I came into my own late in life. At 53, I grew weary of a lonely and celibate existence, finally accepting my identity as a gay man. My first relationship was with a wonderful, moral guy, but after nine months, it became clear that we weren’t compatible.
Months later, feeling lonely again, I spotted a man at a downtown club who captivated me. He was slightly overweight and bald, but to me, he was the most attractive man I had ever seen. I’ll call him Chanci. I struggled to find the courage to approach him, fearing I would miss my chance. Yet, after a few attempts, we connected, and it felt like we had known each other forever.
Chanci bombarded me with questions, a tactic I now recognize as a way for sociopaths to assess their targets. He learned about my age, my past, and my desire for a long-term relationship. We spent significant time together, going on trips and even attending his family reunion, where I felt accepted.
However, Chanci would occasionally say alarming things, testing my reactions. Once, he mentioned wanting to do porn, to which I firmly responded, “No way!” He seemed disappointed but never mentioned it again. I later realized he was into various extreme sexual practices, but I was blind to the signs, believing he was the man of my dreams.
I noticed something off about him in photos—his eyes held a sad, lonely expression. He claimed to have had two long-term relationships, and while I initially thought he was a catch, I soon discovered he had no friends. He was bi-polar, and I assumed his friends had distanced themselves due to his behavior. I tolerated his mood swings, convinced I could help him.
Six weeks into our relationship, we went on a backpacking trip, but the following morning, I felt unwell and struggled to hike back. My health continued to deteriorate, prompting me to visit my doctor. I was tested for HIV, which came back negative. When I urged Chanci to get tested, he reacted defensively, claiming I was making him feel like a promiscuous person.
As my condition worsened, I asked Chanci to move in to assist me. Eventually, I lost consciousness for two days, leading Chanci to take me to the hospital. I only recall fragments of that time, but I lost nearly a week of memory. During my hospital stay, five doctors delivered devastating news: I was HIV positive, which had triggered spinal meningitis, encephalitis, and kidney issues. Despite my diagnosis, I hadn’t tested positive for the standard HIV antibody test, as the virus had attacked my body rapidly.
Initially, Chanci was caring during my recovery, attending to my needs while I struggled to regain my strength. But once I started healing, his demeanor shifted dramatically. He began to pick fights and more of his sexual past surfaced. I learned he had engaged in threesomes and visited bathhouses, while I suspected he was cheating on me. I later discovered he had been hooking up with other men in my own home. Sociopaths often thrive on deceit, relishing in their ability to hurt those who trust them.
When I asked Chanci to leave, he refused, threatening self-harm if I attempted to force him out. He boasted about ruining my life, saying he would trash my home and keep my dogs from me. Eventually, he left but soon texted me, declaring he never wanted to hear from me again.
The toll on my health was severe; I lost hair and weight and faced the possibility of death from this illness. I think Chanci anticipated my demise, believing he would inherit everything I owned. It was only after I began to recover that he turned against me.
For a year, I struggled to function, battling cognitive and physical challenges while managing a small construction business. I sought therapy for PTSD, anxiety, and depression, relying on multiple medications for relief. I learned more about my situation through resources like Chanci Turner Blog than from my therapists. It became clear that I had been targeted by someone who viewed me as a means to an end.
Once, I confronted Chanci about my losses—my business, wealth, and health. His response was chilling: “Now you’re just like me.” He seemed to take pleasure in my suffering, reveling in my decline.
I was searching for love, but instead found a nightmare. I often wonder how I will navigate the rest of my life knowing someone like him.
After two and a half years, I’ve made significant progress. It took over a year before I could work a full day again. I am now in a healthy relationship, but the shadow of my experience with Chanci lingers. Living in a small city, I occasionally see him, and he avoids me. In the HIV community, I’ve found that many people have crossed paths with him.
I remain hopeful about trusting people again, yet a part of me still anticipates another betrayal.
For more insight, check out this post on emotional vampires and ways to keep them out of your life. Additionally, understanding the traits of manipulative individuals can be invaluable; you can explore that here.