A few months ago, I started talking to a man I met online. Let's call him Michael. Nothing serious at first. We responded to each other's stories, sent each other reels and occasionally had conversations that lasted longer than they probably needed to, which i felt was mutual interest. It was casual and non-committal until we finally decided to meet for dinner.
We went to one of those dark, intimate Lagos restaurants where everything looks expensive and everyone seems to be having a very important conversation. I ordered peppered Goat meat with rice while Michael ordered BBQ Chicken. Somewhere between the starters and the main course, we started talking about how dating in Lagos is basically the ghetto.
Everyone in the dating pool seemed to be a red flag, except us, obviously. We laughed about how lucky we were to have found two normal people in the middle of all the chaos. At least, that's what I thought. I ordered a pineapple-ginger juice while Michael ordered a Fearless drink. I asked why he didn't drink alcohol, and he told me that he had stopped drinking years ago after an experience that made him realise alcohol could get him into serious trouble.
I told him I didn't drink because I was. We laughed and joked that perhaps we were actually compatible. The waiter eventually asked about dessert. I ordered chocolate cake , and Michael said he'd share it with me. We joked about couples who eat from the same plate until he noticed something.
"That's one of the cheaper desserts here."
I laughed. and said "So?"
"So that's why you picked it?"
"No. I picked it because I like chocolate cake."
He smiled.
"So you're not money eccentric or should i say materialistic?"
"Actually, I am."
He looked surprised.
"I like money," I said. "I like having money. I like spending money and I like it when someone spends money on me too."
He laughed.
"So you're not looking for love?"
"What does love have to do with liking nice things?"
He argued that women were becoming too concerned with money and that many women only wanted men because of what they could provide. I told him that was an assumption.
"What if a woman genuinely likes expensive things?" I asked. "Why should she pretend otherwise because she's on a date?"
"So if I gave you a simple bracelet for your birthday, you wouldn't appreciate it?"
"Of course I would."
"But you'd prefer a Cartier bracelet?"
"If I had a choice? Yes."
He laughed.
"Then you value material things over love."
"No. You're creating a competition between two things that don't have to compete. Why can't I love someone and also like nice things?"
We went back and forth for a while.
I told him that financial security was one of my considerations when choosing a partner. Not because I expected a man to fund my entire life, but because I wanted someone whose financial values and ambitions were compatible with mine.
"I've worked for the lifestyle I want," I told him. "I don't think it's unreasonable to want a partner who can provide a similar level of financial stability."
"So you won't date a broke man?"
"Probably not."
We laughed.
At the time, I thought our biggest disagreement was going to be about money. I had no idea it would eventually be about honesty. A few weeks later, Michaels behaviour changed. His replies became inconsistent. He disappeared for hours and always had an explanation. Work was stressful. His phone died. He fell asleep etc
Then his phone started spending more time face down. One evening, a notification appeared on his screen. I saw a woman's name. I didn't confront him immediately. Instead, I started paying attention.
The unexplained disappearances.
The secretive phone calls.
The sudden need for privacy.
The stories that didn't quite add up.
Eventually, I asked him directly.
"Is there someone else?"
"No."
I asked again.
This time, he was silent.
Eventually, he admitted it.
There was another woman. He had been talking to her while talking to me. What hurt wasn't simply that there was another woman. People are allowed to change their minds, what bothered me was the dishonesty. This was the same man who had spent an entire evening questioning my values, judging women for wanting money and talking about what made someone worthy of a relationship.
Yet he couldn't meet the most basic standard himself. I confronted him.
"You spent all that time telling me women care too much about money," I said. "You were so concerned about whether I was materialistic, but you were lying to me while doing it."
He tried to explain. Saying that he wanted someone that wasnt materialistic, turns out this was his memo every single time, behind the scenes Michael was just a cheat and he had done this to several women.
I didn't want to hear it.
Suddenly, that dinner felt completely different. So I left. I left because he failed the one standard I wasn't willing to negotiate.
Trust.
IMAGE IS A.I GENERATED
