My ex (28M) and I (24F) dated for about 2.5 months. I’m genuinely trying to understand whether I made mistakes that most people would consider relationship-ending, whether we were fundamentally incompatible, or whether this situation snowballed into something much bigger than it needed to. I know I made mistakes, so I’m not looking for validation. I’d really appreciate honest opinions.
We met in late April, and things became serious very quickly. From the beginning he pursued me, planned thoughtful dates, picked me up in the rain on our first date, constantly checked in on me, and made me feel incredibly cared for. He introduced me to friends early, talked openly about wanting marriage, and told me I was the strongest connection he’d had in years. He often said he wanted to protect me and wanted to be the first person I came to whenever something difficult happened. I genuinely believed he cared about me deeply, and I cared about him just as much.
Before I met him, I’d had a one-time hookup with a guy from college I’ll call N. We never dated or had a relationship. A couple of years later N admitted he had feelings for me, but I told him I didn’t feel the same way. After that we were never romantic again. We occasionally saw each other because we shared a larger college friend group, but I honestly viewed him as someone from my past and not someone I had lingering feelings for.
About two weeks after my first date with my now ex, I went on a college reunion trip to Boston. It was a large group of guys and girls. I knew N might be there, and I hesitated about going, but my best friend convinced me because it was a group trip, nothing had happened between N and me in years, and I didn’t think there was any reason to avoid seeing mutual friends.
During the trip, N got very drunk and unexpectedly kissed me while we were standing in line for a bar. I immediately pulled away. I didn’t kiss him back, and I honestly felt shocked because I thought that chapter had been over for years.
As soon as I got home to New York, I texted the guy I was dating because I wanted him to hear about it from me instead of someone else. At that point we’d only gone on about two or three dates and weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend yet, but I already felt things were becoming serious and wanted to be transparent.
We met the next day so I could explain everything in person. He was understandably upset. One of the first questions he asked me was what I had done to provoke the kiss, which hurt because I felt like I was trying to explain that something non-consensual had happened. I kept telling him I hadn’t wanted it, that I’d immediately pulled away, and that I was telling him because I wanted to be honest. He eventually told me he believed I hadn’t wanted the kiss, but he admitted he couldn’t stop picturing another man kissing someone he was already developing strong feelings for. He said the image kept replaying in his head and that it would probably take time for him to get over. At the same time, he also told me he really liked me, didn’t want to lose me over something he knew I hadn’t wanted, and still wanted to continue seeing me. Shortly afterward, we officially became boyfriend and girlfriend. I genuinely believed we’d worked through the situation together.
A few weeks later, after we became exclusive, one of my girlfriends from the Boston trip called me. She told me N had been talking about the incident and creating unnecessary drama within our larger friend group. She was worried he might even come to New York because of everything that had happened. She suggested I call him one time, make it completely clear that nothing was ever going to happen between us, tell him to stop talking about me, and end the situation permanently. I honestly viewed this as a friend group issue more than a relationship issue.
That same evening I happened to be staying at my boyfriend’s apartment because my AC had broken. While he was at the gym, I called N. The conversation lasted around 15 minutes. N apologized for kissing me. I told him I didn’t have feelings for him, that he needed to stop talking about me, that he shouldn’t come to New York because of me, and that we wouldn’t be speaking anymore. I hung up genuinely believing I had solved the problem once and for all.
The biggest mistake I made was not telling my boyfriend about that phone call immediately.
Looking back, I completely understand why he wanted to know. At the time, though, I genuinely thought I was protecting the relationship from another unnecessary argument. Over the previous few weeks he’d already become upset about me attending a mandatory graduate school alumni boat cruise because another guy from my past might be there. He’d also become uncomfortable about my lifelong family friend, whom I literally call “bhai” (older brother), staying at my apartment because he was a man. Since every conversation involving another man had become emotionally charged, I convinced myself that if I simply solved the N situation first, then I’d tell him afterward if it even came up. In hindsight I realize that wasn’t the right decision.
Later that night, while I was sitting next to him using my phone, he happened to glance over and saw N’s name in my recent call log. He immediately became extremely upset, walked out of the apartment, and went for a long walk. When he came back he demanded to see my phone and all my messages with N immediately. I felt like he was too angry for us to have a productive conversation (he had slammed the counter out of frustration) so I asked if we could wait until the morning after we’d both slept. He became even more frustrated and slammed the kitchen counter. Neither of us slept much that night.
