I read my boyfriend’s diary, and literally, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw (he’s my ex now).
I cared for my then-boyfriend a great deal.
And yet, despite all odds, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were not right, especially in the past few months.
I was always a firm believer in trusting my partner. We shared one specific rule; to give each other privacy and trust.
So why did I want to read my boyfriend’s diary without his permission?
I didn’t have to resort to such behavior because I trusted him. Right?
After going back and forth with myself for the next two weeks, I couldn’t ignore those feelings anymore. I hesitated for a long time, but my relationship was slowly sinking.
You can judge me, I agree there was no justification for what I was planning to do.
I could feel my internal struggle trying to hinder me from going against our major rule. But I had to know what exactly was going on.
So, I followed my intuition.
I eventually did it the day he left his computer unlocked — his diary is digital.
But as I scrolled down the pages, I had to wonder. Is it possible to take overthinking too far?
Anthony and I both worked from home, so we were together 24/7.
It was the most perfect relationship in the beginning if I dare say so myself.
We had so much in common, and spending so much time together strengthened that bond. Sex was amazing, and planning for how many kids and pets we’d have always left me swooning.
He took me out for the finest cuisines, and the luxurious trips we took around the world were things I’d never experienced before in my life.
But now, as I sat up in the middle of the night on a chilly Thursday, my mind kept wandering.
Is he planning on breaking up with me?…
Anthony journaled. A lot. I needed to know what was in there. The realization that I didn’t know what was going on with him was a bit frightening.
The same intimacy that was overflowing at first was now nonexistent. It’s like a switch flipped inside him one day.
And I couldn’t place a finger on the why.
My eyes searched the room for his laptop. I could see it stacked in the corner of our room.
I navigated the bright screen, making a beeline for the journal.
I didn’t know what to look for exactly, so I typed in my name: Hakima.
“Test Marriage-Worthiness Hakima: NO!”
I blinked at the screen.
What?
“By 28, a female is like damaged goods in my eyes. Hakima is already 36 and she is not selfless enough. She is questioning my leadership and is challenging me.”
My trembling fingers clicked on the next page.
“I need to find a younger and innocent girl I can trust. Someone who sucks in bed, grew up sheltered, and was a bit ugly in her younger years.”
I was in utter disbelief.
I really tried to make sense of what I was reading. All I could do was keep staring at the laptop, hoping it would vanish away like a bad dream.
“A potential wife for me would be between 19 and 27. I’ve seen enough to resent high-notch count women — no one wants to wife up someone like that! Certainly not me. A younger woman is more likely to have no experience and obey me.”
Was my boyfriend a creep?
I continued to the other tabs he had opened.
“5 Signs of Low Notch Count in a Woman”
“What was all this?” I thought to myself, biting back tears.
It then occurred to me that my ex was an incel, and I had no idea who he was, so I went onto a search engine immediately.
“Incels: People (usually male) who are unable to find sexual partners despite wanting them. They express hate towards the people (usually women) they blame for this.”
It made sense now.
He believed he couldn’t get women, and it was the reason he despised them. How could they have such easy access to sex, and he couldn’t?
So, his strategy was to get a younger, more naive woman who wouldn’t question anything he did. He would have a window to be as misogynistic as possible, and she would stay loyal to him.
And it wasn’t me.
I can’t say I didn’t see the warning signs before.
For months and months, I rationalized Anthony’s behavior. I attributed his mood swings and erratic behavior to work pressures or even to me at times.
Sometimes he would be amazing, and we would be on great terms. And then, his mood would shift.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions. I just couldn’t cope.
I was seeking consistency, but it was gone.
It was so overwhelming for me to experience mental distress from someone I loved that I began living in denial.
It allowed my mind to adjust to the shock more gradually and focus on happier times instead.
It was only way after I left the relationship that I realized it was a defense system called cognitive dissonance. This is where the feelings of distress made me seek out ways to feel better.
I, however, stayed in the relationship because I was financially dependent on him. But I didn’t love him anymore.
Trust. That was my main rule in our relationship.
Sure, I could have gone about it in a different way. I could always have asked him or kept my fears to myself. But then, I may never have known the kind of person he was.
Would I do it again? Probably not, it was not my finest hour.
But I chose to feel no regrets for reading his diary because acting on my intuition was the best thing I could have ever done for myself.
Hakima Tantrika is a Tantra teacher, intimacy and relationship coach, writer, influencer, and educator.
This article was originally published at Medium. Reprinted with permission from the author.