My girlfriend said, “My friends don’t like you, so we need to break up.” I replied, “Good. Then you can join them.” The way they all stared at her after I left told me everything. So my girlfriend, ex-girlfriend now, I guess, just ended our 2-year relationship because her friends don’t like me. And the worst part, I think I’ve been okay with that for months without realizing it. Here’s the background.

I’m Noah. I work in cyber security incident response for a fintech company in San Francisco. Pretty standard tech bro stuff. I analyze security breaches, respond to incidents, write reports. I’m generally a calm person. I don’t do drama. I think things through, and I prefer quiet nights over loud bars. That’s going to be important later.

 My now ex is Katie. She’s a content producer for this increasingly popular podcast called Unapologetically Her. When we started dating two years ago, she was different. We’d go to indie shows, hole-in-the-wall cafes, quiet hikes in Marin. She was thoughtful, introspective, really present. We moved in together about 8 months ago, and things were good. Or so I thought.

 The shift started when the podcast really took off. The host, Regina, is one of those charismatic thought leader types. She’s smart, engaging, has this way of making everything she says sound profound. The podcast is all about modern dating, feminism, boundaries, toxic relationships, that kind of content.

 And as it got more popular, I noticed Katie starting to, I don’t know how to describe it. Raybrand herself. She got more dramatic, started having stronger opinions about things she used to be neutral on, began talking in these podcast friendly sound bites. That should have been my first clue. The friend group is tight. There’s Regina the host, Brooke the editor, Tara works in HR somewhere, and a rotating cast of other women who all live in the mission or Soma.

 They’re constantly talking about red flags, boundaries, toxic energy. which look, I’m all for healthy boundaries, but when every conversation starts sounding like a therapy session mixed with a TED talk, it gets exhausting. I first met them all at a live podcast recording about 6 months ago. Katie wanted me there for support. The episode was about dating in your 30s or something.

 After the show, Regina came up to chat. She asked what I do and when I mentioned cyber security, she literally made a face and said, “So, you’re like corporate surveillance but in a hoodie.” The whole group laughed. I tried to laugh it off, but it stung. That night, they all went to this afterparty at a bar in the Mission. The whole time they were doing this thing where they tell stories about terrible men they dated or heard about, and I’d try to contribute to the conversation, offer some perspective.

 Every time I spoke, I’d get these looks like I was the subject being studied, not part of the group. On the drive home, Katie said, “The girls think you’re emotionally unavailable. They said you don’t share enough.” I was confused because I’d literally spent an hour that night talking about my childhood, my relationship with my parents, work stress.

 But apparently, because I wasn’t crying or being vulnerable in the exact way they expected, I was closed off. That became a pattern. Any small disagreement Katie and I had, and I mean small like, “Should we get Indian or Thai food, would somehow make it onto the podcast, Katie would bring it up to the group, they dissect it, and then I’d hear about it thirdand through passive aggressive comments.

 Regina started calling me data guy on the show, using me as an example of men who try to micromanage your calendar because I’d suggested we plan a trip in advance instead of last minute. It didn’t feel like a relationship anymore. It felt like a case study I hadn’t consented to be in. Here’s where it gets worse. I’m not a big party person.

 I don’t love crowded bars where you can’t hear yourself think. And I’m not into these performative hangouts where everyone’s half engaged and half scrolling Instagram. I suggested to Katie a few times that maybe we could do smaller things, dinner parties, game nights, hiking with one or two couples. She’d agree, but then the friend group would find out and I’d become the controlling boyfriend who was isolating her.

 Every time I didn’t go to one of their events, it would come up on the podcast. If your partner skips girls nights, that’s a red flag. They never said my name, but Katie would come home and be weird with me like she was apologizing to them on my behalf. I tried to play along. I really did. I brought board games to one of their hangouts.

 Everyone was on their phones, half playing, half scrolling tick tock. When I pointed out we should maybe put phones away to actually play, Brooke laughed and said, “This feels like a workshop, not fun.” The whole group agreed. I was trying too hard. So, I was in this impossible position. If I stayed quiet and just existed in the background, I was distant and emotionally unavailable.

If I tried to engage or suggest activities, I was controlling or trying too hard. There was no way to win. A few weeks ago, Katie came home a little tipsy from one of their wine nights. She was scrolling through her phone, laughing at messages. I asked what was funny and she said, “Oh, Regina’s just doing her thing.

” Then she said something that made my stomach drop. She says, “Your word choice in texts is low-key manipulative.” I stopped. “How does Regina know what I text you?” Katie got this look, half guilty, half defensive. She admitted that Regina had been analyzing our text conversations, not just reading them, but breaking them down, pulling out specific phrases I’d used, sharing them in the group chat.

