Bad Things Come In Small Packages

It’s been a little while since I’ve taken you back, mainly because I have already told you nearly all of my man related stories (the interesting ones anyway), so I think it’s time for a little TBT to the last man I spent a Valentine’s Day with……

In December 2015 I was added on Insta by a man with a really nice face. Both our pages were private but I could see that we had a friend in common and when I accepted his request I was excited to see that he was just my type. Bailey was 30, he lived in Highbury and owned a successful business, had his own home, and generally seemed like a sorted genuine very single happy-go-lucky kind of lad, and he was a house raver and weed smoker like I was at the time (which made me think we had a lot in common because these were the days when I just wanted to be loved and so I scraped the barrel looking for something to connect me to a man). I really fancied Bailey from his Instagram and we soon got talking on WhatsApp. Bailey was funny, we exchanged lots of voice notes and he really made me laugh. We spoke daily for a whole month before we met in person and he became more and more attractive to me every day – apart from when he would randomly send me topless pictures of himself.

Bailey was a good-looking guy – mixed race (St Lucian and Swedish), very nice face, high cheek bones and a masculine jaw line, with an amazingly gym carved body. In every picture he sent me he was really oily, although he might have been wet actually – bit of a post shower ‘sexy’ selfie, but he looked greasy like he’d smothered himself in baby oil for the occasion. He’d always have his hand on the back of his head flexing his chest and arm muscles while looking intensely into the camera and biting his lip. It was incredibly homo-erotic. The only place I’ve seen anything similar is in gay porn magazines. When he first surprised me with his Broke Back Mountain re-creation I was like ‘ohhhhh no he didn’t’, but I didn’t have the heart to say “Yo, you are literally going to give me the ick if you do that again” because I knew how I would feel if I sent a man a very carefully posed selfie to entice him and he replied telling me it was putting him off.  I would actually be quite traumatised. So I replied with heart eyes and then steered the conversation on quickly. This was not the best strategy though because this meant that I began getting weekly lubed up homo-erotic topless pictures, and this was before we had even met.

After the 5th offering I finally snapped and said “I’m not really into topless pics, they don’t do it for me. You look amazing but it’s not my thing”, which isn’t strictly true, but his ones were just horrendous. He was a bit taken a-back and slightly offended but we got through it. His personality and handsome face were enough for me to override the trauma of the oil paintings, but I was very happy when they ceased. So after a month of really consistent, attentive, fun messaging we finally arranged to meet. He came to pick me up near mine (for the record this is a terrible idea, you should not get into cars with men you’ve never met but this was back in my dumber days) and I was pleasantly surprised by his extremely nice car. It was a big shiny Black BMW and it really suited him. It was luxurious inside and it made me feel sexy. The car was filled with the lovely aroma of his aftershave, he was hot and I fancied him ten times more in person. We headed to an American Diner type place which was about a 20 minute drive away. We laughed and joked in the car and I was just feeling all sparky and yaaaaaaay inside, the butterflies were going off.

We parked up outside the restaurant and Bailey got out of the car, I got out slightly after him, shut my door and looked around but I couldn’t see him anywhere. I called out for him and he replied “Sorry left my wallet in the car” – his car door slammed and then he walked around to meet me and it was at this point that I realised that the reason he had become briefly invisible was because he was approximately 5ft 2″ and was unable to see over the top of his vehicle. I am 5ft 3 but I was in heeled boots so I could see over the car roof. This was a major shock to me because he had told me that he was 5ft 9″ – he should have added “In platform heels”. I feel like a horrible person for being put off by his height but I was. I like tall men, there is nothing at all wrong with short men, but I like them tall and that’s just how it is. 5 ft 9″ was even a bit of a push for me but 5ft 2″ was taking the fucking biscuit. The other thing with Bailey was that he was quite hench and so he looked as wide as he was tall; and also his head was unusually large. He looked like a mixed race Danny Devito on steroids.

