Yah it's B-Locko

 I grew up in a family where deception, cheating, and lies were almost second nature, even though I was always taught to be kind, truthful, and honest. It seemed like every side—my mom’s, my dad’s, and even their extended families—had their own share of blame. This constant cycle of broken trust became so normalized that I didn’t realize it wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

At around 17, I had my first official relationship. We met through Clans, which was a popular way of connecting back then. I’m not sure if it's still a thing, but it was our little world. At the time, I was living in Baguio, but my mom decided to send me away to another school because I had too many friends, and I often skipped classes. I needed space, a fresh start. And that’s where he came in. We texted non-stop, day and night, always on the phone. I knew about his reputation, the red flags were there, but when you’re young, naïve, and caught up in that whirlwind of excitement, red flags don’t seem to matter. Back then, no one really talked about them.

To be honest, I had my own red flags too. I drank, smoked, and skipped school just to hang out with my friends. When we finally met in person, we had a few drinks, and things happened quickly. I didn’t think much of it at the time—he was a self-proclaimed “playa,” and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I was there for the experience, to live in the moment. But afterward, he kept reaching out. He love-bombed me, showering me with affection, making me feel like I was his priority. Little did I know, that was part of the manipulation, part of the gaslighting. But of course, I was too blind to see it at the time. I was young and, frankly, clueless.

The relationship carried on, even though there were constant rumors of him hooking up with other girls. He would apologize, and somehow, I’d accept it. I convinced myself it was okay because, deep down, I had been flirting with other guys too—though never physically, just as a way to get back at him. That cycle of cheating, apologies, and pretending everything was fine went on for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, it all caught up to me. My reputation was in shambles. Crazy things happened during that time, things that I wish I could forget, but those experiences are now a part of me. We lived together on and off for about a year. He spent time at my place, and I stayed at his. Both of our parents knew, which looking back now, was a bit of a strange setup. All the while, there were side girls I had no idea about, and sometimes, I just let it slide because I had become so used to the chaos. It was my version of normal.

But there comes a point where enough is enough. I started developing feelings for someone else, someone I actually wanted to be with, and that’s when I knew it was time to end things. I didn’t feel anything for him anymore. We parted ways mutually, and despite all the BS we went through, I don’t regret those years. They shaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined at the time.

Through it all, I learned resilience. I learned how to bounce back from hurt, and most importantly, I learned how to value myself. After that relationship ended, I promised myself that I would never again settle for the bare minimum. I became more attuned to red flags, more protective of my heart. The experience taught me that love isn’t about enduring pain or letting someone walk all over you just because you’ve become used to it. It’s about recognizing your worth and not accepting anything less than what you truly deserve.

That chapter of my life is closed now, but it’s one that taught me some of the most important lessons I carry with me today.