My Girlfriend Secretly Sabotaged My Life for Years—Then I Found Her Plan

For two and a half years, I thought I had a supportive girlfriend who stood by me through job losses, complaints, and strange accusations. Every time I got fired, Rosalie was there, comforting me and telling me things would be okay.

But after countless jobs and a mysterious string of bad reviews, I began to question whether someone was deliberately ruining my life. The horrifying truth came out when I discovered that the person responsible for all my misery was my girlfriend.

It all started when I was 24, fresh out of school, taking on any job I could find to build my resume and gain experience. I had no idea my life was about to spiral. Rosalie and I met when I was in between jobs. She seemed perfect—kind, understanding, always there when I was struggling.

She was my rock. Every time I got fired, she was the one to comfort me, telling me that it wasn’t my fault and that these places didn’t deserve me. I believed her.

But the firings became frequent. First, I lost my job at the café after an angry customer left a review accusing me of being rude and inattentive. I couldn’t even remember the incident. Then, at the bookstore, someone used the employee Wi-Fi under my name to search some questionable things online, leading to my termination.

It was the same story at every job—complaints, strange accusations, mysterious bad reviews. Rosalie was always there, telling me it was just bad luck. But after the fourth job, I started to wonder if someone had it out for me.

Fast forward to two months ago—I’d just started working at a bakery. Things were finally looking up. But one day, my manager pulled me aside. “Hey, have you seen this review?” she asked, holding her phone. The look on her face told me it was serious.

I read the review and my heart sank. The person described me in detail and accused me of being lazy and rude, saying I made customers feel uncomfortable. The username caught my eye: *Mick Myrtle.* It sounded fake, almost like a joke, but it wasn’t funny. My manager believed me when I told her it was all lies, but the sinking feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away. I knew someone was targeting me.

Later that evening, Rosalie and I were sitting in the living room, chatting like we always did. She was so calm, smiling, asking about my day. But I didn’t mention the review. I’d stopped telling her about every little thing because she’d heard it all before. I didn’t want to burden her anymore.

As we talked, her phone buzzed. She didn’t seem to notice, so I glanced at it out of habit. The notification read: “Mick Myrtle: Manager has responded to your review.”

I froze. Time seemed to slow down. My brain struggled to process what I had just seen. The same *Mick Myrtle* who left the review at my job… was her? My heart started pounding, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. I excused myself and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, my hands shaking.

“No, it can’t be,” I whispered to myself. “There’s no way she would do this to me.” But deep down, something inside me was screaming that it made sense. Every complaint, every review, every little thing that had gone wrong in my life—Rosalie had been there, comforting me, but what if she was behind it all?

The next few days were a blur. I didn’t confront her immediately—I needed proof. On Monday, I told her I wanted to visit my dad and asked for access to her booking account to book a train ticket. She didn’t hesitate, handed me her phone, and went to take a shower. This was my chance. My hands shook as I navigated through her emails, feeling like a spy in my own life.

Then, I found it. Buried deep in her inbox, an email she had sent to herself with a spreadsheet attached. I clicked it open, and what I saw made my stomach churn. It was like reading the blueprint of my own destruction.

The spreadsheet contained everything—my work schedules, passwords, names of my colleagues, their social media accounts, and, worst of all, fake usernames she had used to leave those awful reviews and complaints about me. Each row was meticulously organized, detailing the ways she had sabotaged me at each job.

I sat there, numb, staring at the screen, my mind racing. Why would she do this? How long had she been plotting to ruin me? The woman I loved, who I thought loved me, had been the one tearing my life apart all along.

When she left for work, I packed my bags. I wasn’t going to wait for an explanation—I couldn’t. The betrayal was too deep. I left her a note that simply read, “I know what you’ve done. It’s over.”

I went straight to my dad’s house, feeling like a fugitive. The moment I arrived, I broke down in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I told him everything. “Why would she do this, Dad? What did I ever do to deserve this?” I cried. He didn’t have any answers, but he was there for me. That night, he slept on the couch in the guest room because I was so terrified that Rosalie might come after me.

We called the police, hired a lawyer, and I started therapy. The days that followed were the worst of my life. I was a wreck—couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight. My therapist told me that the manipulation and gaslighting I had endured for years had taken a toll on my mental health. I was scared of everything. I felt like my whole life had been a lie.

In the end, we decided not to take Rosalie to court. It was too much. The thought of facing her in a courtroom was more than I could handle. I needed to focus on healing, not revenge. Through therapy, I found some closure. I changed all my passwords, moved houses, and cut her out of my life completely.

Now, two years later, I’m in a better place. I’ve rebuilt my life. I’ve got a stable job, and I’m still working through the trauma, but I haven’t had a panic attack in months. I don’t know what Rosalie is doing now, and frankly, I don’t care. She can stay in the past, where she belongs.

But every now and then, when I see a bad review pop up online or hear someone complain about work, I can’t help but wonder—what if?

This story is based on a true story. All the names in the story have been changed.