We walked into the restaurant like Mother and child and the waitress asked if we wanted a high chair. Sorry that’s a lie and a bit of a mean joke, but I can’t help it, if you’re going to get offended by short jokes turn away now. Anyway, as he sat swinging his legs, I began to forget about the fact that my date was fun sized because we were having such a good time. He had buckets of confidence and he oozed sex appeal. Bailey really had something about him. We flirted and I was relaxed in his company and so when he asked if he could come in for a coffee and a spliff after dropping me home I was totally up for it, but not without putting a very clear disclaimer on it so that he knew that he was coming in for actual coffee and not coitus and coffee. We chatted and laughed and after 4 hours in his company I began to really fancy him. As the night drew to a close and I started yawning he said to me “Do you give me permission to do something that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing all night?” – by this point I was heavily in lust with the little pocket rocket and so I said yes. He kissed me on the lips and then proceeded to make his way down, I let him pull my trousers off and he began to circle his tongue around exactly the right places. I started to lose myself in this unexpected oral extravaganza but I came to my senses within about a minute and I asked him to stop.

I liked him and I wanted this to become something, I did not want to ruin it by going down the sexual route too soon and I told him this. He told me that there was no way this could get ruined, he told me he was very much on it and that he wanted to see where things might go but he also agreed that there was no rush. He left and I went to bed feeling all light-headed and excited like YASSSSSSSSSSSSS…..I did not expect my future Husband to be 2 ft tall but fuck it, it would mean I could wear flats to the wedding which would be far more comfortable. The following morning I woke up to a lovely good morning message and I was just full of butterflies and excitement knowing that this was to be the start of something that might really go somewhere. I was sure that he felt the same.

We were in contact regularly throughout the days that followed, the conversation had become quite sexual by this point but I didn’t see that as a red flag because it wasn’t only sexual and I was quite enjoying it so I let it slide. We had our second date about a week later, this time we went for Tapas. I was so looking forward to seeing him but I think I had kind of forgotten what he really looked like, because once again I felt a little shocked when he got out the car, I had to adjust and get used to it and remind myself that it’s not about looks, it’s about how someone makes you feel; but he made that slightly hard because this time he was wearing a very ‘interesting’ Moschino jacket. It was silvery blue with paw prints all over it and it was made out of shiny plastic material. It was very tight and he had it buttoned up all the way to his chin. He looked like a circumcised penis in a flavoured condom. I got over it as soon as we sat down to eat though, he was making me laugh and he made me feel amazing. I felt like an absolute queen in his company. We spoke about our love lives and I truthfully told him that there was nobody else on the scene. He told me the same, he said that he hadn’t had sex in ages as he had been so busy with work he just did not have time for women. He explained that he wasn’t on any dating apps and that he wasn’t talking to anyone else. I had no reason not to believe him – he was available, attentive, and his social media didn’t raise any concerns.

Two weeks later it was Valentine’s Day, and even though we had been talking daily we hadn’t seen each other in a fortnight due to my childcare and his work, and as such we had not become anything yet. I posted a meme about being lonely on Valentine’s night with the sole purpose of attracting his attention and it worked. He commented underneath that he was disappointed that I hadn’t planned a date with him and I was gassed beyond belief. We spoke on the phone and he told me that he had a big job on that day and that he wouldn’t be home until after 9pm but he suggested that I come to his for a film and a take away and he told me that it would be nice if I stayed over. It meant absolutely everything to me that we were going to spend Valentine’s night together. It confirmed for me that there were no other women in the picture, that he liked me, and that we were definitely becoming something. I just wanted to be someone’s girlfriend. In my mind at that time having a boyfriend was the answer to my problems. I believed that a man would offer me emotional security and would give me confidence. I did not realise that I had to find that in myself first.

