Breaking up is hard to do. That is unless your ex does something that totally grosses you out.
From poor hygiene to unforgivable behavior, these Redditors share their stories of how their exes left them so disgusted they walked away without a second thought. Hold on to your barf bags and read on.
I had set hard boundaries with a guy I started seeing, saying I wanted to take things slow. A couple of dates in, we were sitting in my car eating dessert, and he tried to kiss me and put his hand on my bosom. I pushed his hand away, which he then tried to put between my legs. I pushed him away and told him he was going too far. His response blew my mind: “I’m on my best behavior. This is me going easy”!
He always pushed my boundaries, and I cut it off after a month of seeing him.
We were in one of our many arguments, and I told him I needed space, so we hadn't talked in maybe a day. Then, I got a text from a random number saying it was his sister and that he was in the hospital after a bad work accident. I asked which hospital, knowing that it was him texting me using a number app and lying about being injured. However, one never knows, and it was possibly real.
"She" told me the name of the hospital and then sent me a picture of JUST his legs, which were bruised, but they looked like his legs always looked. Then “she” said, "This is the last picture they took of him before he was life-flighted to the hospital". “She” said he had severe head trauma, a cracked skull, and his back was likely broken in several places.
So, I called the hospital and asked if they had any patients by his name. They said no. I asked if anyone had been life-flighted in the last few hours, and they said no. I blocked the number and went to sleep. But it didn't end there. A few days later, I got a text from ANOTHER random number claiming to be his brother. He sent me a selfie of him in a hospital gown in an exam room at a doctor's office.
He looked totally normal. There was no cracked skull or broken back. The text said he was in the ICU and he had just woken up from a coma! Again, I asked which hospital, and the "brother" refused to tell me, saying he'll be released within the hour, so there was no point to visit. I know it makes me sound like a bad person for not believing him, but this man lied to me on several occasions, telling me all sorts of things.
His wife had also passed away, and he told me two VERY different stories about how she lost her life, which led me to believe he might have had something to do with it. There were so many red flags, and my mentally ill self was naive and lonely at that time in my life. Granted, this was a breaking point for me, and I dove head-first into therapy and never looked back.
I dated a girl for a while who always seemed really well put together. She had nice clothes, hair, and makeup. We usually hooked up at my place, but I went to her apartment—once. The smell, when she opened the door, should’ve been enough. There were dirty diapers and overflowing trash cans in every single room of the house. But it somehow got worse.
There was a very small walkway through the mounds of dirty clothes to the bathroom. There were used paper plates on top of the mountain of dirty dishes in the sink. She proudly pointed out a moldy dish and said that it was from when she had cooked dinner for two of our mutual friends...three months prior! I noped out of there fast.
There was a guy in my social circle who I had crazy chemistry with, but nothing happened for the longest time. Then one day, we bumped into each other in the city and had a few drinks. The tension was unbearable, and we went back to his place. I had never done it casually before. I’m the sort of person that needs to be in a relationship, but the chemistry with him was so intense he was an exception.
So we got to his place. We tore off each other’s clothes. He lay me down on the bed, pulled my panties off, and saw my hoochie for the first time. Then, he breathlessly said, “Oh my God, you look like a little girl. You’re perfect”. What on earth?
My ex used to constantly say that she wanted to be “inside my skin”. It was her way of saying she desired me, I guess. It was so weird and off-putting, I asked her to stop. She couldn't understand what was so uncomfortable about what she was saying. Pretty soon after that, I went on a week-long work trip. Three days into it, the phone rang, and it was her.
She told me that the whole time I had been gone, she wanted to cheat on me. Then she asked me if she could see other people while I was away. I couldn’t believe it. I broke up with her pretty much instantaneously.
One night, my gal got super trashed at my sister-in-law's house. After spilling a second glass of red wine on my sister-in-law’s white carpet, we opted to move her glass further away from the edge of the table. As soon as we left, she started screaming. She full-fledged raged at me for "not defending her". The very next time we were together, she got plastered again and accused me of trying to cheat on her.
I've never cheated on anyone. She then threw her purse at me. I let things calm down and explained to her that I grew up in a house chock full of domestic problems, and that was an absolute line in the sand. For that reason, I was out.
He was full of excitement and showed me a box of things he'd been collecting from me without my knowledge. This included strands of my hair taped up neatly, bobby pins and hairpins I had in from prom, as well as my fingerprints and saliva sample that he took out of the trash from our forensics class experiments. He thought this was a romantic gesture or something. It completely backfired—it just made me really realize how creepy and obsessive he was.
He was also very controlling and got jealous and mad at me for hanging out with my sister, spending time on my laptop, or even with my dog. He also admitted to me that he stalked my Facebook interests to pretend he knew what I liked, then liked those things too. He researched the games I played and the music I listened to so he could bring it up in conversation. He was a total psycho.
