I broke up with my boyfriend and wrote about it on Instagram. And then he tried to sue me

At the age of 20, I started dating my first boyfriend, Stephen, who was 26 at the time. When we met, I fancied the maturity and wisdom he had from those extra years. Initially, he seemed like a total sweetheart who desired to fill his solitude with my company. But most of the time, I felt like I needed to fulfil a lengthy checklist for him to be with me. This was motivation to overhaul some areas in my belief system and identity so that at the end of the day, the ‘perfect’ guy I could only dream of would choose me. After realising our personalities were just too mismatched we (thankfully)  broke up and my life went uphill  – until he tried to sue me for slander. 

If someone had told me that I would one day be narrating this story, I would meet that with disbelief. The notion that someone whom you once loved could act with such coldness just seems so fictional. 

A reflection that had gone wrong

I have always taken the time to reflect on life and its beautiful intricacies. A friend gave a thoughtful present? I’m taking the time to appreciate them and our friendship – the same goes for past relationships. 

It was a Sunday night and I came across a passage about showing enthusiasm for your partner’s interests and vice versa. With my current boyfriend, Tom*, I am always grateful that he explores my interests. Tom and I were two different sides of the same coin, hence why I loved how invested he was in me. I used to yearn for this from Stephen, but I’ve now found a person who did not need prompting to meet my needs. 

Penning my thoughts for the ‘gram, I hoped to encourage my friends that the right person would come at the right time. Sharing my personal growth on my Instagram Story was a norm when I completed my reflections because you never know who needs to hear it at that moment. I’ve had friends reply saying that they felt supported, even if we’ve not talked in a while, because of an experience I went through and wrote about. 

Confession: In my relationship with Stephen, I was far from the perfect girlfriend. I was extremely clingy and anxious. Sometimes, I lacked the critical thinking to navigate our disagreements with a neutral approach – something I hoped he would work TOGETHER with me on, instead of using it against me.

So when he reached out over text about how he thought my posts could ruin his reputation, I froze. Stephen didn’t take too kindly to what I had posted and insisted that it could be linked to him. However, it was a, my own opinion and b, solely focused on my relationship experience with no identifiable detail other than a pseudonym I used to conceal his identity. Most of my friends weren’t aware of who Stephen was and the relationship since I had kept us on the down low.

The reaction was unsurprising. During our year-long relationship, I was constantly told, “I am the best (guy) you are ever gonna get”. This notion validated the insecurity I’ve felt for a greater portion of my life; that I could never be desired or loved. His negative actions towards me could always be justified, but my moments of failure were detrimental. 

To help paint a picture of what this looked like in the relationship, I would be pulled away from my tasks for two hours or more to assist with his projects. But when it was my turn to ask for quality time, he would criticise me for being inconsiderate of his busy schedule.  I rarely felt like an equal, but a supporting character for the Stephen Show. 

His case of slander, according to the law firms I had (desperately) consulted, had no claim or foundation since he was unidentifiable. Knowing this assured yet angered me. I was suddenly responsible for his emotions and victimising, much like Nora Lee who was sued for $3 million in 2023 over friendzoning a male friend, citing “emotional trauma”.

Is sharing a personal story online ethical?

I considered the possibility that I might have been oversharing on social media. In this commentary piece by Vox, a study showed that my reflection better suited a platform like TikTok. The same piece validates my posting too, where Ysabel Gerrard, a senior lecturer in digital communication at the University of Sheffield, mentioned that every individual interacts with each social platform differently. While I have taken a more intimate approach to my Instagram content, Stephen might have felt that an invasion of his privacy and that he would be easily identified. 

Oversharing or trauma dumping has been normalised on TikTok, slowly trickling its way to Instagram Reels. YouTube culture has also seen this phenomenon with vlogs and other topical content. It has its positives, though. One TikTok user shared her experience of being cyber stalked and harassed by a man, prompting many women to share their experiences and how they navigated the situation in the comment section. Such content allows solidarity among those who are oppressed in their romantic relationships and raises awareness of the struggles faced by thousands of people. 

More than that, people want to share their stories, and most of us want to read or hear them just as much. These stories help us experience second-hand just how complex and complicated people are, and who or what we should avoid in our personal lives. Even things that are acceptable now, might be questioned in the future, allowing for tangible change and growth.

On the flip side, we see how oversharing can lead to irreversible reputational damage. In 2021, when Singaporean influencer Koh Boon Ki created a Telegram for girls and women to share their negative dating experiences, it encouraged members to expose the personal details of the men they matched on dating apps and a personal review. In such mass groups, it’s difficult to control the rapid response and reactions of other members who would only have access to one perspective – and that happened. Eventually, spreadsheets were created to note down all the profiles shared in the group, and were categorised into “blacklist” or “avoid”. 

Personally, I don’t think there is an issue entirely about oversharing on social media, but there needs to be discernment from viewers that one side of the story is not the absolute truth, which was not exercised in the Telegram chat. 

Stephen felt I was a burdensome partner — despite my daily commutes to his place, my offers to drive him to complete errands, and changing the way I look — because he thought he had lost time and energy just from being in a relationship with me. My misplaced assurance in him also gave me a blind post when it came to the burdens I took on  – losing my identity to become an easygoing partner, all with little commitment to change on his part. 

The end of the saga

Stephen and I talked it out and eventually agreed that I would not use the “damaging” moniker in any of my posts and we have cut communications since. In the aftermath of this tumultuous episode, I discovered an undeniable truth—the resonance of our stories. 

Navigating the terrain of sharing our personal lives on public platforms is akin to threading into the eye of a needle. One needs to be careful to achieve introspection, empathy, and an understanding of the multifaceted nature of our narratives. It's understanding that while our stories might resonate, they needn't expose every intimate detail of a situation, a skill I have carved for myself after the whole affair.

If I were offered the choice to go back in time, I would still share my story, only with more discretion because I now carry with me the understanding that the wisdom of our stories possesses an intrinsic power worth sharing with the world. I’m doing the same thing now, but with a heightened awareness that my experience was valid, with the hope to once again encourage women to know the same.