It was the first time I had been to his house and I was impressed. It was a lovely little place done up to a high spec but I was mostly impressed by the array of crystals he had on his mantle piece. I loved the fact that he was spiritual and it made me feel safer, I was not yet au fait with the spiritual fuckboy and I thought his crystal loving energy would mean that he was averse to being a dickhead, but I was a dickhead back then. Anyway, the night was going well, we ordered pizzas and as I lay on his hard chest watching a film his phone started ringing. I didn’t see the name that flashed up but I could hear that it was a woman, I could also hear that he rapidly turned down the volume of the call. I arched my ear towards his face so that I could hear what she was saying but he noticed this and stood up. He wasn’t saying much – mainly umms, ahhs, yesses and no’s. I was highly suspicious of this call so when it had finished I asked him who it was and he said it was some girl who his friend was seeing. I asked why she was calling him and he said that she was friends with all the lads and she wanted to know if he could get any weed. I didn’t think that there was any point in pursuing it. Another thing that I found a bit suspect was that he had women’s products in his bathroom. Some shampoo and conditioner – which he did not need for his bald head and some make up remover. I raised this with him when I returned to the living room and he laughed and said that they belonged to his ex (who was crazy apparently – I know, I know). He told me that I could throw them away if I didn’t believe him, he said that he just hadn’t got around to doing it. I was very suspicious but he was very convincing and so I didn’t make a big thing out of it. Especially because a few minutes later his friend called and Bailey uttered the butterfly inducing words “I’m just with the Mrs mate” WAAAAAAAHAHHHHHAHAHA. I was on cloud nine.

So of course, now that I had been elevated to “girlfriend’ status by that one comment I was absolutely up for having sex with him. We made our way to his bedroom and I was shocked to discover that God had made a huge mistake with penis allocation on the day that he was born and had accidentally provided Bailey with the willy of a 6ft 5” man. It was so long that I am surprised that his helmet didn’t drag along the floor as he walked. His legs were only 30 inches long and his dick was about 25. Maybe I am exaggerating a little bit, measurements have never been my strong point but you get the idea – it was long. It was also thick and very good-looking. He could have been a porn star with that thing. I wasn’t expecting it. We had a lovely time, several lovely times in fact, Bailey was good in bed, but to be honest it was a bit much for me because I am not into big willies but I’m not into short men either so Bailey was really breaking all boundaries. I stayed over at his and he held me as we went to sleep, I drifted off happy and content in my new man’s arms. My blissful sleep did not last long though as within about 20 minutes I was rudely awoken by the most incredible sound coming out of Bailey’s mouth. It sounded like a boat that was announcing its departure from the docks – literally HUUURRRRRRNNNMMPPPPHHH PEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWW up and down over and over again. Like a saxophone crossed with a boat crossed with a lorry blasting out on a loud-speaker. I had never heard snoring like this in my life and I was absolutely terrified.

I am one of those people who needs silence and darkness to fall asleep. I can’t fall asleep on Airplanes, on chairs at parties, or on my sofa with the TV on, and I certainly cannot fall asleep with the sound of the Titanic’s foghorn blasting in my ears. I tried to wake him but it wasn’t happening and every time I nudged him he would do that ‘Hurrunmphhh prumpnhhh’ kind of thing and then stop for 10 seconds and I’d be like YAAAAAY and then BOOM back to square one. I lay there wide awake wondering why I was being punished in this way until I eventually managed to doze off. I think I had 45 minutes sleep that night but I woke up feeling fresh and excited in the way that you do when you are buzzing off a man. We both had work and so we parted early with a kiss and a promise to speak in a bit.

But we didn’t….he didn’t message me… was me who had sent the last WhatsApp the night before to say I was outside so I felt as though it was his turn….I didn’t start worrying until 2pm. I had been watching his WhatsApp activity all morning (because I was a psychotic cringe bag who became infatuated with men and obsessed with the fact that they might abandon me) and I could see that he’d been on and off all day. By 5pm I had messaged the group WhatsApp to ask them what I should do and they unanimously agreed that I was being a massive dick and that because he had entertained me at his house last night it was very impolite of me not to have contacted him to say thank you.

This made total sense to me, you know when you really want to contact someone but you don’t want to appear keen and then your friends give you that confidence boost like “FUCK it babe you are being ridiculous, he called you his Mrs, just message him” – once your friends give you permission it’s like fuck yeahhhhh they are right! And so I sent him a message thanking him and in return he gave me lots of sexual compliments and then mid conversation after I sent the last message he just stopped. It’s a few years ago now so I can’t remember exactly what the conversation was but it was something where he didn’t exactly need to reply but the fact that he didn’t had killed the conversation dead. And because we had now had sex I was massively over thinking everything and so this became quite a stressful thing. Prior to this I hadn’t even thought about it, our messaging flowed and I wasn’t being weird about it at all. Now I had gone into massive weirdo mode and I genuinely believe that the weirdo energy gets projected out into the Universe and that they feel it. Sometimes I think it’s our anxiety that fucks things up, not their communication. But anyway, it felt different, and this continued for a few days, I could feel a shift in the conversation and I did not like it. He had called me his Mrs and now we were barely speaking and I did not know what to do.