Apparently, they’d even played my voice messages on speaker to analyze my tone. I’m in cyber security. I take privacy seriously. The idea that my private conversations were being dissected by a group of people I barely knew made me feel violated. But when I said that, Katie got defensive.

 They’re just trying to help me see patterns. You’re being paranoid. I let it go because I didn’t want to fight, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. A few days later, Katie left her iPad at home while she went to work. A notification popped up. I wasn’t snooping. It was just there on the screen. It was from their group chat. The preview said, “Clip three.

 Him saying we can do our own thing tonight.” Classic isolation phrase. Clip three. They weren’t just judging me. They were collecting evidence for a story they’d already decided to tell. I didn’t say anything to Katie that day. I needed to think. Part of me wondered if I was overreacting. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how insane it was.

 My girlfriend’s friends were treating our relationship like a research project, and she was letting them. Last night, Katie asked me to meet her at this rooftop bar near where they record the podcast. I knew something was coming. She had that look, the one she gets when she’s rehearsed something. We sat down. She ordered a drink.

 Then she said it, “My friends don’t like you. They think you’re limiting me. I can’t ignore that. We need to break up.” I felt this weird calm wash over me. Not anger, not sadness, just clarity. I looked at her and said, “Good. Then you can join them.” I stood up, paid for both our drinks at the bar, walked over to the table where Regina, Brooke, and Tara were sitting because of course they were there probably recording the whole thing, said, “Nice knowing you all.

” and left. As I was walking out, I glanced back. The three of them were staring at Katie with these expressions I can’t quite describe. Not satisfaction, not happiness, something closer to shock, maybe even discomfort. like they’d pushed a button expecting one thing and got something else entirely.

 Katie looked small sitting there and for the first time in months, her friends weren’t smiling. I’ve been at my buddy’s place since last night. I keep replaying it in my head. The relationship was probably over the moment Katie started valuing their opinions more than her own instincts, but still part of me wonders if I should have fought harder.

 Another part of me feels relieved it’s done. Has anyone else dealt with something like this where your partner’s friends basically run the relationship? I don’t even know what I’m asking. I just needed to write this out. Update one. Posted 2 weeks later. Okay. So, I didn’t expect to post again, but some stuff has happened that I think people following this might want to know about.

 Also, I need to process it somewhere because this has gotten weird. First off, thanks to everyone who commented on my original post. The validation helped more than I expected. A lot of you were right about the recording thing being sketchy, and it turns out it was even worse than I thought. So, about a week after the breakup, I was at work trying to focus on a security incident, and my coworker Jamie came over to my desk.

 She’s 28, super into podcasts, always has earbuds in. She looked uncomfortable and said, “Dude, I need to ask you something weird. Are you the data guy on unapologetically her? My brain buffered for a second. What? She pulled out her phone and played me a clip from their latest episode. It was titled something like when soft control becomes hard boundaries or some buzzword soup like that. And there it was.

 Regina talking about a case study of a man who used subtle isolation tactics to control his girlfriend. She didn’t use my name, but she used exact phrases I’d said word for word. but completely stripped of context edited to sound sinister. The comment section was full of people diagnosing me. Textbook covert narcissist.

 My ex did this exact thing. They were tearing apart a version of me that didn’t exist. I felt sick. Jaime looked at me and said, “If that’s you, you need to know they’re butchering you.” I thanked her and told her I’d handle it. I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m not a lawsuit guy. I just wanted it to stop.

 That night, I couldn’t sleep, so I downloaded the episode and took screenshots of the transcript and comments just in case. I don’t know what I thought I’d do with them, but it felt important to document. 2 days later, I got a DM on Instagram from Brooke, the editor, the one who was always just nodding along with whatever Regina said.

 The message started with, “I’m sorry. I think you should see this.” She sent me screenshots, a lot of them. The first was from their internal Slack, the podcast team’s private workspace. I could see messages from months ago. Regina wrote, “We need a controlling man archetype for next season.” Makes the content relatable. Someone replied asking if they had anyone in mind.

 Rejginina responded, “Katie’s boyfriend is perfect. Quiet, overthinks, doesn’t push back. We can spin that.” There was more. A Google Drive folder titled Noah examples. I felt my hands start shaking. The folder had a list of voice messages I’d sent Katie. Casual stuff. Can we have a quiet night? Just us. If you’re tired, I can pick you up.

