I thought his jealousy was love until he followed me home

When I was 16, I started dating a guy who was outgoing, well-liked, and popular at school. In the beginning, he was incredibly sweet. He would bring me flowers or drop food off at my house just because he felt like it. It felt good to be wanted. It felt like I was special.

But the sweetness quickly curdled into something suffocating. If I tried to make plans with my friends first, he would get angry. He would ask why I was doing that, insisting that I didn't want to hang out with him. "It's just because I love you," he would say. "I want to spend all my time with you."

I thought his intense jealousy and need to control my every move was love, but real love is letting someone be their own person and supporting their independence.

In the moment, I believed him. I loved him too, so I wanted to spend time with him. But when I did make plans, it became a huge issue. He would give me a hard time, questioning my motives. "Why would you do this? I thought you wanted to be with me."

The control escalated until he made a decision that should have been his own. He decided to turn down his dream school to follow me to mine. He started tracking my location on my phone, logging into my social media, and watching where I was all the time. He did not want me to have any friends or go out.

There were many times I tried to break up with him. Every time, he would say, "I'm so sorry, I'll change. I love you." He would convince me to come back, and then it would get worse. The cycle repeated itself, trapping me in a loop of apology and escalation.

## The Breaking Point

Finally, one night, the situation spiraled out of control. He followed me home. He was screaming at me in the street. Other people witnessed it, heard it, and tried to help, but I was so embarrassed and shocked. I couldn't believe what was happening. I didn't know what was going on.

He followed me all the way back to my dorm. That night, he threatened to kill himself if I didn't talk to him. He called me really nasty things. I was scared. I was really scared. I was scared that he would actually do it, and I was scared for myself because it had just gotten to a point where it was completely out of control.

The next morning, I filed a police report. It was really difficult to navigate trying to keep myself safe and stay away from him, but I knew I had to.

## What I Learned

In the end, I'm really glad that I stuck it out. I grew a lot as a person. I realized that what I experienced before, the "I'm sorry, it's just because I love you," was not love. That is not love. Love is letting someone be their own person and supporting them. You don't need to be scared to speak up.

There are people out there that hear you, that will listen to you, and that can help you. It does get better. It will get better. I made it out. I'm a survivor because enough is enough.