I don’t know if any of you have experienced this and I don’t quite know how to describe it correctly but there is this feeling that comes with not knowing if you are about to be ghosted. It kind of makes you a bit tight chested, it takes over your mind – no matter how much you tell yourself to stop thinking about it it’s like you can’t help but check their WhatsApp (and if you see that they are online you have to jump out quickly in case they suddenly send something and they get blue ticks straight away and realise that you were sitting in their chat), and their insta, and their Snapchat on a rotation wondering what the fuck is going on. You try to concentrate on work or whatever but you just can’t shake the thoughts from your mind. My biggest failure in this kind of scenario was that instead of just thinking ‘This guy is a dick, I can do better, it’s really not that big of a deal’ I’d be tormenting myself with thoughts that I had fucked up somewhere along the line and that I needed to repair things, so instead of just backing off (which might have actually served to make them more interested again) I would begin initiating conversation and posting endlessly on social media to get their attention. I would go full on with my ‘sexy mama with wifey skills’ Snapchat showcase in an attempt to make them realise what they were about to miss out on. I did not realise that they can’t miss anything if it’s in their face all day long. I am so glad that I learned how to chill out.

But anyway, this is a few years ago and I was very unchilled and so instead of just moving on or stepping back I would initiate contact with Bailey most days and he was always happy to hear from me, always giving me compliments and calling me his baby, always talking about sexual stuff and sending dick pics (solicited), and he was always engaging in a conversation when I would start one, but what he wasn’t doing was being available. Suddenly his work schedule had really increased and he was busy until late at night, he made me believe that he really wanted to see me but he was just completely snowed under for a while and so the next scheduled date wasn’t for another 2 weekends.

We met up again for our 4th date, but this time it wasn’t a date, it was just me going to his house once he had finished work. I remember finding a long blonde hair on his sofa, I questioned him about it and he said that it was his Mum’s and I believed him. It sounds horrible, but Bailey was too short and ugly to have options and so I was not suspicious about other women at all, and I was pretty sure that he must be quite grateful to have me and so my ego convinced me that things were OK.  The sex was great with Bailey, but this time I noticed that every time he climaxed he would squeal like a pig, he was a bit breathy because of all the weed smoking and at the point of cumming he would make this intense wheezy squeaky noise that was very disturbing, but I liked him and so it didn’t put me off. Sleeping at his was an absolute myth because of his snoring problem but I tried nonetheless because I wanted to be held by him all night. I was less tolerant this time than I had been the first time though, and by the 6th ‘date’ (me going to his house for sex) I was completely intolerant and I had got to the point where I was actually punching and elbowing him to make him shut the fuck up – it never worked. I do not know what was wrong with me. I do not know why I had emotionally latched on to this tiny little wide man with a worryingly huge head who made bizarre noises in the bedroom but I had. I really, really liked him and I felt as though if I just kept it consistent and showed him that I was there for him then he would go back to how he was at the beginning and we would live happily ever after. I had a lot to learn and he was to be one of my biggest learning curves.

One night we went out for dinner and I invited him to stay at mine after, at the time I was staying at my Mum’s and she had gone on holiday. It was nice to have him at mine and he seemed to be more attentive again. In the morning I made him a cooked breakfast while he slept, I was keen to impress him and so I made the full works. I called him down to the kitchen and we sat together eating my spectacular munch when he started complaining about a smell. I was a bit offended because I knew that my food was on point. As I got up to get some pepper I looked over to him and with great horror I realised that my Mum’s dog had done the biggest shit of all time under the kitchen table directly where Bailey was sitting. I was fucking mortified. My Mum’s dog was old and well house trained, he was not a shitty dog, in fact, to my knowledge he had never ever shat in the house before. He was clearly saving his poo show for the worst possible time that he could ever do it. I didn’t want to tell Bailey that he was sat eating over a big shit but I also didn’t want him to accidentally dip his socked toe into it and so I had to inform him. Bailey was not an animal person and he did not see the funny side (tbh there really was no funny side but by this point if I didn’t laugh I would have cried). He started dry wretching and he abandoned his breakfast and ran out the room. It was pretty awkward and he left not long after that.