I showered at his place after staying over, and I asked for a towel. He gave me one which had literal skin flakes on it. Obviously, I asked for a clean one, but he asked me what I meant. He did not even realize that you need to wash towels! His reasoning was you didn’t have to because "they just have water on them, so they clean themselves". Yuck!
There was this guy I had been seeing for about a month. Everything was fine, but then we got into our first “argument”. It wasn’t over anything serious, just basically a disagreement. He then decided to get hammered and show up at my house, yelling outside and banging on my door. He told me to face him like a man—I’m a woman.
Then, he blew up my phone with insults. His anger just got way out of hand too fast for something so small. I told him to no longer contact me because I felt like he was unsafe to be around. For months he tried to contact me through different social media accounts and phone numbers. Eventually, he finally gave up and ended up with a new woman. I wish I'd warned her.
They had a child together, and recently he sent to the hospital. I’m so happy I noticed the signs early of how dangerous this man was, but I feel bad for his current girlfriend with his child. Some women are more willing to take a man’s nonsense than others, I guess.
My mom passed just weeks before, and I was unbelievably exhausted and in a difficult phase of grief after a year of cancer treatments and all the fuss of being there for a cancer battle. The woman I was seeing told me that I needed to “get over it” and that I couldn't just be alone inside all the time. That was it. I never spoke to her again.
I went through my phases of grief and have been a resource to people in my life who are going through similar losses since then. She couldn’t understand that grief takes time or it doesn't and that it's different for everyone.
During my junior year in high school, I got a girlfriend for the first time. She was popular, beautiful, and out of my league. She took my virginity, and I was crazy about her. Then I started to see the REAL her. The more I got to know her on a personal level, the more I believed that she wasn’t that great of a person. Her family was beyond obnoxious, but it was a small price to pay for a lustful teenager.
About six or seven months into the relationship, I had dinner with her family at their house. She insisted her older brother tell me this hilarious story. He went on about how after gym class one day, he was left alone with a mentally handicapped student. He tied him up with a volleyball net and left him stranded in the gymnasium, screaming. The entire family was howling with laughter while listening to this. I broke up with her a couple of days later.
I was dating someone for a month, and things were going well. Then, there were a couple of weekends when the person was just acting weird and distant, but things started to get back on track. They started really pestering me about what I was going to do to celebrate my birthday. They wouldn’t listen to me at all when I said that I usually get a dessert and call it a day.
He started saying that was unacceptable and that I should celebrate the day. He planned out a whole birthday weekend getaway at a nearby location, and I actually started to get excited because it felt special. My birthday was on a Monday, and he conveniently called on Thursday to cancel. NOT to reschedule but cancel because he would be working from Friday to Tuesday.
I didn’t believe him. He had never worked on weekends before, but it was possible because he was a commercial contractor. He sent me texts over the weekend purporting to be working and sent pictures of him working for proof. However, I had my doubts, so I checked the metadata on the pictures. They were taken a year earlier, so that was the end of that! I was confused and just overall disgusted, and I couldn’t look at him in the same way again.
She was almost perfect for the first year that we dated, to the point where I considered marriage with her. Our leases were up around the same time, so we decided to move in together. Not even a month into our living together, she turned into a completely different person. She started instigating arguments over very small things, exacerbating things out of proportion, and accusing me of cheating when I'd have to work late.
She'd pack her things to "leave" but would never actually leave; she just liked the battle of me trying to talk her down. One day we were at a movie store in the mall together and I was looking at the back of a movie. Somehow, THAT set her off. She accused me of ogling the actress that was on the movie case. She stormed out of the movie store, left the mall, left me there with no ride home, and didn't answer her phone.
I got out of there as soon as I could. After I left, she texted me paragraphs of apologies, begging me to take her back or she'd take her life. She sent me pictures of her cutting herself. I had to have her number blocked. She then started stalking me at work and coming to my friend’s house that I was staying at. I ended up getting a restraining order against her.
When I saw his apartment, the smell hit me first. It smelled like dog pee and had this STRONG, wet, musty smell. I couldn't be in there without the windows open. There were piles of stuff everywhere, to the point that they were spreading to the outdoor balcony, and there were Diet Coke cans on every surface. The carpet was so dirty you could see all around the edges of the wall a little brown accumulation.
Not to mention, the dog wasn't potty trained. While the poo would get picked up, the pee was never cleaned, so it soaked into the carpet. I quickly learned that if I didn't have shoes on, I might get a wet little surprise soaking through my socks. The kitchen tile always felt tacky and greasy, and he rarely did laundry of any kind. In fact, I never once saw him do laundry except for the one time I offered to do it for him.
