the never dumped
the trauma of dating a people pleaser
I wrote this last year after a bad breakup and saw that this topic is coming up again and again. This was the worst relationship I’ve ever been in but also the one where I learned probably the most and grew the most. I’m not gonna read it again cuz it might trigger psychosis BITCH lol. but here’s the story hopefully it’s helpful if you’re going through it too:
the never dumped
I recently got out of a year-long breakup. The relationship itself only lasted four months, so its death took twice as long as its life. The differences between being in a relationship or being in a break up are subtle. You’re still together, still trying to work on getting back to a better place, still falling in love deeper with each other, still hurting each other in the same exact ways over and over, and still fucking. The only difference is that you both have realized that the end is, in fact, inevitable and is going to happen pretty soon. It’s like how dying is only slightly different than living. While actively dying, people are still waking up, eating meals, exercising, watching tv, and fucking too. The only difference is that they realize death is, in fact, inevitable and is going to happen pretty soon.
Why did this thing that was only alive for four months take a year to die? Because I had been in love with a liar.
The word liar is rarely used among adults because it reads as a juvenile insult- something children accuse each other of on a playground. It’s almost cartoonish in its connotation. Pop-psychology savvy adults refer to liars as “manipulative gaslighters” or “toxic fuckboys”- terms that allude to malicious intent of deception. But the truth is most adults are liars. Most of us have to betray our human instincts to conform and succeed. Unfortunately many of us become intoxicated with the power of self betrayal, since it brings acceptance. This type of liar is called a people-pleaser.
Unlike gaslighters or fuckboys, people-pleasers are not only acceptable but almost revered in polite adult society. They are pleasant co-workers, the best restaurant servers and the most delightful people to run across at a party. They are agreeable. It is easy to fall into friendships and long-term dead-end relationships with them. But most of us feel a little off around them. Their mask of agreeability starts to slip, revealing itself as dishonesty. Problems and conflicts are difficult to confront. Friendships with people-pleasers dissolve away easily when we realize how unreliable they are. However, breaking up with them proves far more difficult.
It’s like being in a boxing match with a ghost. Try to leave and they morph and distort themselves, distorting reality itself with their agreeable lies. It becomes unclear what the truth is and who is wrong or right. Try to hit a weakness and your hand goes straight through. Try to duck a punch, but there was no punch. If there was no punch, why are you in pain? Was the ghost ever really there? Did any of these things even happen? Was any of it real? You’re unsure. But when the bell dings and it’s over, you are really there: sweaty, exhausted, and broken. But you are alone. You can’t tell if you’ve won or you’ve lost, and the truth is it’s neither and both. There is no way to win or lose a game when your opponent was never playing, if they were never there. A ghost.
A liar.
The man I was in a relationship with, whom I’ll call Greg, was a successful commercial artist I met on Hinge. The first thing I noticed from his profile was that he was bald. I don’t find bald men unattractive but I find the hiding of baldness one of the most unattractive traits. I hate any sort of hiding. Hiding is dishonesty. The dishonest bald man’s profile will have multiple hat photos, a bicycle helmet photo, a swim cap photo, followed by a photo of him graduating high school in 2002 with a full head of hair. It’s pathetic. We all know you’re bald dude.
But Greg had the honest bald man’s Hinge profile: hat photo, bald head reveal, bicycle helmet photo, hat photo, hat photo.
I decided to go on a date with him.
When I arrived at the date, he wasn’t wearing a hat. He had brought one but it sat next to him on its own chair. Later on in our relationship he told me he knew to be upfront about his baldness because multiple women had become upset when he tried to hide it on his Hinge profile. I realized Greg wasn’t an honest bald man, he was a dishonest bald man who got caught.
Even though he wasn’t wearing his liar hat, my very first impression of Greg was that he was dishonest. At first, he had the demeanor of a tech startup salesman. I felt as if he had agreed to this date because he thought he could swindle me into purchasing stock in his smart water bottle company or something. I went to the bathroom and texted my friends, “OMG my hinge date is some sort of tech guy who wants me to do an ad or something and he tricked me into thinking this is a date!!” After I got back from the bathroom, he changed personalities multiple times. I couldn’t figure out who this person was or what he wanted from me. He was struggling and flailing but I had no idea why. Looking back I think Greg was trying to read what I wanted him to be, but couldn’t figure it out because I just wanted him to be himself. The only thing I could accurately assess was that he was terrified.
Who are you?
How I remember Greg on our first date was like an old-timey TV switching from channel to channel, pausing for 2 seconds on a serious newscaster sternly delivering tonight’s top stories, then 2 seconds of a loud and vibrant cartoon duck getting hit over the head with a hammer, then 2 seconds on an infomercial for a potato peeler, and on and on. Except I wasn’t flipping the channels, he was. I wasn’t trying to find something to watch, he was trying to decide what he wanted to show. Finally he settled into a long bizarre tirade where he described all of his past relationships. He said he had only been with women who were obsessively in love with him, while he had never loved any of them. He cruelly proclaimed that he purposefully chose these women for this reason. Because if they loved him and he didn’t love them, he would always “win”. He called himself the “never dumped” which immediately brought to mind the image of Tobias Funke crying in the shower in denim shorts as a “never nude”. I chuckled to myself. Greg had major Tobias Funke vibes. Just by looking at him I could tell he had been dumped several times, possibly every time. His stature was shrunken and unsure. “Never dumped” was obviously a lie.
Sure enough, months later he revealed to me that his recent relationships basically ended because his partners didn’t want to marry him and have kids with him. Since turning 40, he had the goal of marrying and having children and none of his partners had wanted to commit to that step. Every time he revealed one of these stories, I would call out the fact that he had told me otherwise earlier. “I thought you said you were a ‘never dumped’? It sounds like you got dumped?” He would always respond to being called out for lying by looking almost relieved. He would sigh heavily and say, “Yeah. I guess I was dumped.”