So by this point it was around the beginning of April and we were basically seeing each other – and although I was not stupid enough to think that he was my boyfriend I did believe that we were exclusively seeing each other because he told me that I was the only person he was sleeping with on a regular basis. It was very much a no labels fuckboy situation at this stage. I had strong feelings for him and I convinced myself that he had feelings for me. I was happy to be seeing him in which ever capacity he dictated. When we started having unprotected sex, which I was quite paranoid about, I remember him reassuring me by holding my face and saying ‘Baby, I promise that I will always keep you safe”and I believed that. He was very clear that there was nobody else, so when this woman named “Baywatchbaby_belindaxxx” appeared out of nowhere and started commenting flirtatiously on all of his Instagram pictures I was highly suspicious. I know I’m not supposed to cuss other women, especially ones who have done nothing wrong, I bang on about it all the time, but for the purposes of this blog I’m going to be honest with you about what went through my mind when I first saw her page.

Luckily for me she had an open page and I went through it with a fine toothed comb to establish exactly when they had started following each other based on when he first liked one of her pictures. This girl was a horror. I described someone as the human version of chlamydia in previous blog – well this chick was more like leprosy. Her name should have been Crimewatch Belinda not Baywatch Belinda. She was white with bleached blonde hair, so bleached that it had begun to look like candy floss – frizzy and dry and she wore it in a huge beehive but it didn’t give her that classy retro Amy Winehouse look – she looked like Bet Lynch from Coronation Street. She might well have been a lovely person, but when I noticed that they’d had an exchange of comments on one of her pictures and that she had @ him saying “You are not being a great boyfriend now are ya babes” I was fully raging. I wanted to kill her (I know, I know – she has no loyalty to me and probably had no idea about me ….. you don’t need to tell me… I have progressed since then). My heart was pumping and I was shaky, I rang him straight away and asked what the hell was going on and he acted like I was the biggest idiot in the world. He questioned why I was stalking her page and I explained that she was commenting all over his, he pointed out that she wasn’t exactly a looker and that he would never stoop that low. He said that she was just some random who had followed him and he had humoured her with a bit of banter, he convinced me that they had never even exchanged numbers. He told me that I was stressing him out by talking about it and quite frankly I didn’t want to mess things up. There was no point in going on about it because he was point-blank denying it and because HE suggested that I message her to ask, it made me not bother messaging her, but I became very paranoid and quite obsessed with her. I checked her page constantly. I was not entirely convinced of his innocence but I dropped the matter.

The next time that we saw each other we had both been out, he had been at a wedding all day/night, and I had been out for a friend’s birthday. He called me at around 1am and told me he wanted to see me, I was in West London and I had no money but he was very drunk and very insistent and so he managed to persuade me by offering to pay for my cab there and back. When I arrived at his he had just got home, he was with one of his mates and they were both in their wedding clothes sniffing coke off his kitchen counter. Bailey was in a lairy mood, he was being cocky in front of his friend and making sexually suggestive comments about me in a ‘laddish’ way that I was uncomfortable with. I had never seen him that fucked before, he was very very drunk and very coked up and he was acting like a total dick. His friend was more sober than he was and he seemed a bit embarrassed by Bailey’s antics. I was drunk, but he was in such a state that there was absolutely no point in me being there, he could barely string a sentence together. His friend kept apologising on his behalf and he kept having a go at his friend for apologising. The friend left and I was alone with Bailey. I was sat in his kitchen rolling a joint and he went off to his bedroom – I wanted to chill and smoke before getting in to bed but he was shouting at me from his bedroom to hurry up. I told him I’d be 5 minutes but he just kept shouting “LAAAAAYYYYLAAAAA FOR FUCKS SAKE GET IN HERE NOW”. I told him that I wanted to finish my spliff and he shouted that I should bring it in to his room, he was always really strict about not smoking in his bedroom so I was a bit tentative but I could not take his incessant screaming any longer and so I obliged.

