This post has been a long time coming. It’s not one I ever imagined myself writing, nor one I think anyone who follows this blog would have expected from me. My reason for writing this is not to explain myself or to excuse anything I did. To be honest, I myself can’t even pin down my reason for sharing this publicly. The only thing I know is that the spike in news articles about horrible dating app experiences combined with what I myself did has made me feel a lot of regret and a want to atone for my own actions. I haven’t quite figured out how best to do that, but if me writing this helps at all, then I think it might be worth the try.
I think some of you might have already picked up on this from my subtle-not-so-subtle hints in prior posts, but to come right out and say it: I stalked someone. I didn’t sit outside their house, explicitly threaten their safety, or anything like that. In Rebecca Bunch’s own words, “the situation’s a lot more nuanced than that”. My situation is. It is a really long story full of a lot of details that would take me an entire day to get through. For the sake of time, I won’t get into everything I did. Ultimately what it comes down to is this: I felt rejected, entitled to a response, a further entitlement to not being abandoned, and I was the most persistent I’ve ever been in trying to make sure none of those things ever happened again. It was quite literally the stupidest series of decisions I’ve ever made in my life. I’ve never acted so immaturely or been so inconsiderate, especially knowing what this person and their family were going through.
The thing I’m really confused about is that while I was doing what I was doing, I knew it was wrong. I knew I wouldn’t be proud of myself. Even if any of it had worked, I would’ve eventually felt way too guilty to let it last. It’s as if I was a completely different person. Like I said, I’m pretty sure no one who is reading this right now (including myself) would have ever pegged me to be a stalker. What I also really hate about what I did is that it took me way too long to actually fully stop. And I’m still not over it. I keep replaying all of it over in my head. I think about it nonstop. It’s not healthy at all and I hate that I can’t get my mind off of this situation.
Aside from what I mentioned above, I don’t want to get any further into why I did what I did. For one, I don’t want anyone to think there’s any excuse that would validate stalking. Stalking, no matter the type, is not okay. When someone says stop, you stop. Period. For another, it just plainly doesn’t matter. I regret what I did so much and I wish I didn’t feel like I had to write this post. I can’t tell you that I feel better having written and posted this. I don’t think I feel anything other than more shame. I guess this post was really just me needing to get this off my chest, but I really don’t know. What you should know is that for now, I’m fine. I’m getting help and I’m thankfully not in any trouble. Thank you for your willingness to read this.