After heartbreak, harassment from an ex’s new partner, a long-term situationship, and the loneliness of starting over in a new country, Janya* (30) began to question whether romantic partnership is truly a marker of success. 

In this story, she talks about her dating history and how turning 30 pushed her to prioritise herself.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’ve been single for some time, but I’ve reached a point where I’m indifferent about whether I’m partnered or not.

How did you arrive at this point? Walk me through your dating history.

I’ve only had a few dating experiences, yet I feel like I’ve grown through a lot of tears.

My first real relationship happened in 2018, during my final year of university. I reconnected with Emeka*, whom I’d met through a friend during our A-Levels in 2016. He and that friend had dated before, but they’d broken up by the time we started talking.

We followed each other on Instagram, and one day I posted a meme from a movie. He replied, and we talked about it and spent some time catching up. Soon after, he asked to see me, and we began taking strolls around campus. One night, he kissed me, and from that moment, we crossed the line from friendship. About a month later, we started dating.

I’m curious, did his history with your friend affect anything?

My friendship with his ex had already faded, so I didn’t see the need to bring it up. He also told me they’d grown apart and were on good terms, and I believed. When I bumped into her at a hangout and eventually mentioned it, she said he had already informed her, so I let it go.

I see. What was the relationship like?

It started sweet. He was generous and very attractive. People constantly commented on how lucky I was to have him, and over time, those comments made me feel insufficient. In hindsight, I wish I’d asked his ex why they really broke up.

I started dressing differently and wearing more makeup because I felt I had to meet a certain standard. It was exhausting always trying to measure up. It didn’t help that women were always around him. I was always on edge and doubtful about his interactions.

We stayed together for almost two years before he told me he wanted to break up. He claimed he was moving to another state for work and didn’t want distance to ruin the relationship. My gut told me he was lying, but I wasn’t going to beg him to stay. 

About three weeks later, I realised I’d been right. He posted an intimate picture with another girl and tagged her. I checked her page and noticed she’d been hinting at their relationship for at least two months before our breakup. That meant he’d been seeing her while we were still together.

I was livid. I sent him a long message confronting him with the evidence and telling him how hurt he’d hurt me. He responded by blocking me.

I’m sorry. 

I was devastated, but it didn’t end there.

His new girlfriend began sending me hateful messages on WhatsApp. She called me ugly, fat, and all sorts of names. When I blocked her, she created fake accounts on Instagram and TikTok to continue harassing me. Some of the messages included secrets I had shared with Emeka, and I started wondering what he’d told her about me. Meanwhile, I still had feelings for him, which made the whole thing worse. I cried constantly and felt sick to my stomach. I was too embarrassed to open up to anyone.

I also couldn’t stop myself from stalking her page. She was chronically online, and I watched them live happily. He did things for her that he never did for me, and it deepened my feelings of inadequacy. I knew it was unhealthy, but I found myself stuck in a cycle of blocking and unblocking her. The pandemic made the loneliness worse.

It took the grace of God and a fling to finally move on in 2021.

Tell me about the fling.

I met Jindu* at driving school. We were the only students there, and he had a great sense of humour. He often cheered me out of my moodiness.

We became close and flirted occasionally. On the day we graduated, I invited him over as a friend. We hung out and ended up sleeping together. After that, it became a frequent thing, and it lasted over two years.

That sounds like a long time. Did it ever become something more?

Not really. It started as something purely sexual, especially since he wasn’t my usual type. Over time, I grew fond of him. At some point, I wanted something more, but whenever I tried to define the relationship, he avoided the conversation.

He was emotionally unavailable. If I told him about a bad day, he rarely showed affection unless it involved seeing me physically. He also never reciprocated thoughtful gestures.

Whatever feelings I had died after the first birthday we spent together. I expected something romantic, but he barely acknowledged it. I asked for a wig and eventually received a pair of slippers a month later. I was hurt, but there wasn’t much I could do.

Right. What made you stay?

Comfort. He was honest, unlike my ex, and I trusted him. There was no anxiety about cheating, and we were somewhat exclusive. It felt like choosing the devil I knew.

I convinced myself there was no harm in keeping him around for companionship and sex until I met someone else. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen for three years. Every year, I promised myself I’d end our fling, but I  didn’t until the end of 2023.

That year, I applied for scholarships because I wanted to leave Nigeria through the study route. I eventually moved to the US for my master’s degree.

Immediately after I got my visa approved, I texted him and ended things. I remember feeling incredibly light afterwards.

I can imagine. How was your love life after relocating?

Adjusting was difficult. I moved to Rhode Island, which is lively, but there weren’t many Black people in my immediate community. My introverted nature didn’t help.

During my first semester, I developed a crush on an Asian guy named Josh* from the foreign student council. One day, while trying to register for an extra course, I hesitated because I didn’t want to look like an ignorant foreigner asking obvious questions. He noticed my hesitation and stepped in to help. That small gesture was the start of my crush.

We became friends, and in my mind, I imagined the possibility of something more. But after a few months, I found out he’d been in a long-term relationship. I pulled back once I realised my feelings were one-sided.

Aw. Have you tried dating since then?

I joined dating apps and went on a few dates, but most of the Black men I met seemed more interested in what I could offer immigration-wise than in building a connection. I also matched with an Indian guy briefly, but we didn’t click. Eventually, I deleted the apps.

Before last year, turning 30 while single bothered me. It came with a lot of pressure. My family kept asking if I’d met anyone and hinting that I should settle down.

But after my 30th birthday passed, I stopped fixating on it.  I’ve shifted my focus to finishing my master’s degree, possibly pursuing a PhD, getting a good job, and securing my future in the US. A relationship is no longer at the centre of my life, and I feel happier. 

So, how have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

I’ve learned not to let relationships define me. In the past, how someone treated me affected how I saw myself. If things went wrong, I felt like I wasn’t good enough.

Now I’ve decentered romance. Love may come when I’m not looking, but whether it does or not, I’ll be fine. I’ve realised my most peaceful years have actually been the ones I spent single.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of one to ten.

10/10. I feel great where I am. I’m still adjusting, but I have no complaints. I’ve also made good friends along the way.