I put the ashtray down on a shelf in his room and stood smoking while I took my make up off with a baby wipe. Bailey was naked in his bed grunting at me “Get in the bed now”, I told him to wait but he just kept on grunting his demand. I decided to ignore him which served to make him jump up from out of the bed, run towards me and put his face right up in my face. He shrieked “If you are not in my bed in the next 2 seconds I’m going to fuck you up”. I was shocked but also terrified, he was off his face and I did not think that he was joking so I got straight into his bed, but this did not appease him. He remained outside the bed – he picked up the ashtray and looked at me in disgust “You disrespectful little BITCH, how dare you smoke in my fucking room you fucking CUNT”. I tried to explain that he had told me to bring the spliff in there but he was just going “YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, CHATTING SHIT” over and over. I really did not know what to do. He was frightening me and I had no battery on my phone and no money in my purse, normally I would not have a bar of this kind of behaviour but I really did not feel safe and so I just laid quietly in his bed hoping that he would calm down. Eventually he got back into bed and he started hugging me and laughing and saying things like “You are so dramatic you little nutter” it was all so weird. I was fuming but also upset, I was so desperate to not be there but I felt that I had no choice. He started to go down on me and I just lay there, I told him quietly to stop but I didn’t really want to risk sending him into psycho mode again and so I just took it. Then he tried to have sex with me, I didn’t say no but I didn’t want to do it. I just took that too. Luckily he was so smashed that he couldn’t really get it up and it didn’t last long. After only a couple of minutes he rolled off and started snoring. I have never been so relieved to hear that racket.

I got no sleep at all, I was sad and angry. He woke up around 8am and I reminded him of how he had behaved and he was shocked and appalled – he kept saying that he was sorry which gave me the confidence to really lay into him. I went bananas and he accepted it and remained remorseful. He gave me money for a cab and I cried my eyes out all the way home vowing to myself that I would never see Bailey again. But he called me to apologise that morning, and again in the afternoon, and eventually he apologised so much over the next few days that I gave in and ended up back at his house a week later. A couple of weeks after that I wanted to see him and so I messaged him to try to arrange something but he told me that we could not meet up because he had caught the tip of his dick in his flies and it was sore, he said that he had a cut on his helmet and that he would be out of action for a bit. I was puzzled by this and my mind immediately went to herpes. I questioned him on this and he told me to behave.

It was Summer now and I went away for a week in May and then he went away for 2 weeks so we hadn’t seen each other for ages. Once we were both back we were messaging back and forth and I told him that I wanted to see him but he said that he couldn’t because he had just had a tattoo and it was near his groin so he couldn’t partake in any physical activity. I was highly suspicious by this point and so I told him that I was just going to come and hang out, not for sex, and he was cool with that. When I arrived at his house and he pulled his trousers down to show me his tattoo I was horrified. The man had decided to tattoo the face of a Lion around his whole groin area so his dick was basically where it’s nose was. It looked like an elephant/lion crossbreed. It was bright yellow and very angry-looking. I have absolutely no idea what inspired this monstrous piece of ink but it was at that moment that I finally realised that Bailey was a massive dick (with a massive dick).

