minutes passed and cue up the poking again. I just said, 'Oh, so we're still playing this game?' and went back to the couch. My plan was to go back in another few minutes. Well. I fell asleep.
I woke up an hour or so later and went back to the bedroom to find her missing. After saying her name and looking around, I was stumped. Then I noticed a light flickering under the closet door, where I found her with a candle, crying. I guess when I fell asleep on the couch, she thought I was mad. So I calmed her down, told her it was an accident, and we went to bed.
30 minutes later, she just blurted out, 'Why do you hate me?' That baffled me. I had just spent all weekend building her a fence, I changed her oil in her car and even changed out the plugs/belts/filters. And that evening, I had cooked her a really nice meal. The entirety of the past few days was characterized by me doing something for her every waking moment. And then she had the gall to ask me why I hated her. Because obviously all of those things I did for her with a smile on my face and love in my heart didn't happen.
After the immediately following fight, I realized she was deeply emotionally clingy. She was never a clingy person. But she needed her emotions to be coddled in a way I wasn't capable of doing. For God's sake, I was still basically a child with my own issues. Lucky me, my dorm was all paid for. All I had to do was pack my stuff and leave."
"She demanded more and more money from me. I was working and she was unemployed and soon she was spending almost everything I made. When that happened and I couldn't give her more money, she demanded that I take on another job as well because 'we needed money.'
I should add that I tried to find jobs for her and got her many interviews but she never accepted one of those jobs, instead she lied about it and said something like, 'They didn't want me' but when I talked to the manager in charge, I learned that she didn't even show up.
So I just broke up with her because how she treated me is in no way how you treat someone you actually care about."
"I discovered that she was psychologically incapable of following a recipe. We'd mostly dined out or been at my place before we moved in together (to another country where I knew nobody), so I'd never really sampled her cooking. She told me she wasn't a confident cook but I thought we were looking forward to learning together.
It turned out that the problem was that she would get halfway through making something and then decide that she had a great idea of how to improve the dish. It would be some kind of improvisation. But she wasn't an experienced enough cook to be able to do any kind of flavor matching. She'd just double the amount of something, or throw in some vinegar or nutmeg where no vinegar or nutmeg should be. Something she'd seen on a cooking show, but with different ingredients, and a different dish. She also had a habit of getting distracted and failing to pay attention to measurements, which made baking a terrifying experience.
I loved her very much and I became very good at chewing with no expression on my face at all. She'd get extremely upset if she suspected I wasn't enjoying whatever she had cooked.
But she broke us.
She found this recipe for a spinach and ricotta cannelloni. I honestly thought it would be hard to mess up short of incinerating it completely. I was wrong. The recipe made a massive amount, so she halved all the measurements. Which would have been fine. Except she didn't halve the amount of garlic.
She got mixed up and doubled it.
I love garlic, but this was a very garlic-heavy recipe when made correctly. With quadruple the amount of garlic, it actually felt like it was burning your mouth. We both managed to choke down one serving of this stuff and put the other half in the fridge for the next day. Even double cling-filmed, the smell still managed to permeate through the tetra pack and into the milk several inches away. Garlicky milk on our cereal.
She admitted that maybe it hadn't been a great dish and I gratefully double-bagged and threw the rest away."
"She was a manipulative self-harmer. We got into an argument as I was on my way out to see an old friend. She was jealous that I had made plans with him and that I wanted to spend time with him one-on-one (we were going biking, which she didn't really care for). It wasn't some particularly heated argument. I came home a couple hours later to her holding an icepack to her neck. Apparently, she was so mad at me after I left that she decided to distract herself from the anger by making a cup of tea, and then pressed the bottom of the hot tea kettle to her neck. I was pretty disturbed, as I had grown up with a mentally ill sibling who would self-harm, and had more than once opened up to her about how terrible it had been wrestling away sharp objects from my sister and having standoffs through locked bathroom doors. Going to the ER and locking up all our knives and scissors.
I tried to get over it, and love her for the good parts of her, but she instantly recognized how the incident opened up a weird door of controlling behavior for her. She could get me to agree to stuff by threatening to hurt herself, and the game of torturing me emotionally to get her way began."
"He was a cross-dresser but didn't respect women. All he was interested in was the kinky stuff but never actual face-to-face stuff. That made me feel like an object and I moved into my own room at that point.
He also had constant sulfur farts that outraged me because he knew the cause and never tried to change it. Despite him insisting that he worked super hard, he slept half the day, worked a few hours, and then stayed up half the night watching weird smut or playing video games. That was all him on Adderall. When he wasn't on Adderall, he was uninterested in anything at all. At the time, I was up at 5 am for my job, and worked/cleaned/ran errands the rest of the day until going to bed around 10 pm. This made him insist that I didn't care about him.
He constantly talked over other people and was annoyingly arrogant about everything, even when he wasn't educated on the topic. One night, after hanging out with friends and seeing them all cringe and give up talking because of how irritating he was being, I brought it up to him (privately, once we got back home). He cried and cried about how embarrassed he was and clung to me, sobbing about how he needed me to help him with these things.
It was all just such a huge turnoff that I noped out as fast as I could."
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