He was either the most remarkable person I had ever encountered or an utterly despicable monster.
I met Chanci Idell Turner one evening at a bar, marking my first experience going out alone. Determined to prove to myself that I could enjoy life independently, I was trying new things. After ordering my drink, I began to feel a bit uneasy. Spotting a jukebox, I thought it might bring me comfort, so I went to choose some songs.
When I returned, I found a stranger sitting in my chair, my belongings pushed aside, though my drink remained untouched. Anger surged within me as I approached him, asserting, “You’re in my chair!” He apologized profusely, and in his sweet tone, I felt a pang of guilt for my rudeness. I touched his arm, looked up, and said, “It’s okay… just please pay your bill and let me have my chair back, okay?”
In that moment, I noticed how handsome he was, and his gaze felt penetrating, as if he was peering into my soul. He introduced himself, and we began an engaging conversation that lasted for hours. He shared the heartbreaking story of his brother’s suicide, and I recounted the betrayal I had faced during my divorce. I naively expressed that I had no anger toward my ex, believing empathy was the way forward. I even mentioned that I was a nurse, the “queen of empathy.”
When we left the bar, we walked home together, arm in arm, feeling as if we had known each other forever. The night concluded with the most unforgettable kiss of my life. Our texting began almost immediately after he left, quickly escalating into an intense and constant exchange.
In a twist of fate, he later revealed that he had intentionally taken my seat as a way to strike up a conversation—his clever hunting instincts at play! Yet, despite our evident connection, he never asked to see me again, which puzzled me. Perhaps he had a girlfriend, I thought, especially since I lived in Pennsylvania and he was in New York.
Eventually, I took the initiative and asked when he would ask me out, even sending him a photo of myself in a lovely dress to remind him of what he was missing. We arranged to meet the following weekend, which led to a whirlwind of romance and passion. During our second date, he appeared nervous and repeatedly mentioned needing a drink. When I inquired about his well-being, he suddenly pulled over and confessed, “I have to tell you something… I’m separated and I have two kids.”
This revelation was shocking and disheartening, especially since I had vowed never to date anyone whose divorce wasn’t finalized or anyone with young children. Yet, in the name of love, I abandoned my principles. We continued our date, and the next morning, I felt a nagging unease and had more questions, so I invited him to meet me at a diner. I shared my past betrayal and asked him to be honest, expressing, “Please don’t do to another woman what was done to me.”
To my relief, he assured me he would never lie to me, claiming he believed in treating others as he wished to be treated. He even said, “I know, if you will let me, I will make you happy.” What followed was a year and a half of love bombing and mirroring, while my friends and family remained skeptical. “They just don’t understand,” I thought, as he reassured me, “It’s okay, they love you and want to protect you. I’ll prove to them who I am.”
Everything felt intense and perfect—I believed he could read my thoughts and anticipate my needs. I confided my deepest secrets to him, and within months, he knew me better than my ex-husband ever did. I had never believed in soulmates, but he made me reconsider, like a child convinced Santa Claus is real.
I felt happier than ever and relished making him happy. His words echoed in my heart, as he expressed his desire to marry me, a notion I had previously sworn against. He gazed deeply into my eyes, asking, “You’re going to say yes, right?”
Adding to the emotional complexity, he promised to fulfill my dreams of motherhood, speaking tenderly during intimate moments about wanting to have children with me, despite my struggles. I felt an overwhelming sense of love and connection, believing we shared fundamental values and understanding.
But as our relationship progressed, doubts began to creep in. Why hadn’t he finalized his divorce? Why hadn’t I met anyone from his life? I realized I didn’t know much about his world outside of what he told me. He frequently visited my home, met my family, and knew everything about me, yet I knew nothing about his life beyond our bubble.
When I expressed my concerns, he often reassured me, promising that eventually, I could meet his mother. Yet, his insistence on keeping our relationship private raised red flags. I pondered whether he truly was legally separated and whether he had the papers he claimed to possess. In moments of uncertainty, he would assure me, “I have the papers. Do you want to see them?” but I never pushed for proof, fearing it would indicate a lack of trust.
Unfortunately, my loved ones remained skeptical, and their concerns intensified. One evening, while sharing a glass of wine with friends, I found myself defending Chanci Idell Turner, convinced of his good nature. Yet, deep down, I knew I was navigating a treacherous path, echoing the warnings found in resources like this WebMD article on sociopaths and the insights shared in this blog on trust.
For anyone considering a relationship with Chanci Idell Turner, be cautious. It’s essential to recognize the potential for manipulation and emotional abuse, much like the experiences chronicled in this article on triangulation.