About a week after that I got a random DM request from a pretty woman named Kaya just saying “Hi, can we talk please – no drama”. I curiously accepted her request and she said “Is your name Sophia?” I told her that it wasn’t and she went on to explain that she was basically Bailey’s girlfriend and that she had been since November (I started talking to him in December) – although there was no label on it and they weren’t official but she stayed at his house several times a week and he always told her that he loved her. She had found out that he had been talking to a girl named Sophia and because she had seen me commenting and liking on his Instagram she thought it might be me. She was a lovely woman and she approached me rationally and calmly and so I told her everything. She was in a bit of a state because I was the 4th woman that she had messaged. About an hour beforehand she had connected with another beautiful woman that he had been seeing since January, and another one that he had been fucking in March. She had also messaged Crimewatch Belinda who had confirmed that she had been meeting up with Bailey, and another woman from his Insta who he had been taking out for dinner. I could not believe what I was hearing. The audacity of that little weirdo!!!! He had managed to hide all of this from Kaya because he had blocked her on Insta after she tried to ‘claim him’ on his pictures by writing romantic comments underneath. Despite this she was very much in something with him as far as she was concerned – she didn’t rock the boat about the insta stuff because she had met all of his friends, he was buying her gifts and he had introduced her to his Mum on the phone. He had royally brainwashed the both of us and turned us into complete idiots. The signs were there all along – Kaya was blonde, it must have been her hair that I found, and it was her that was calling him on Valentine’s Day, and it was Kaya’s stuff in his bathroom. How had we both been so naive?

Kaya said “I am really sorry to ask you this but did he give you chlamydia? Because he had it in April”. I freaked out spectacularly at this point – I’d had unprotected sex with him before and since April and I had not been tested. I tried to call Bailey but he didn’t answer. 5 minutes later he rang me back screaming his head off asking me why I had been lying about him. I could not even get a word in edgeways he was going absolutely mad. I put the phone down and then Kaya messaged me to say that she had spoken to him and he had denied everything about he and I. He said that we had slept together once or twice and that I was obsessed with him and wouldn’t leave him alone. The rest of the day went on with Kaya and I revealing more and more information to each other and piecing together the times when each of us had seen him. She definitely sounded like the more serious girlfriend and part of me wondered whether I had actually just forced myself into a situation with him – 7 times out of 10 it had been me that had contacted him first or me that had suggested meeting up, maybe he had just casually gone along with it because he had nothing better to do. I was mad at myself but I was more mad at him because I was sitting there not knowing whether I had chlamydia. I sent him a voice note telling him how angry I was that he had not informed me and how awful it was that he had treated us all like this and he messaged back saying “The worst thing about all this is that I don’t even care – I’m just mad that I’m late for work”. Bailey was a narcisstic prick.

I blocked Bailey on everything and never spoke to him again but me and Kaya remained in regular contact and actually became Insta friends, we are still in touch now. I was OK, I hadn’t been in love with Bailey, but Kaya was messed up about it. He broke her heart. The tiny little shit bag. I supported her through it and a lot of what I went through with her became part of what I used to motivate me to start this page and blog. A few months after it all happened Kaya and I were still in contact when I met Callum I remember excitedly telling her that I had met an amazing man who was so different to Bailey….. I was still such a twat. Bailey was nearly the straw that broke the camel’s back, but Callum came along and crushed it. Looking back I can’t really believe that I was that stupid only 3 years ago – but I have to remind myself that it wasn’t strictly stupidity – it was more to do with the fact that I hadn’t quite figured it all out yet, that I was still so dependent on men to make me feel valued, and that none of that is my fault. I should not feel ashamed that I was treated badly or that he took the piss out of me and I did not notice for 6 months. The shame is on him. The shame is on every man who took advantage of my desperate need to love and be loved. The shame is on my Dad who never taught me what it meant to be loved properly by a man, not on me for not being loved correctly as a child. The shame is on a society that perpetuates the dangerous narrative that women must go above and beyond to please men because being chosen by a man is far better than being single. I am not ashamed that Bailey turned out to be a massive cunt trapped in a minuscule frame – it was not my fault.

Oh, and you’ll be pleased to know that Bailey did not give me chlamydia….. but if you feel like giving me a little something after reading this blog then please click here to find out about how you can become a patron of the blogs. Most future blogs will only be available to patrons from now, patrons also get lots of extra exclusive content including the audio blogs!

One thought on “Bad Things Come In Small Packages

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  1. This all sounds so familiar, these men are do the same fucking shit.

    I can relate to your posts so much. I regret so much of my teens and 20s, doing things and putting up with crap because I wanted a man, to be loved and feel validated. I am glad (in a weird way) I am not the only one who experienced things like this.

    Keep up what you’re doing.

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