He even had a little gaming den. Fortunately, the dog wasn't allowed in there, but again, I could see it had never been cleaned once. There was dirt, dust, and stuff piled everywhere, along with cans and old plates of food left out. He told me once that he wanted to get a mini fridge for it, so he never had to get up. I was ADAMANT that he didn't.
I don't care if it's his place; the next step after that is peeing in bottles! It was truly shocking. He seemed so put together on the outside, and then to see how he lived was shocking, and this was AFTER "cleaning all day". Yuck! I don't know if that was more gross or his, "Women don't know what it's like to work. Women can't be trusted. Women this, women that, boohoo" comments were.
I was dating a girl when I was younger, who seemed nice and had two small cats. One weekend I went to visit her, and the cats weren’t there. I asked her where they were, and she told me they had gotten annoying, so she put them in the car and drove to an abandoned bush area, and left them. I faked an emergency at home, left, and broke up with her when I got home.
Our first date led to a make-out session, but we had been drinking, which either masked the smell of her breath or my liquid courage just made me not give it a second thought. On the second date, we ate some super spicy curries, and that dulled my senses enough, or my raging hormones got me through it, and we made it to third base. Then, on the third date, both of us just went right to my place to get busy, but her breath was really unbearable.
Her breath was so bad I couldn’t make out with her. She went down on me, and I couldn’t perform because I was so devastated by the stank of her breath. All I could think of was, “don’t vomit, don’t vomit”. She wouldn’t let me go down on her, which looking back, was probably a good thing. That was the last time we hung out.
I had a date with one girl who spent the entire time on social media. Before walking in, she took a selfie of the nice restaurant. Before we even ordered, she took a picture of the menu—then both of us then the interior of the place—then the bartender—then the bartender again. When the food came, she had to get multiple pics of the food and the bartender.
Then she ended up asking me if I didn’t mind if she went to talk to the bartender. I was waiting for an hour, and she was still talking to the bartender. So, I paid for the meal and left. I got a message from her two hours after I got home asking me where I was!
I dated a guy who said even the smell of mint would make him gag. Mint anything—ice cream, gum, toothpaste—so he didn't brush his teeth. He wouldn't listen to me when I said there were non-mint types of toothpaste on the market. After over six months together, I realized that he was just generally unhygienic and had a specific hang-up about brushing his teeth.
He told me he had memories of his mother holding him down as a child to forcefully brush his teeth because he hated mint so much. However, I have to wonder if it was always about the mint or actually the fact that the taste of mint was the most tangible part of that childhood memory.
I left my boyfriend of ten months because he would purposely scream during an argument so that people in his family would hear everything that was going on. It was his way to make me feel vulnerable and weak. In hindsight, it was so messed up. He would say things like, “Good, I want them to hear. I want them to know how psycho you are”, when I would persistently be trying to end the argument and speak in a civil manner. It was like he was having some type of temper tantrum.
When I was 18, my boyfriend asked me if I had ever attempted to seduce my stepdad, who had been in my life since I was eight. I just looked at him in bafflement and horror. When I recovered, I asked him if he had ever attempted to get busy with his adopted sister. He responded with disgust and yet still couldn't see that he had asked me something horrific.
The same dude also said he didn't think anyone could really like both genders. He believed “they're just cowards who won't properly come out". When I asked him if he had forgotten that I'm a bi woman, he smiled and said, "Nah, I'll [turn] you straight". All this was said within a month of us getting together. He's an ex for a reason.
We had gotten to the point in the relationship where he didn't mind me being in the bathroom while he used it. He was sitting on the toilet, taking a poo and he only wiped ONCE. He didn't even look at the toilet paper before he started pulling his pants up. I immediately asked what he was doing and how on earth he thought one little wipe was going to do anything.
He told me, "I've never needed more than one. Look", and he wiped again expecting nothing to be there. There was a lot there. The idea of him just carrying on with his day with poo regularly caked up in his pants painted him in a different light for me. The attraction was gone forever. Looking back, it probably should've been the person-sized pile of garbage in his room that made me reconsider, but I had further limits than most, I suppose.
About 10 years ago, I got involved with a girl who, two weeks after we started to date, presented me with an itinerary for the rest of our lives. The list included, when we were supposed to get married, where she wanted the wedding to happen, how much it should cost, how many kids she wanted to have, and when she wanted each one.
It also outlined when "we" were supposed to buy our first house and the expectation that we upgrade every five years, how my career should progress, including being in management by 30 and in a C-suite role by 45, how much I was expected to make to support her and the kids, when I was supposed to retire, etc. Suffice it to say we didn't make it to three weeks. I did buy my first house before her schedule said I should, though.