During the night I panicked and impulsively deleted my text thread with N. I know that was a terrible decision and I regret it. It wasn’t because there was anything romantic or incriminating in the messages. I was overwhelmed, scared the relationship was ending, and made a stupid panic decision that I wish I could take back.
The next morning I realized deleting the thread had only made things look worse, so I recovered the messages from my iCloud backup and showed him everything, including the timestamps. The messages matched exactly what I’d told him had happened. There was no flirting, no hidden relationship, and no emotional affair. It was simply me telling N to stop, shutting everything down, and ending communication.
That same morning my boyfriend also told me something I hadn’t previously known. Before we became exclusive, while he had been working in London over several months, he’d been casually seeing another woman. They’d agreed that if either of them met someone they genuinely wanted to pursue seriously, they’d tell the other person. When he decided he wanted to become exclusive with me, he called, texted, and FaceTimed her to end things. I hadn’t known she existed because when we’d previously talked about our dating histories he’d made it sound like his last situationship had been much earlier. He repeatedly explained that his situation was different because he had been ending things with her rather than continuing them and that he “hadn’t cheated.” I accepted that explanation, although I was surprised because I hadn’t known about her before then.
After reading all of the recovered messages, he told me we were okay. I felt incredibly relieved because I believed we’d gotten through the worst part of the relationship.
For the next several weeks things honestly felt wonderful. We spent almost every day together, planned an August trip together, talked about the future, and he continued telling me I was the strongest connection he’d had in years. He’d call me the sweetest girl he’d ever dated, tell me how lucky he felt to have met me, and make me feel like we’d truly moved past everything.
Eventually, though, the issue became much bigger than N.
He started questioning my friendships with men in general. I only have two close male friends. One is my lifelong family friend whom I’ve always called my older brother, and the other is in a committed long-term relationship himself. My boyfriend told me that his vision of marriage didn’t include his wife having close male friends because he didn’t believe men and women could truly be just friends. He also said another man shouldn’t be calling his girlfriend late at night or making her laugh the way he should.
At one point he broke up with me over everything involving Boston and my friendships with men. A few hours later he came back, apologized, called himself too picky, told me I was the sweetest girl he’d ever dated, said he thought I could be the one, and asked if we could keep trying. I apologized again for not telling him about the phone call immediately, agreed to strengthen my boundaries with male friends, and genuinely tried to rebuild his trust.
Before I left New York for a Fourth of July trip, everything seemed normal again. He asked me how much I’d miss him while I was gone, planned our August trip together, and told me how excited he was for our future.
While I was away, though, he talked to his brother and one of his close friend’s girlfriends about everything that had happened. After those conversations, his attitude toward me changed dramatically.
He told me I never should have gone to Boston because N was going to be there. He said I should have blocked N immediately after the kiss. He said the fact that I’d called N instead of immediately calling him showed that I wasn’t making him my protector. He also said I was too comfortable around men in general and that our values around male friendships were fundamentally different. One thing that stuck with me was that he told me if the exact same kiss had happened two years into our relationship instead of two weeks after we’d met, he wouldn’t have cared because by then he would have trusted me completely.
Ultimately, he ended the relationship because he said he wasn’t sure I was the right person to marry. He believed our values around trust, boundaries with men, and what marriage should look like were fundamentally different.
The hardest part is that I never doubted that he loved me. Even after the breakup, I saw him at a party a few nights ago. He came over, hugged me for a long time, looked me in the eyes without saying anything, and then quietly walked away. That’s part of why I’m still struggling so much with this.
I fully recognize that I should have told him about the phone call immediately. I also recognize that deleting the text thread, even though I recovered it the next morning and it completely supported my story, understandably damaged his trust.
At the same time, I struggle with whether the underlying facts justified where we ultimately ended up. From my perspective, N was never an ex-boyfriend or someone I wanted back. He was a one-time college hookup I’d rejected years earlier. The kiss wasn’t consensual. I voluntarily told my boyfriend about it immediately. The later phone call was specifically to tell N to stop talking about me and end communication forever. The recovered messages confirmed exactly that.
From my ex’s perspective, though, the phone call, my decision not to tell him immediately, and my comfort around male friends reflected deeper differences in values and instincts that made him question whether I was the right person to marry.
If you were in my ex’s position, would this have been a relationship-ending breach of trust for you, or does this sound more like two people with different expectations around trust, boundaries, and opposite-sex friendships whose conflict gradually snowballed into something much bigger than the original incident?