Relationship Breadcrumbing So Subtle, It’s Almost Invisible

It’s impossible to see when you’re in the thick of it.

While I don’t miss my marriage, I do miss the consistency that came with it. My ex-husband’s behavior was predictable. I knew his flaws all too well. And when we fought, I didn’t panic that he wouldn’t return. Homeboy would eventually need clean underwear.

Relationships after divorce are not for the faint of heart.

My writings for the past month are about my breakup with Jeremy. I adored him. I fell in love with him. And in the end, he waffled between staying to build a life together to wanting to date other people. I asked him the final week repeatedly if he wanted out; no harm, no foul if he didn’t want to see my face anymore. But Jeremy insisted he wanted to make things work, only to gut me again.

It’s been a few weeks. I’m still heartbroken but I’m out of the crying-on-the-bathroom-floor-every-five-minutes phase. Nothing brings clarity to the heart and mind like time.

Breadcrumbing is when one person gives the other person the bare minimum effort, time, attention, affection, or words of affirmation that give the semblance of a real relationship. Because it’s the bare minimum, the other person is left emotionally starving.

I was breadcrumbed for nine months and didn’t even know it. Jeremy did the bare minimum and I jumped at the scraps like a hungry dog. He’s not a bad guy and I don’t think he did it intentionally to hurt me. I think he’s emotionally immature, lacks self-awareness, and lived a life of being a charming, handsome man.

Here are the breadcrumbs I’ll no longer accept ever again.

Accepting a lower place in his life.

Relationships after divorce aren’t the same as before divorce when your friends are a mix of single and married.

At my age, my priorities are my kids, my job, and my friends. Unless the relationship is long-term, I’m not prioritizing a new guy over those friendships.

Except it was becoming long-term. Nine months and talks of merging families is a long-term plan.

However, Jeremy treated our relationship like one long fling.

Because he never made an effort to progress our relationship, I knew my role in his life. His kids, his job, and his friends come first. I was fine with that because that’s how it should be. My naivety allowed me to believe that since I met his friends, my placement on the rung of life moved up.

Now I know: it’s how it should be at the beginning. After a few months, the person you’re dating needs to go up a few notches. The day we officially broke up, I told Jeremy my place in his life was between amoeba and paramecium.

I told him that I was okay with that because other things in life are more important. What the fuck was I thinking? My crappy self-esteem believed he was out of my league.

I will no longer accept being treated like I’m meaningless in the grand scheme of someone’s life.

Lack of communication.

Guys over forty-five aren’t the greatest texters. It’s a different generation. I get it.

Jeremy wasn’t in tech like my friends and former flames. He didn’t sit around texting all day like I did. He barely messaged me and I accepted it.

Now that I’m dating new people, it’s dawning on me how little effort I accepted from Jeremy. I used to beg for consistency, even if that meant only one text a day. That’s insane.

I want the Goodnight Text. I want the Good Morning text. I want the check-in during the day. I want consistent and routine messages.

It’s moving a thumb. I treated texts from Jeremy like he whipped out parchment paper, inked a feather quill, then trained a dove to send it my way. It’s a fucking iMessage, not Shakespeare.

Last minute plans.

When we began dating, Jeremy planned our time a week in advance. The further along we were, the less he planned until I’d only get asked out the day before.

I assumed it was because we were comfortable around each other. Now I realize it’s a sign someone isn’t excited to see me; so excited they’ll make sure to see me the next time I’m free to hang out days or weeks from now.

Ray, a guy I started dating, made dinner reservations for tomorrow night. He planned this date five days in advance, which was the last time we saw each other. He’s texted me a few times saying how excited he is for our date.

My Fearful Avoidant nature cringes at the perceived neediness. My logical brain is in override mode and tells me that it’s normal and expected for someone’s eagerness toward a dinner date.

I was too scared to buy tickets to concerts or shows. I mistakingly thought we’d survive until August and bought tickets to The Book of Mormon because Jeremy never saw it. Now, I’m going with a girlfriend.

I don’t ever want to feel that way ever again. The guy I’m dating needs to plan our time together in advance for events or special occasions, not last-minute hangouts.

No label after months of dating.

I tried a handful of times to DTR the relationship with Jeremy. He dodged the question like a pro. Instead of telling me he didn’t want commitment, he’d laugh and brush it off. I gave it one final try with a solid no-really-what-are-we-doing conversation and he slithered out of it.

He introduced me as his friend when his coworkers crashed our date. It was humiliating to be called that seven months into the relationship while I was wearing a slutty dress, like a secret hooker. At the time, I thought he wanted to keep things professional with his coworkers so they wouldn’t pry into his life.

Why did I make excuses for the things that hurt me?

After our breakup, Jeremy called me and during our 2.5-hour chat, referred to me as his “girlfriend”. I made him repeat it and asked him when that happened.

“Well, let’s call it what it was…you were my girlfriend,” he answered. Cool, thanks for giving me the label after you smashed my heart with a meat tenderizer.

I’m not doing that again. If I ask someone for a status, I’m going to get a solid answer. I don’t need someone to agree to a full commitment if they’re not ready, but I expect an honest conversation about the relationship’s direction.

If I’m too scared to ask or the guy weasels out of the topic, I’m done.

I cried today over Jeremy but for different reasons. It hit me how his decline in effort and my acceptance of breadcrumbs affected my self-worth.

Or maybe my low self-worth accepted the breadcrumbs because I was emotionally starving.

Either way, I didn’t feel special or wanted. I thought I did but now that I’m dating again, I’m remembering what it’s like for someone to enthusiastically jump to be with me.

My parents never said “I love you” growing up. I know that I gravitate towards men who withhold affection and praise because when I get slivers of it, I feel satisfied. But it’s not really satisfying. It’s eating Mcdonald’s when you want a fine steak.

I’m not a fucking single-cell organism like an amoeba. I’m not someone who’s placed low on the ladder of importance in someone’s life. My eyes are open to the breadcrumbs I received (and, admittedly, I did sometimes to others).

This isn’t an “I’m a Queen and deserve to be treated as such” rant. This is me saying, “I want a true, happy, reciprocated relationship and won’t put up with shit that doesn’t feel good anymore”. It’s not eloquent, I know. It’s all my wounded heart and mind can whip up as it heals from heartbreak.

I’m reminding myself that I’m the main character of my story, not a secondary one in someone else’s.