I met a really cool girl at a party. She was pretty, smart, and funny. We hit it off and had a great vibe. We jumped in her car for a ride back to her place, and I left my car behind. Her car was full of fast food garbage to the point where I couldn’t see the floorboards. Just no. The smell alone was a no. I had her drive me to my place instead and noped out of that.
I met my ex-boyfriend’s parents. His mom was quiet all the time; I never saw that woman smile even a little, and she hushed around the house like a ghost, with her head always down. His father was a jerk who was super loud and told everyone what to do, while he himself did nothing at all. When we left his parents’ house, he looked at me with bright eyes and said, "My parents have the perfect marriage."
“My mom is such a good wife! She never does anything for herself, the perfect woman! All I wish for is that you will be such a good wife to me one day". I was just like, "Nope. Nope. NOPE"! I got into my car, drove off, and never saw him again.
We were at a party with some of my closest friends. One of our friends who had recently been diagnosed with cancer was sharing some of his experience with chemo. My then-girlfriend interrupted him by saying, “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. We all probably have cancer. Moles are usually cancer. Look, I’ve probably had cancer in all these places on my arm where I had moles removed”.
There were a lot of other issues that led to it as well, but I broke up with her a few days later.
I was just so appalled by her lack of self-awareness. These were my friends who I had known for a decade, and she’d only known them for about a year. We were also in a small group of about nine people, most of whom she hadn’t even met before. It disgusted me, and I couldn’t spend the rest of my night near her. I ended it within the week.
There were several moments of disgust that should have ended it. It should’ve been the time that he fell out of the shower in our Airbnb, and he was EXTREMELY agitated with me afterward for not trying to save him from falling out. He was 6’2” and 230 lbs, whereas I was about 105 lbs and just under 5’0”. I’m not sure what I was supposed to do.
It also should’ve been when he pitched a fit and deleted the Facebook event for his 40th birthday because not enough people had enthusiastically responded to it in the three hours it was up. It also should’ve been when he booked a four-seat reservation at a theme restaurant and invited one of his close girlfriends but told her she couldn’t bring a guy and had to bring another girl.
We weren’t quite finished with our drinks when our seating time had run out. He chatted with his friend and the girl she brought while his back was to me. He didn’t even notice when I messaged him a picture of the back of his shirt because I was trying to make a point. But one moment on vacation was so repulsive, I was done.
He sneered at me for tipping too much. He told me, “You’re going to skew the economy here. This is why you live paycheck to paycheck”. The dude literally lost any glamour charm he had on him at that moment and looked like nothing more than a slimy human lizard freak after that.
This girl had about five cats, and, at one point, she let them just poo everywhere. This stuff stunk up her whole house, but she would just work and continue living like nothing was wrong. I spent three hours cleaning up the messes and vacuuming up cat hair for her to merely smile, thank me, and then just go about her day.
The breaking point was when she quit her job and started blaming me for not looking for another one. She needed therapy and somehow it was my fault, which all took up too much of her time to have enough time to go to work.
My boyfriend annoyingly turned away in bed because I was crying. I had a kidney infection and the pain was unbearable. I later had to go to the hospital for it. I don't understand how people can be annoyed by their loved one's acute pain instead of being alarmed by it. I got out of that relationship pretty quickly after that. My now boyfriend often cares more about my health than I do and tells me to go to the doctor if I have pain.
I dated a girl for about a month or two. It wasn’t going extraordinarily well, and eventually, she ended things with me—for about a week. She later came back, apologized for everything, and told me she regretted all of it. I decided I would go on another date with her and see how it went. Huge mistake. The date wasn’t going too well in my eyes, but the nail in the coffin was when she started ranting about a particular pair of pants that I had worn three weeks prior that she had felt looked too small on me.
This woman started berating me for a solid 15 minutes on the clothes that I had been wearing and talking about how embarrassed she was to go into restaurants around me, and stuff like that. I had to put up with it too because I had left all of my stuff at her place. I’m not even exaggerating when I say that. I told her straight up that if she had a problem, she could discuss it with me in a kind manner, but she didn’t.
She went on and on, it was embarrassing. I even told her this, and she kept going on. I ended things with her that night. I told her how much it bothered me, but she never apologized. We haven’t spoken since.
I was young and naive, and he was my first real boyfriend. We moved in together. It was a couple of years of me hustling, going to school in NYC, working, paying rent, and just working myself to the bone. I was waitressing and living on restaurant food and egg sandwiches, all while I watched him play video games in the corner of our living room, day in and day out.
He had a call center job for a little while until he grew tired of it. He didn't go to school, and every now and then, his poor mother would send whatever care package and money she could. I soon realized that my hustle and motivation would never change how lazy he was and how much he blamed the world for his problems. He was spoiled, blew a full-ride scholarship with laziness, and just wanted another mother to take care of him.
