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A few months have passed since everything happened, and I’ve been struggling internally ever since. I wanted to lay it all out clearly, because I still find myself replaying it and questioning what I experienced.
I’m a 23-year-old woman, and at the time I had a best friend – let’s call her Bernice (35F). We were incredibly close. We worked together through long hours and awful weather, leaned on each other constantly, and had what I believed was a solid support system. We had both survived deeply abusive relationships. When my own relationship became so bad that I was essentially driven out of my home, her couch became my bed for months. We weren’t just friends—we were sisters in every way except blood.
Things started to change when Bernice introduced me to a guy named Trevor (23M). He had been going through a rough period in his life and talked a lot about wanting to get back on track. He had been incarcerated briefly, which didn’t bother me, and he seemed focused on leaving his past behind. We started talking over text and video chat, and I felt a connection growing.
It’s important to mention that Bernice was very close to Trevor’s family. She had actually babysat him when he was a child
Image credits: Marisa Howenstine (not the actual photo)
Still, he was my age, we shared a love of books and music, and we spent hours talking about life, mistakes, and healing. I hadn’t been in a relationship for nearly three years before this, largely because I was still recovering from past abuse. I was – and still am – healing from experiences where I was humiliated, laughed at, and made to feel unsafe in my own home. I lived in a constant state of anxiety, getting physically sick at the thought of going back to places that weren’t safe. That trauma stayed with me.
After about a month of talking, we finally planned to meet in person at Bernice’s house. I was nervous but excited. I brought him a book by his favorite author, along with another book from my own shelf that I thought he’d enjoy. When I walked in, he was genuinely handsome and immediately comfortable around Bernice’s kids, which made sense since he’d known her since he was about six.
But things started to feel off quickly.
When I came out of the bathroom, Bernice was sitting on his lap, laughing like it was completely normal
Image credits: Alexander Mass (not the actual photo)
My stomach dropped instantly. Later, while they were cooking dinner, they both hugged me at the same time – him from the front and her from behind. I froze and pulled away. My anxiety spiked, and that gut feeling told me something wasn’t right. The lap-sitting alone already felt inappropriate, and everything after that just made it worse.
I went into the bedroom alone to calm myself down. Eventually, Trevor joined me.
We joked around, he tickled me, and for a moment it felt light again
Image credits: Velizar Ivanov (not the actual photo)
I tried to ignore the discomfort building in my chest. But then Bernice came in and, without warning, took off her shirt in front of both of us – no bra, nothing. I’ll admit I’m smaller-chested and already self-conscious, but this wasn’t about comparison. It felt blatantly disrespectful, and it left a bad taste in my mouth.
When I get overwhelmed, my survival response is to shut down. I go quiet. If someone touches me, I grow cold without even meaning to. That’s exactly what happened. But the final straw came at bedtime.
Trevor got into bed without any clothes on, positioned right between Bernice and me – in her bedroom. I stayed fully clothed, already deeply uncomfortable. A few minutes later, Bernice left the room and returned wearing nothing but her panties. No shirt. No bra. Nothing else.
So there I was, lying next to a guy I liked, while he cuddled me on his left and cuddled his former babysitter on his right
Image credits: Alexandra Leru (not the actual photo)
They were giggling, shifting around, completely wrapped up in each other. At one point, I heard him say to her, “You keep doing that and I’m going to have to tie you up.” Something inside me shattered.
I made an excuse to get a drink and never went back to the bedroom.
I slept on the couch and left them alone together. In the middle of the night, Bernice texted me, insisting that it wasn’t what it looked like and that she would never do something like that.
What made it worse was that she had previously told me Trevor had tried to get with her in the past and that she had turned him down
Image credits: Alexander Grey (not the actual photo)
Her words didn’t match her actions at all.
I also need to explain why this situation affected me so deeply. When I was about 18, I witnessed someone being assaulted in their sleep. When I was younger – around nine years old – I was assaulted myself by an adult man while other children were in the room. Those experiences left me with severe anxiety and PTSD. Being trapped in that bed, surrounded by blurred boundaries, triggered all of that trauma. I wanted to leave immediately – but I didn’t. And I regret that.
The next morning, Trevor left for work. I went out for coffee with Bernice and Trevor’s sister. I barely spoke.
During the conversation, Bernice casually mentioned that Trevor had wanted to cuddle her that morning and that she told him no
Image credits: Iylia Fariza (not the actual photo)
I didn’t confront her. I was emotionally numb.
A day or two later, Trevor started blowing up my phone. He called me petty and childish, told me I needed to let the past go, and accused me of overreacting. He said Bernice had been crying to him, worried she might lose me as a friend over something I had “imagined.”
He also criticized me for sleeping on the couch, saying it was silly, and insisted it was ridiculous to think she would ever do anything inappropriate
Image credits: Zac Durant (not the actual photo)
On top of that, he casually mentioned that he always slept in her bed naked, and added that if he had wanted her, he already would have.
I responded defensively at first, saying that if he wanted to “keep it in the family,” that was his choice – but it wasn’t mine. But during the argument, I shut down completely. I started agreeing with him and telling him whatever he wanted to hear, because that’s what I had learned to do in my previous abusive relationship. I had been gaslit so badly before that I genuinely started questioning my sanity. I was pushed to the edge mentally, to the point where I was afraid of what I might do to myself.
The last things I remember were Bernice saying she would never set me up with someone she wanted for herself, then later texting that I had left my watch at her house. I didn’t respond.
It’s been about three months now. I haven’t spoken to either of them. I changed my number, and thankfully, I no longer live in that town. What hurt the most wasn’t Trevor – it was Bernice. When someone you love betrays you and then gaslights you into believing nothing happened, it cuts deeper than anything else.
I’m still trying to make sense of it all.
So, AITA for removing myself from the situation, sleeping on the couch, and eventually cutting both of them out of my life after feeling disrespected and unsafe?
Or did I overreact and misinterpret their behavior?
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