How far would you go to meet someone you’ve matched with on a dating app? Personally, I tend to keep it local, not venturing more than half an hour away. You hear stories of people travelling across the country- matching in London and meeting in Manchester. But, here is a new one for you – have you ever heard of someone flying to a different country to meet you? I thought not, until now.

It all started the day after Valentine’s Day, as I lounged in bed, battling the remnants of a hangover with movies and comfort food, I matched with a guy on Hinge. The timing couldn’t have been better, considering the disappointment of a recent failed romance. The only issue was, that he didn’t live in Bali and he was only here for one night, before heading home to Australia. I was convinced he just wanted a one-night fling and my hangover made me feel like I had been hit by a bus so I wouldn’t meet him.

We continued to chat on Hinge, moved to Instagram and then WhatsApp. He wanted to fly to Bali to meet me. We FaceTimed a few times, just so I could check against the potential pitfalls of online dating—catfishing, not having webbed feet etc. We talked about our futures, and we both agreed we wanted to settle down and he booked a flight to meet me in Bali. Now back to my previous question – how far would you travel to meet a dating app match? This guy flew 5 and a half hours! What a story to tell the grandkids (I thought).

Last week we met for the first time I thought ‘fuck, I can see a future with you’, at that point I knew he was bad news. Falling fast and hard is a familiar pattern for me, and this time was no different. Moving into his villa for the week, and introducing him to my friends, it all seemed like a fairy tale. But fairy tales have their dark twists.

We went out drinking on Saturday and he started to exhibit unsettling behaviour by pulling down my dress in public multiple times and displaying an alarming lack of respect and decency. I was livid. He continued to be a complete twat that night, by posting a picture of his friend’s nipple on my Instagram, adding his picture to my Tinder, calling my mum and reading through my messages. The facade of charisma crumbled, revealing a narcissistic core, shattering my illusions of a perfect match. As you can imagine, I went absolutely psycho at him when we got home. I was very impressed that I kept my cool whilst we were out.

The next morning, he said that I should pack my things and go home. I don’t think he was ever looking to settle down, it was just a fun game. Thinking back, his behaviour was narcissistic. He was so charismatic, over generous and made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. His charm and generosity masked a darker truth when he made me feel stupid for sticking up for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am not perfect. But every action has a reaction.

In the end, it was a hard-earned lesson—a reminder to steer clear of narcissists and prioritise self-respect. Despite the disappointment, every experience, shapes us, guiding us towards greater self-awareness and resilience. So here’s to a future devoid of narcissistic games and filled with genuine connections. No more narcissists, indeed.