 Next to each one, there were notes. Brooke had written on one. He sounds normal here. Regina’s reply. Context. Brooke. It’s about pattern. Pattern. They were building a case against me like I was a suspect. Brooke sent a follow-up message. I’ve been uncomfortable with this for a while. You weren’t the first. She explained that Regina has been doing this for years.

Every guy Katie dated before me got the same treatment, recorded, analyzed, turned into content. Regina would find the villain angle and run with it. The podcast thrived on real life drama, and Katie’s dating life was the fuel. I didn’t know what to say. I just sent back, “Why are you telling me this now?” she replied.

 “Because it finally caught up to them.” Apparently, after they released the episode about me, the comment section split. Some people believed Regina completely, but others, people who knew me indirectly or just had better detectors, started questioning the narrative. This guy sounds pretty normal. Are we sure we’re getting the full story? A few people pointed out that the podcast never interviewed the men they talked about, which was a pretty big red flag for a show that claimed to be about accountability.

One of the podcasts corporate sponsors saw the episode and the comments. They got nervous. If this was defamation, the sponsor could be liable, too. They contacted the media company that produces the podcast and asked for an internal review. The review happened fast. HR dug into how the content was sourced. They found the drive folder.

They found the Slack messages. They found evidence that the team had been recording people, not just me, but other men in the extended friend group without their knowledge and using it for content. That’s illegal in California. Like seriously illegal. Katie got called into HR. She wasn’t the host, but she was directly involved.

 She’d been feeding her relationship to the show. They gave her an option. Resign voluntarily or be terminated for cause. She took the mutual separation. Regina got suspended pending further investigation. The sponsor pulled funding. The podcast went on hiatus, citing restructuring. Brooke told me all of this over a series of messages.

 She sounded genuinely remorseful. She said she’d been uncomfortable for months, but didn’t speak up because Regina was her boss and the podcast was her job. She was afraid of being cut out, becoming the next target. I get it, I guess. Doesn’t make it right, but I get it. I sat with that information for a few days. I didn’t feel happy.

 I didn’t feel vindicated. I just felt tired. This whole thing, Katie, the friend group, the podcast, it wasn’t a relationship. It was content farming. They turned real people into characters, real conversations into episodes. And when the characters stopped being useful, they got written out. I haven’t heard from Katie directly.

 Part of me wonders if she’s okay. Another part of me thinks she made her choice when she let her friends dictate our relationship. Either way, I’m not reaching out. I did respond to Brooke. I told her I appreciated her coming forward even if it was late. She said she’s looking for other work. Regina’s reputation in the SF media scene is tanking and Brooke doesn’t want to go down with the ship.

 Someone in the comments on my original post said the trash took itself out. I didn’t fully believe it then. I think I do now. Edit: A lot of people are asking if I’m going to sue. Honest answer, I don’t know. I talked to a lawyer friend who said I probably have a case for invasion of privacy, maybe defamation if I could prove damages, but litigation is expensive, time-consuming, and emotionally draining.

 Right now, I just want to move on. The podcast is dead in the water anyway. That feels like enough. Update two. I wasn’t planning on posting again, but the last few weeks have been a lot. So, here we are. Buckle up because this gets messier before it gets better. About two weeks ago, I got a text from Katie.

 Just can we talk? I owe you an apology. Coffee. I didn’t respond right away. Part of me wanted closure. Another part thought it was a terrible idea. I did agree eventually. We met at this cafe in Hayes Valley that we used to go to back when things were good. She looked rough, tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping well.

 We sat down and before I could even say anything, she started, “I’m so sorry. I need you to know that.” She told me she’d been going to therapy. She’d been forced to confront a lot of stuff about herself, about Regina, about how she’d let her entire sense of reality get filtered through other people’s opinions. She said when the podcast fell apart and she lost her job, she didn’t just lose income.

 She lost her identity, the friend group fractured, no one was talking to Regina. Brooke and Tara were distant. The whole ecosystem that had defined Katie’s life for years just collapsed. She admitted that at first she’d been happy with me, really happy. But Regina kept saying things like, “He’s dulling your edge and you’re more interesting when you’re angry.

” Every time Katie would tell a story about us having a nice quiet weekend, Regina would find a way to reframe it as a warning sign. That’s isolation. That’s control. And because Regina was so confident, so articulate, Katie started believing it. I pulled out my phone and showed her the screenshots Brooke had sent me. Katie’s face went pale.

 She said Regina had told her they were just taking notes for the show, nothing invasive. She had no idea there was a full folder dedicated to breaking me down. There was this long silence. Then she said, “I didn’t lose you because of who you are. I lost you because I needed an audience more than I needed a partner.

