My first real relationship began when I was 17—a JAMB candidate who wasn't even looking for love. But as life would have it, it found me anyway. Unexpected love always hits the hardest, doesn't it?
I met him in church. He was smart, charming, and very good-looking. His confidence and humour made him popular almost immediately. Despite being new, he started leading Sunday school classes when our teacher was absent. He quickly became the ladies' man, and when he started paying attention to me, I felt special. It felt like something out of a Korean drama!
He became my crush and the reason I looked forward to every Sunday. I started putting in extra effort—sometimes even borrowing clothes—just to impress him. Then one Sunday afternoon, he got my contact from my younger sister and messaged me. We talked for hours until he asked me out. And just like that, I said yes.
Looking back now, I realise that was the first mistake—I didn’t let him chase me or prove anything. I cringe at how quickly I said yes. It made me feel... cheap.
Still, the relationship started beautifully. He was sweet, romantic, respectful—everything I dreamed of. We were always together, and it seemed like he was obsessed with me. I had my first kiss with him, and everything moved fast—too fast. But I didn’t see it then because I was naïve.
Barely a month in, he started tutorial classes in January and broke up with me on his first day. I was heartbroken. He said he needed to focus on his exams, so I held on to hope. But then, a friend at his tutorial center told me he was always with another girl—the same girl he once said dressed and behaved carelessly. I was shattered.
When I confronted him, he denied it. He and our mutual friend even staged a fake chat to convince me it was all a lie. I believed them and even cut off the friend who told me the truth. But eventually, I found out everything—and the betrayal hurt even more. I needed space, so I left town and went to stay with my sister in Akure.
That break changed me. I glowed up—literally. My skin cleared, my hair thrived, I added healthy weight. When I came back, people noticed the change immediately. And guess who else noticed? Him.
We started talking again, but this time, I was wiser. I kept my guard up even though he flirted consistently for months. Eventually, I gave in and we got back together—but only because I thought he had genuinely changed. I didn’t know I was just feeding his ego.
The relationship quickly turned cold. He stopped putting in effort, ignored my messages, and cancelled plans. His excuse? “I’m busy.” We were both working, so I gave him space and focused on myself. Then we both got admitted to the same university. That reignited the spark—for a while.
On our church’s praise night, things felt like old times. The next day, Christmas, we chatted all day. Suddenly, he asked who my crush was. I was confused—wasn’t he my boyfriend? I said “you” jokingly, but he seemed surprised. That’s when it hit me—I had been dating myself.
Still, I didn’t confront him. I hoped things would sort themselves out. But just a few days later, my brother told me he went to greet another girl—with my boyfriend. I was crushed.
Even worse? That girl, Teju, was a close friend of my friend. I visited her and asked directly what was going on. She confirmed it: they were dating. I didn’t cry. I had passed that stage. My heart felt numb.
I decided to break up with him on New Year's Eve. But somehow, I let him kiss me that night, and I hated myself for it. I knew I had to end it. Still, he apologized and sweet-talked me—but when school resumed, he ghosted me completely.
Eventually, I asked him if we were still together. His reply? A cold, one-word “No.”
That was my final straw. He later posted another girl, but by then, I no longer cared. I had poured my love, trust, and forgiveness into someone who didn’t value it.
And yet, I healed.
I realised that I was worthy of genuine love, and I started giving that love to myself. I learned that peace of mind is expensive, and I wouldn’t trade mine for anyone or anything again.
I’ve since met someone new—someone better. Someone who taught me what it means to be loved without confusion or pain. That cold “no” gave me the closure I never knew I needed.
If you’re reading this, know this: You are enough. You deserve love that doesn’t make you question your worth. Never settle for crumbs when you were made for abundance. Give yourself the peace, forgiveness, and joy you keep searching for in others.
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