We got into a huge argument about his laziness and not pulling his weight and he spewed saliva in my face. I left immediately with my computer, school stuff, and some clothes. After graduation, I spent the summer with my parents in their basement just to get away and clear my head. I went back after a couple of months to collect any of my valuables, most of which were "at his cousin's house".
The apartment smelled so intensely of sour balls and garbage that my friends who came with me to help me officially move out couldn't be in the apartment. I wouldn't let them endure that. They made sure he wasn't going to do anything stupid. I collected my memorabilia and some furniture and left, never to see him again. Then, he called me on Valentine’s Day the following year.
He told me he had just woken up next to someone he didn't know and sarcastically hoped I was having a good life. Incidentally, I was at breakfast with my now husband and a few friends after a great night of hanging out, guitar sing-a-longs, and laughs.
When I was an ex-pat student with zero cash, my boyfriend, who grew up in that country, invited me to a family event and expected me to be there. That day, I would have made some essential cash at work to buy myself food. At the time, I was struggling really hard financially and trying to pay for necessities, which he knew. He still lived with his parents and didn't work or pay for tuition, rent, or anything.
Out of love for him, I didn't go to work that day to attend the family event with him and accepted the fact that I was going to lose some good cash that day. He told me he didn’t want to pick me up by car because he thought I was being stingy with my money for not traveling by train. The train ride would have been an hour and a half, including walking through an unknown village.
Taking the car would have been 20 minutes. It made me hate him. During the family event, he made a big fuss over me not agreeing with some derogatory statement. His whole family didn't know how to act and it was just the cringiest situation ever. That was our last day.
He and I had just started dating; he was going through a divorce and was low on money. I invited him up for a romantic weekend, paid for a hotel room and food, helped him with gas money, and even gave him some grocery money for the next week. It was all my treat, and I was happy to help. I didn't ask for repayment; I just asked him to get dinner or something the next time we saw each other if he could.
He had the absolute audacity to text me when he got home that I was irresponsible with cash.
Our relationship only lasted a couple of months. Immediately after we broke up, he unfriended me. We had some mutual friends, so we still commented on a few of the same posts and were cordial with each other on social media. Then he blocked me. Thankfully, we weren't seeing each other long enough for me to be emotionally invested in the relationship. I dodged a big one.
We once went to a club together, and I had shorts on because it was summer. He held my wrist, telling me how everyone was staring at my behind and how I probably enjoyed the attention. Every guy who was close to us in the club noticed the look on my face and how strongly he was holding my wrist. They looked ready to hit him if I had said a word, but I didn’t.
I didn’t want to make it even a bigger deal. When he realized that everyone was staring at us, he took me to a more private place, threw 20 euros in my face and told me to get a cab home, when he drove me there. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life.
I briefly dated a girl who never cleaned her toys. It was something I missed the first few times we were together due to bad lighting. However, once I did, it was all I could do not to wretch. I played it off as if the batteries in them were kaput. Afterward, I took a peek at the rest of her collection, and they were all the same—coated in crustiness. It wasn't a "missed spot" here or there, either.
The items had "residue" peeling and flaking off in big chunks. They looked like the walls of an abandoned house! As far as I could tell, she wasn't an otherwise dirty person either. Her place was well-kept and clean. Not only that, but every time we were together, it was clear she had just taken a shower, or we would take one together as part of our pre-game. Then again, I have anosmia and can't smell most things, so maybe she stank to bits, and I just couldn't tell.
I stayed with a guy for way too long because I loved D&D, but the way he ate is what started my disgust toward him. He hardly chewed, he'd lick his hands in public to get the last bit, and he would eat BOTH Nutter Butters at once in two bites—half in one bite, half in the other. An entire bar per bite. He would practically drink melted cheese if it was around.
He told me he ate so much once that he vomited in his friend's yard, and nothing since has grown there. He ate so much and in such a disgusting manner. Nope, nope, nope. That was a text breakup from me. Gross!
I was grossed out by how he viewed me as an object. I was young, and he played with my mind. He would pull me away from my friends to get busy with me and wouldn't stop touching me in front of everybody. He made me sit on his lap anytime we sat down together and would text me non-stop. He wasn't interested in what made me a person or in getting to know me beyond the physical.
It made me feel very used to the point that it made me physically ill once. After that, I told him I didn't want to be with him anymore. I never put myself through anything like that after either. However, it was a valuable relationship because I learned to respect myself.
I was together with this guy for about three months, and I kind of moved in with him for five days a week. He was mentally and financially unstable, but we had great chemistry, so I really wanted to give the relationship a try. I thought I could make him better, even though there were severe issues at play. I was so incredibly wrong. One day, he was in the bathroom, and I heard him shout.
