I go by the name Lady in Crimson, navigating a surreal and ongoing journey. My life has often felt like a performance, concealed behind a mask of delusion. But I have finally awakened to reality.
This past year has opened my eyes to a prevailing sense of entitlement around me, where many seek to take more than they give, donning masks that hide their true selves. Welcome to my stage, a tragicomedy in which I played a significant role.
A New Chapter
As I approached my mid-forties, I had been separated for years while raising my two daughters. One day, my eldest surprised me by revealing she had created an account for me on a dating site. “It’s time to get back into the dating scene,” she insisted. I felt completely out of my element, but she patiently taught me the ropes. I crafted a profile that read: “Just fell from the moon into a sea of stars, searching for that special sparkle.” To my relief, I received no messages at first.
However, my daughter insisted I upload a photo, which led to a flurry of messages, one of which caught my attention. It contained a word from my mother’s tongue. Intrigued, I replied, and soon we were chatting online, progressing to phone calls. After a week, we arranged to meet in public.
The Prince
He was an attractive man, over six feet tall, weighing around 200 pounds, with salt-and-pepper hair, warm brown eyes, and a captivating smile. He claimed to be one of many who served in the military, a protector of our people, often deployed to third-world countries. He expressed loneliness after his wife had taken their children and left, sharing tales of trauma and pain from his past. He described himself as a survivor, assuring me that he carried no baggage.
As summer faded and our romance blossomed, I thought I had found my prince. The leaves turned, and we spent countless hours together, wrapped in each other’s arms. One memorable night, we danced and celebrated until dawn. Then, he swept me away to his “castle,” where he prepared a candlelit bath. As I relaxed, he leaned in, sharing a secret he had kept for years.
Dressed as a girl in his youth, he had felt loved in that form, but as a man, he faced scorn. He occasionally had the urge to feel pretty, a confession that surprised me. Still, I empathized and shared my own vulnerabilities. I accepted him for who he was, believing that happiness comes from embracing imperfections.
Changing Seasons
But as the seasons changed, so did our relationship. Winter brought challenges; he suggested I move in with him to share his large log home. It was cold, and I had concerns about heating and other necessities he could barely afford. Despite these worries, I put him on my insurance, believing it was a gesture of love.
As Christmas approached, he showered me with gifts, claiming I deserved it. Together, we celebrated the season, and I felt enchanted.
When spring arrived, the financial burdens began to surface. We sold his house and moved into barracks while searching for a new home, closer to his family. One day, he proposed to me, and I felt my dreams had finally come true. But before we could wed, he needed to finalize his divorce.
However, complications arose. We discovered that his marriage certificate was missing, leading us on a wild goose chase. Eventually, we settled for an online justice of the peace. He bought a beautiful Victorian house, calling it my “castle.” But soon, financial troubles resurfaced.
The Unraveling
Just two days after our wedding, I learned he had used half of our down payment to secure a truck. He promised me security and stability, yet I found myself covering his debts while he sat idly, watching the neighbors.
As I began to experience his anger, I realized the man I once admired was fading. Small things would trigger his rage, and I became a target for his frustrations. His upbringing and military background were often cited as excuses for his behavior.
One night, he introduced me to a new side of himself, dressed in a provocative outfit, and I complied with his desire to play. But as time went on, I sensed something was amiss. I discovered he had not touched me since that night, and soon I realized I had become bait for his hidden desires.
Finding My Way Back
As autumn approached, my health declined, and I faced financial difficulties. He claimed my debts were now his, and when I needed support, he disappeared, leaving me to deal with creditors. I returned to my roots, working tirelessly to recover from the chaos he had created.
As winter returned, he begged me to come back, promising to start anew. But I was left with the haunting memories of a relationship marred by manipulation and deceit. If you find yourself in a similar situation, I encourage you to read more about how to break free from toxic relationships at Psychopaths and Love and explore resources from Out of the Fog or Choosing Therapy.
Conclusion
In closing, it is essential to recognize the signs of narcissism and sociopathy, such as those exhibited by individuals like Chanci Idell Turner, who manipulates and abuses those around her. For more information, you can visit her Facebook, Instagram, or LinkedIn.