I Dated Five Different Men Simultaneously While in a Serious Relationship

When I think back to my childhood, it feels like I am looking at the life of another person. A time that should have been filled with safety, laughter, and innocence was quietly taken from me. Back then, I did not have the language to explain what was happening, and I did not even know that something was wrong. My cousin, someone I trusted, crossed boundaries that should never be crossed. His hands went where they had no right to go. He disguised it as play, as something harmless, and I believed him. I kept it a secret, buried under layers of confusion and shame, because I did not understand it myself. It was only much later, as an adult, that I realized I had been sexually abused. By then, the damage had already been done.

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As I grew older, I carried this weight with me, though I didn’t understand its full impact until much later. The first man I truly dated was Martin, whom I met when I was in University. He was kind, loving, and everything I could have asked for, but there was a part of me that was still lost. I was promiscuous, unable to be faithful even when I had a good man by my side. Despite all the love and care Martin showed me, I cheated on him. It happened often, sometimes with five different men at once. I kept lying, convincing myself it was normal, that I didn’t deserve better. We stayed together for three years until one day, my secret was finally exposed. He found the messages, the texts, the truth. He left, and it hit me hard.

Then, there was Dave. He was the first man I truly thought I had fallen in love with. He was older, much older, ten years, to be exact. He had everything: money, cars, a beautiful home in Accra. When I moved to the city for my national service, he gave me a place to stay and took care of me. We had a strange relationship. He wasn’t the kind of guy who called every day or kept in constant touch. Instead, he’d send a message when he wanted to see me. We’d hang out, have fun, and then go our separate ways for weeks, sometimes months, without any communication. But still, I called him my boyfriend. It was painful, though. I wanted more from him, more attention, more affection, but the relationship just wasn’t that way. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. After a couple of years, I walked away, realizing that even though I loved him, it wasn’t enough for me to stay in a relationship that left me feeling so empty.

After Dave, I found myself once again looking for love in all the wrong places. I met Kwesi, the man who would bring me back into a pattern I couldn’t break. With him, I was unfaithful again, and this time, it wasn’t just a few encounters. I had multiple relationships behind his back, all while calling him my boyfriend. The lies piled up, and for four years, I kept deceiving him. But in January, the truth came crashing down when Kwesi found all the messages, texts, and evidence on my phone. He left, and this time, he wasn’t coming back. He hated me, and the weight of what I had done hit me harder than ever before.

Now, as I sit here reflecting on everything, I realize just how deep the roots of my pain go. I don’t want to be this person anymore. I don’t want to be a cheater, a liar, or someone trapped in unhealthy relationships. I see now that my past, what I experienced as a child, has shaped the way I behave in relationships. And I need help to change. But the truth is, I don’t have the resources to pay for therapy, and that’s why I’m reaching out.

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I want to be a better person. I want to heal from the trauma that’s haunted me for years. I want to stop the cycle of promiscuity and find real, meaningful connections. If there’s anyone out there who can help me, I’m ready to take the first step toward change.