I went in to check on him, and he was crying his eyes out, saying he had “worms in his poop” and that I would never want to be with him again. Okay, fine, he had worms in his poop, whatever. I had that happen to me when I was a kid. We went to the pharmacy, and they gave us a box of pills. Just take one pill, and two or three weeks later, everything is gone down there.
Five days or so later, he came out of the bathroom inconsolable with a Tupperware box harboring a piece of his poop inside, taken apart, and a deceased tiny millimeter worm on his finger. He was screaming, shouting, and crying about how he “will never recover from this and will always have worms in his [behind]”. He lay on the floor, in the buff, crying while the Tupperware box was next to him containing the smeared poo.
I just remember seeing the scene play out before me, in total disbelief, trying to disassociate and just thinking to myself how I needed to get out of this situation. I tried to comfort him and tried to have a normal evening, but in my head, the relationship was gone from that point on. A week later, I ended the relationship, telling him I just didn’t feel it anymore. I never actually told him that was the moment that defined the outcome.
I was staying at his place during summer vacation, 700 km (435 mi) away from the town where I was studying. A few things happened during that vacation. He asked me not to bring my laptop so I couldn’t Skype with other people, especially the “guys in the dorm”. It was a small dorm, with both guys and girls, and we wouldn’t usually Skype. We would always just meet in the kitchen and the common room.
We never even had much to talk about except for the usual “how was your day”? I didn’t bring my laptop, and there I was, watching YouTube on his computer, and a message popped into his Facebook feed. A friend of his was sending him some racy videos. I chuckled. Then, I saw the lewd video he shared with said friend. I wish I could forget what I saw. It was dangerous, harmful, and dark.
I said, “Ok, he was always a bit messed up, so maybe that’s what turns him on in that world”. Three days later, he called me from work, asked me to look in a drawer for some papers he needed that he had forgotten at home, and said he would come to pick them up. I checked the drawer, and there were no papers or anything like it.
I checked the other two drawers, and I stumbled upon a gun. We were in Japan, and he was Japanese. It’s highly unlikely to get something like that if you’re not a law enforcement officer or a hunter. He was neither. He came home, and I asked him about it. He laughed and said, “Yeah. I got it from my grandpa after he passed. I use it to blast the seagulls if they come too close to the porch”.
I genuinely wanted to pack my things the very next day and go back to my dorm. There were too many red flags already, but he talked me out of it. A few days later, we went on a road trip with some friends to another seaside town roughly a seven-hour drive from his place. On our way back, it was around 2 AM, he was tired, and we were on a winding road.
I thought it wasn’t safe for him to drive in that state, so I suggested we go to a hotel. He said he could make it. Twenty minutes later, he was getting a panic attack—a monster panic attack. He never had one before, and I didn’t know what to expect. As a person who also has some personal experience with panic attacks, I tried to talk him out of it, being there, trying to make him breathe through the nose, etc., the usual stuff.
It wasn’t working. My dude was freaking out. He started yelling and punching the wheel, saying, “No, you can’t understand, I left my pills at home, and it’s not gonna go away just because you talk to me”. I found out he was on some heavy treatment for a psychotic break he had a few years ago. He stopped the car in the middle of the winding road.
Cars from the opposite lane were honking and trying to avoid us. He told me to take the wheel. I DID NOT have a driver’s license in Japan. It was almost 3 AM, and I had some drinks at dinner because I was just a passenger. Plus, I hadn’t driven in eight years. However, I realized it was much more dangerous to wait there in the middle of the road.
Calling the authorities was also not an option because he didn’t have his phone with him, and my battery had been drained since the morning. He then fell asleep. I mean, DEEP ASLEEP. I’d shake him and shake him, and he just wouldn’t budge. So, I drove us to the nearest gas station, got a map and instructions to the nearest hotel, and barely got there.
Just when I drove up, he woke up and said, “Heeeeeey, are we home yet”? I rolled my eyes while at the reception desk. He was not able to write down his name or remember his PIN. So, I checked us in under my name and paid roughly $200, which came out of my $1,200 scholarship for living in Japan. When we got into the room, he wanted to get busy.
He was desperate about it—begging for it. I said I needed to sleep, and he never stopped complaining about it, even the next morning. Two days later, I got back to my dorm and broke up with him via text. He traveled all the way to my town and waited in front of the dorm, threatening that he’ll off me and off himself if we didn’t make up. I had to call the dorm administration and the authorities to have him removed. It turned out he had brought the piece with him too.
I met a girl in a nice bar and started dating her. She was funny, smart, and cute. She said she sold Mary Kay cosmetics for a living, which I didn't know much about, but I'd heard that it was an MLM company similar to Herbalife. Whatever, she seemed to do okay with it. She dressed decently and drove a late-model car. On about our fourth or fifth date, she invited me over to her place.