” It hit me then how sad the whole thing was. Katie wasn’t a villain. She was just someone who got so caught up in validation from the podcast, from Regina, from the online audience that she forgot how to trust her own judgment. I told her I appreciated the apology, but that we couldn’t go back. Too much had happened. She nodded.

 She’d expected that. We finished our coffee and parted ways. I thought that was the end of it. I really did. Then about a week ago, I got another message from Brooke. This time, the message just said, “You need to see this. I don’t even know what to say.” She sent me screenshots again, but these were different. Much different.

 When Regina was forced out of the podcast, the parent media company did a full audit of her work accounts before wiping them. It cloned her laptop to make sure there wasn’t any other legally questionable content. And they found something. A folder buried deep in her personal files labeled letters. M.

 Inside that folder were dozens of documents, letters, journal entries, notes, all written by Regina to Katie. Except Katie had never seen them. They were drafts, confessions, things Regina had written but never sent. And the contents were, honestly, I don’t even know how to describe it. One of the early letters dated 7 years ago, right around when Regina and Katie first became close, said, “I’ve been in love with you since junior year.

 I know you don’t see me that way, and I’ve made peace with it, but I need you to know that no man will ever understand you the way I do.” There were more years of letters. In one, Regina outlined how she’d subtly undermined Katie’s previous relationships. She’d take something a boyfriend said, twist it just enough, and then present it to Katie as a red flag.

 She’d manufacture drama for the podcast, sure, but it wasn’t just about content. It was about keeping Katie single, keeping Katie close. The one about me was the worst. Regina wrote, “He’s the most dangerous one. She’s too calm around him. She laughs without performing. She doesn’t feel the need to be on when they’re together.

 If I don’t do something, she’ll leave. Not just me. She’ll leave the show, the life we built, everything. I can’t let that happen. So that’s what this was. It wasn’t about protecting Katie from toxic men. It was about protecting Regina’s access to Katie. Every boyfriend, every relationship, Regina saw them as threats.

 and she used the podcast, the friend group, the whole social justice framework as a weapon to eliminate those threats. She dressed up obsession and control as concern and feminism. Brooke forwarded all of this to Katie, and Katie, to her credit, confronted Regina directly. I wasn’t there, but Brooke told me what went down.

 Katie showed up at Regina’s apartment and demanded an explanation. Regina initially tried to play it off as creative writing, like it was fiction or a podcast idea she’d never used. Katie pulled up one of the letters on her phone and read it out loud. If I have to burn every bridge to keep her, I will. Regina broke down.

 She admitted it, all of it. She said she loved Katie and had for years. She said she couldn’t help it that every time Katie got serious with someone, it felt like losing her. Katie left. She called Brooke, Tara, and the others and told them everything. The friend group imploded. None of them had known Regina was in love with Katie.

 When they realized they’d been weaponized, used as tools to isolate Katie from any real relationship, most of them couldn’t deal with it. Brooke and Tara tried to stay close to Katie at first, but even that was strained. Too much damage, too much betrayal. Within a couple of weeks, everyone had just kind of drifted apart. So now Katie’s lost me, her job, and her entire friend group.

 And she’s having to confront the fact that for almost a decade, her closest friend was manipulating her, sabotaging her relationships, and using a progressive feminist podcast as cover. It’s honestly one of the bleakest things I’ve ever heard. I haven’t talked to Katie directly since the cafe meeting, and I don’t plan to. I feel bad for her.

 I really do. But I also can’t fix this. She has to figure out who she is without Regina’s voice in her head. That’s not my job. As for me, I’m doing okay. I moved to a different apartment closer to where I work. I’m hiking more, spending time with actual friends who don’t analyze my word choice like I’m a suspect in a crime.

 I even went on a date last weekend. Nothing serious, just coffee. But it felt good to talk to someone who didn’t have an agenda. I keep thinking about that night at the rooftop bar when Katie said her friends didn’t like me. At the time, it felt like a betrayal. Now I see it differently. Her friends didn’t like me because I was pulling her away from the narrative they needed.

 I wasn’t a bad boyfriend. I was just bad for their content. And honestly, I’m fine with that. Edit: Holy the response to this update. A few clarifications. Yes, Regina’s behavior is absolutely stalker level obsessive. Some of you suggested Katie should get a restraining order. I don’t know if she has, but I hope she’s protecting herself.

 To the people asking if I’ll ever talk to Katie again, probably not. I wish her well, but we’re done. Final update. Hey everyone, it’s been almost 9 months since my first post. I honestly thought my last update would be the end of this, but some things have happened recently, and a few of you have been messaging me asking if I’m still alive. Yes.

