“Let me take care of you” sounds reassuring, like security, stability, and possibly even love. Those words gave me the impression that we were constructing something together. that I had at last found someone who was interested in growing up with me, sharing my burdens, and having future goals.
I was mistaken.
The trap was set long before I moved in, as I can see now. However, I didn’t recognize the warning signs until it was too late, just like a lot of people who start relationships with optimism and trust. Under the guise of generosity, what I thought was love was actually emotional manipulation, which is far more dangerous.
And the most terrifying aspect? It all began with the best of intentions.
How Everything Started: From Love to Control
I had been dating Matt for two years. We clicked almost immediately after meeting through mutual friends. He always had something to say, was funny, and was charming. He earned a good living working in technology. Even though it hardly paid my rent, I loved the meaningful work I did at a nonprofit.
Our relationship developed over time. We dreamed about the future, cooked together, and explored the city on the weekends. He would discuss having children, potential housing, and his desire to support me.
He would say, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” “Let me look after you. There will be nothing for you to be concerned about.
It was initially a relief. I was worn out from squeezing every penny and worrying about money all the time. I agreed when he proposed that we move in together and insisted on paying the rent so that I could “focus on what matters.” With gratitude. Foolish.
Everything was altered by that choice.
The Initial Day at Our New Location
I was radiant the morning we moved into our apartment. We had discovered a bright one-bedroom apartment with hardwood floors and a touch of character that made it feel like home. I took my time unpacking, setting potted plants by the windows, a thrifted painting I adored above the couch, and framed pictures of my parents on the bookshelf.
Matt was arranging his two monitors and game console. I thought he was simply excited, but it was a bit much.
I offered to get lunch from the deli down the street as a way to celebrate. The atmosphere had changed by the time I got back.
Everything was gone from the living room, including my boxes of books and pictures. Stacking them like an afterthought, I discovered them jammed into the hall closet. Matt’s possessions had taken over, including his desk, speakers, and clothing. He had even rearranged the bathroom to accommodate his colognes and shaving kit.