I asked to use the bathroom, and I saw all these affirmations, rah-rah slogans, and sales-type mottos taped around the edges of the mirror. She also had a picture of a pink Mary Kay Cadillac taped up on the wall of her bedroom and a closet full of MK cosmetic products. She told me she recited a few of the slogans every morning while looking in the mirror, and the Cadillac was a personal goal.
The more I got to know her, the more it seemed that Mary Kay consumed her life. I noticed she saw every woman we ran into as a potential sales target. I got very uncomfortable with this, so I ended up breaking up with her. It was too bad. She was smart and funny but a little too sales-oriented for my taste.
I dated a girl VERY briefly in college. After our third date, she wanted to sleep with me. We went to a Thai place neither of us had been to before. Well, we were in the middle of doing it when suddenly she told me to get off of her in a panic. Before I could react, she had diarrhea all over the bed, my thighs, and herself. I was so grossed out I instantly vomited all over her and that, of course, made her vomit.
Then we both ran to the bathroom and had to use the toilet. She got there first, so I started spraying liquid poo into the bathtub. We were both dry heaving and crying the whole time. Eventually, the storm passed, and we showered and cleaned everything up while barely saying a word to each other. We tried to sleep with each other again, but neither of us could do it. We had grossed each other out so badly; it was all we could think of. We still remained friends but never spoke about that night again.
I loved watching tons of movies. Not in a snobby way, just in a popcorn-munching, happy way. One of my absolute favorite comedies is The Birdcage remake with Robin Williams, Nathan Lane, and Hank Azaria. It was filmed right around where I was born. So I went to toss it on, and she straight-up refused because it is primarily a movie with gay people.
This turned into a rant about the sanctity of marriage and led to how being gay was against her religion. I found out later, her religion was her family church, along with a lot of other eye-opening admissions from someone I had been dating for a year. I like to think I'm not an overly sensitive individual, so when someone makes me uncomfortable, it has always been my rule to get them out of there.
We did not watch the movie, had some fun playing cards, and then the next day, I politely broke up. Of course, I went and watched my movie afterward because it is great. I had no idea I had been dabbling in crazy for that long.
It was New Year’s Eve 2016. My then-fiance, his brother, and I were meeting up with some friends, and all of us were going to walk to a ball drop in our neighborhood. He had trouble walking due to a self-inflicted spinal cord injury. He had jumped off a building 18 months prior while blackout smashed and refused to ever acknowledge it or get therapy for it.
I handled all his doctor visits and physical therapy, lied to his parents for him, and supported him all through his recovery, not just physically but emotionally and psychologically too. He often lashed out at me, and some of our arguments had gotten physical, but I loved him so much that I just tried to be more patient and loving every time.
New Year’s Eve was one of my favorite holidays at the time. I was really looking forward to the ball drop. We were running late, and it was getting close to midnigh, and we were still a few blocks away. I asked him if he would be okay if I walked ahead to join our friends, and he said, “Yeah, that's fine”. His brother hung back with him, so it's not like I was leaving him alone.
About 30 minutes after the ball dropped, everyone was trashed. I was having an amazing time in the crowd, and I ran into one of our friends, who told me that my boyfriend was in an ambulance. In the 45-minute period when I wasn't with my ex, he thought a woman driving a car by him was making fun of him, so he shattered a bottle on her windshield.
It turned out, there were also two men in the car, and they jumped out and beat him and his brother up. It was really brutal. My ex was treating this all like a joke, laughing at his black eyes and broken nose. I took pictures of him and his brother in case we needed it for evidence later, and my ex gave me a giant thumbs-up with blood pouring down his face.
I was so sad and exhausted, and so tired of the chaos, but yet again, I was trying to hide it so I could be supportive of him. We got to the ER and he started arguing with the doctors because they wanted to do a CAT scan to check for brain damage. I tried to very gently convince him to let the doctors treat him, and he looked me right in the eyes and said, "This is your fault, for not being there to stop me. You walked ahead".
We didn't break up for another nine miserable months, but I think something shifted inside me that night. I realized I couldn't leave my 27-year-old fiance unattended for 45 minutes, and that he also held me accountable for his every behavior, like I was supposed to be his mom or something. He was a grown man demanding I both sleep with him and parent him constantly.
My ex-wife became a heavy drinker for the last quarter of our relationship. We hadn't been perfect before that, but things went downhill quickly once she hit the bottle. She chased me around with a knife a few times, had an affair, and lied about everything, which was what we officially ended it over. The moment I think I stopped being attracted to her came a few months before that.