 So, here’s where things are now. I’ll try to keep this shorter than the others. First, the big news. About 3 weeks ago, I got an email from Katie. Subject line, no need to respond, just needed to say this. I almost deleted it without reading, but curiosity got the better of me. It was long, really long. She told me she’d left San Francisco entirely.

 She moved to Portland about 5 months ago, is working freelance social media for small local businesses. Nothing big, nothing public facing. She said she’s been in therapy twice a week and cut off all contact with Regina, completely blocked on everything. The restraining order came after Regina completely spiraled. After Katie confronted her about the letters, Regina started showing up places at Katie’s apartment building at 200 a.m.

 at the coffee shop where Katie did her freelance work. She sent hundreds of texts from different numbers after being blocked. The breaking point was when Regina drove 6 hours to Katie’s parents’ house in Sacramento, showed up crying, saying she just needed to make Katie understand. They were meant to be together.

 Katie’s dad had to physically block the door while her mom called the police. The restraining order was granted immediately given the documented pattern of escalation, though the email was mostly her taking accountability. She said she’d spent months in therapy dissecting how she let Regina control her perception of reality, how she’d outsourced her decision making to a group of people who didn’t actually have her best interests at heart.

 She admitted that when we were together, she’d been happy, genuinely happy, but she kept questioning it because Regina told her happiness without struggle wasn’t authentic. The part that got me was when she wrote, “You were never controlling. You were never emotionally unavailable, but I let someone else narrate our relationship for me, and I’m so sorry. I failed you.

You deserve better than that. She said she wasn’t asking me to forgive her or to respond. She just needed me to know she understood finally what she’d done. I read it twice. Then I showed it to Elina. Oh, right, Elina. That’s the other big update. About 4 months ago, I met someone. Her name’s Elina.

 She’s a product designer. Lives in my building. We kept running into each other in the gym. Awkward head nods, polite hey s. One day she asked if I wanted to grab coffee after a workout and I said yes. No expectations, just coffee. We’ve been dating for 3 months now. It’s been I don’t know how to describe it. Easy.

 She has friends, a full life, hobbies, but none of it involves turning her personal life into content. When I told her in very vague terms about what happened with Katie, she just said, “That sounds exhausting. I’m here now. Let’s build something that’s just hours. We cook together. We go hiking. We have movie nights where we actually watch the movie instead of scrolling phones.

 I know that sounds boring to some people, but after everything that happened, boring feels like a gift. I’m not walking on eggshells wondering if something I say will end up dissected in a group chat. I’m not being graded on my emotional availability. I’m just existing with someone who likes me as I am. Last weekend, we drove down to Big Su for the weekend.

 No agenda, no itinerary, just us and the ocean. Alina took a photo of me on the cliffs and said, “You look different than when we first met. Lighter.” I realized she was right. I do feel lighter. I didn’t notice the weight I’d been carrying until it was gone. As for the Katie email, I did respond eventually. I kept it short. Thank you for this.

 I’m glad you’re in a better place. I wish you well. That was it. I didn’t reopen the door. Didn’t invite further conversation. Alina read it before I sent it and just nodded. Sounds like she’s finally in a place where she can face herself. That’s good for her. I haven’t heard back. I don’t expect to. That chapter’s closed. So, what happened to everyone else? Brooke messaged me a few months ago.

 She found a new job editing for a true crime podcast completely unrelated to the lifestyle dating space. She said she’s done with that world. Regina tried to relaunch the podcast under a new name, but it didn’t gain traction. Word got around about what happened. Sponsors won’t touch her. Last I heard, she’d moved back to her hometown somewhere in the Midwest.

 The original podcast, unapologetically her, is just dead. The website’s still up, but hasn’t been updated in almost a year. The social media accounts went silent. It’s like it never existed. I’ve thought a lot about what that whole experience taught me. I used to think I was being judged for who I was. Too boring, too calm, too unavailable.

 But the reality is I was being judged for not fitting into their story. I wasn’t dramatic enough, reactive enough, damaged enough to be good content. And when I didn’t play the role they’d cast me in, they tried to force me into it. Here’s the thing, though. The qualities they labeled as problems, being calm, thinking before reacting, preferring depth over performance, those are the things that make my relationship with Alina work.

She doesn’t need me to be a character. She doesn’t need our fights to have narrative arcs. She just needs me to show up and be present. I’m in a good place now. Better than good. I found someone who values privacy, authenticity, and building something real instead of performing something sharable.