Editor’s Note: LoveFraud received the following email from a reader we’ll refer to as “Margaret,” a senior citizen who found herself entangled with a sociopath.
I’m now 77 years old, and my sociopath partner is 74. We were together for nearly seven years. You would think at my age I would have known better. I have recently left him for the fourth time, and with the assistance of LoveFraud blogs, I’m on the road to recovery. It still pains me to reflect on my past choices, but here’s my story.
To comprehend how I got involved with this manipulative individual, I need to go back 18 years to when my husband passed away. Shortly after his death, my then-15-year-old nephew stole $6,000 from me. When I informed my mother, she lost it and insisted, “There’s no way my grandson could do that.” Despite my insistence, I was alienated by my family, who convinced my three children that I was mourning their father and not thinking clearly. I’ve always had a close bond with my kids, so their disbelief was devastating.
What complicated matters was that my youngest sister (the mother of the thief) was only four years older than my eldest daughter and managed to persuade her that I was mistaken. My oldest daughter then influenced my other two kids, a daughter eight years younger and a son eleven years younger. I’m quite strong-willed, so I resolutely maintained my stance. My mother passed away within the year, but not before admitting to me that she believed I was right all along, although she only confided this to me.
The following year, I went to Florida for the winter and met a wonderful man. We maintained a long-distance relationship for nine years. At that time, I was only acquainted with the sociopath, who had previously tried to initiate a relationship with me, but I wasn’t interested.
The Campaign Begins
After my long-distance relationship ended, I felt lonely, and the hurt I experienced from my family still lingered. I found it difficult to trust anyone. Coincidentally, I joined a group where the sociopath was very active, and we became good friends. A year later, after he ended his relationship with his girlfriend, he began his campaign for my affection. I had grown fond of him and was hesitant to jeopardize our friendship, but ultimately, he prevailed.
The first four years of our relationship were enjoyable. We engaged in activities that many people in their 70s typically wouldn’t, such as boating, biking, and visiting museums. Although he was quite frugal, I didn’t mind footing my own expenses. He showered me with attention, frequently proclaiming, “You’re all that matters to me.”
We maintained separate homes, but I had a lovely summer cottage that he adored. He never contributed financially to its upkeep, although he undertook some renovations (which I paid for), and I appreciated that. Each year, he promised to cover the property taxes but would conveniently forget at tax time. He rarely bought food, even when we hosted friends for weekends, claiming that his contribution was driving me there and covering the gas. We traveled to Florida several times, and I always paid my share.
The Other Woman
After four years, I began to notice signs that hinted another woman had been staying at his residence—things like stray hairs, glass stains on “my night table,” and burnt-out candles. When I confronted him about these signs, he consistently denied any wrongdoing, often responding, “I have no idea how those got there.”
I broke up with him three times, each time for the same reason. Our separations lasted about three to four months, during which he relentlessly pursued me—sending emails, showing up at our group meetings, and calling me. He even once knelt and begged me to take him back, claiming he couldn’t live without me. His scripted apologies became predictable.
It’s worth noting that he had a history of infidelity with his previous partners. Though he never exhibited violence towards me, he would erupt in rage when confronted. He is a retired Naval Officer with a background in diving and has shown a cold demeanor towards his family, yet maintains contact with them, listening to their complaints while remaining emotionally detached.
Since I lacked definitive proof of his cheating, I would return to him. He became more cautious about leaving evidence but would eventually slip up, leading me to discover new signs of another woman’s presence, and the cycle would repeat. Each time I broke up with him, he would beg for three months before I’d relent, only for the infidelity to resume.
Calling It Quits
I ended things for the fourth time last month when he canceled our planned trip to my cottage with a blatant lie. Upon returning home, I made a surprise visit to his place and found evidence that someone had recently been there. That’s when I finally called it quits. He’s currently in the initial stage of anger, accusing me of “shattering his life again.” I anticipate he’ll soon begin his pursuit once more, but this time he’s aware that I caught him in a lie, so he’ll likely lay low for a while.
Two years ago, my sister-in-law, who is a psychologist, pointed out that he exhibits sociopathic traits. Initially, I was skeptical, but after taking a related test, I found he answered affirmatively to 11 questions (I answered for him). Although he’s non-violent, a good listener, and claims to help others, it was hard for me to accept he truly is a sociopath. I now realize this is due to his lack of genuine feelings for anyone—he’s incapable of real gratitude and sympathy. He’s a serial cheater, miserly, a sex addict, and a reformed alcoholic in AA. Those are sufficient red flags.
All sociopaths aren’t overtly abusive. I’m quite attractive, and he takes pride in being seen with me, although he rarely offers compliments.
I share my story in hopes of reaching other senior women who may find themselves ensnared by similar individuals. Any advice on how to move past this experience would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
A Regretful Senior Citizen