We had a friend over who wanted to watch The SpongeBob Movie because I'd never seen it before. They rented it, got us snacks, and came over. My ex was already trashed but got even more sloshed once our company was there because now she "had to" socially drink a few rounds. She got way too hammered and went to the bathroom just as we started the movie.
Ten to 15 minutes went by, and our friend asked me to check on her. She was lying in her own vomit on the floor. I got her up, and she was not at all bothered by it. I got her undressed and unwillingly into the tub, at which point she was adamant she could handle it. I went back to the movie, and came back 10 minutes later, and she was sitting in the tub taking a bubble bath, with chunks of barf floating around her.
I drained the tub while she was protesting. She was mad that I ruined her bath and started filling up the tub for round two. I left again. In another 10 minutes, I checked on her again. She was once again sitting in a tub full of puke, marinating in her own juices. I went to clean her up for the third time, and she started screaming at me to mind my own business.
She told me that she was an adult, and she could take a bath if she wanted. I decided then to just let her have it. I kept trying for a few more months, but it was all downhill from there and I think that's where my love for her kind of ended.
It was my very first date after leaving my ex-husband, who was also my first boyfriend. We had a coffee, and he seemed okay, so we decided to see a movie and went to watch The Ring. He talked the whole way through at almost full volume. There is this part near the end of the movie where it’s sort of wrapping up, and you think it’s over, but it’s not quite there.
I went to the bathroom at that time and I was so close to not going back, but I really wanted to see the end. I went back, and he kept talking. The movie finished, and this guy wanted to “continue the party”. I whipped out a, “Yeah, thanks, but I need to go home and sleep; it’s late”.
Then I left, went home, and deleted the guy from all contact. I don’t like movie talkers.
She would play with her food. For example, when she was "on a diet", she would go buy a slice of pizza or a burger or something, and just mush it up in her hands, then throw it out. It was really bizarre. I was also pretty disgusted when I walked in on her doing the deed with a co-worker on the bed I had bought for us.
My ex was gaining an unhealthy amount of weight, so I told him that I was worried about his health. He ignored me and continued to gain weight. To my knowledge, he now weighs about 170 kg (370 lbs). I don't mind a bit of chub, I actually prefer it, but that was too much. He also once choked me while I was driving, and we were having an argument, ironically, about how poorly he'd been treating me.
He regretted it the instant I pulled over and threw his stupid fat behind out of the car, knowing he didn't have any money for an Uber or a cab. This was during the Australian summer, so it was not a pleasant day.
The first night I slept at my ex’s apartment, I woke up in the middle of the night to an extremely loud scraping noise. It was inside my ear. A roach had crawled into my ear and was scraping against my ear drums with its legs, antennas, or whatever. It was the most awful feeling I’ve ever experienced. I used tweezers to try to get it out.
However, when I pulled the tweezers out a few times, only half the roach came out. I had to go to the ER to get the rest out and get antibiotics. I had a horrible ear infection for a couple of weeks. The worst part was her saying, “It happens to my son all the time”. Like what?! I found out she had wrappers and trash under her bed.
The experience has literally haunted me and given me PTSD. When I’m sleeping, if I hear the slightest noise, I jump up and swat uncontrollably around my head and ears. My wife was shocked the first time I did it when we were dating, but since I told her what had happened, she fully understands.
I went away with my ex and saw his toothbrush for the first time. It had black stuff growing on it, and the bristles were so flat the toothbrush had a middle parting. It wasn’t charcoal toothpaste—it was mold! I had a conversation with him about hygiene and told him to get a new toothbrush. But when I stayed at his house two weeks later, the cursed toothbrush was still there, so I ended it.
I was on a girls’ trip to a festival that I had booked months in advance. He showed up there and brought one of the other boyfriends with him. I hated it, but I couldn’t do anything other than just accept his arrival. Later on, he kept showing up at things unannounced. At my internship abroad, he showed up, forcing my roommate to leave.
I was at a one-on-one dinner with my dad, and he showed up there too. I moved out because I needed space, and he booked a trip we couldn’t cancel. I finally broke up with him afterward, but that didn’t stop him. He kept showing up at my hometown and even work. Years later, when I got married, he texted me, “Congratulations”, but all I could feel was anxiety about his control issues.
I was on Facetime with my boyfriend while my mother, my brother, and I were at an Airbnb that we rented in Colorado. I told him I wanted to go and make some food with my brother, and he told me to take him with me while on the phone. I reluctantly did. He was being really freaking quiet, so I thought the phone had hung up, until my brother said, "Ew! What the [heck]".
I turned around and saw my boyfriend pleasuring himself on the phone. I hung it up, called my friend, told him about all of it, and left my boyfriend within the next week. Now I'm happy with someone who respects me and my family and has the decency to do that stuff on his own time, and not with my brother present.
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