By Nikki Hollis, aged 29 and not collecting Bratz dolls
YOU can never know what darkness lies in a male heart, not really. You can think you’ve got the full measure of it, then two years in he comes home with football stickers.
Let me explain. It was the summer of 2024 when I began dating Stephen. Significantly, it was August. He seemed like a lovely guy with only one ex I considered a threat and had to slag off mercilessly at every opportunity.
Yes, he was a Bournemouth fan but that’s quite cute, isn’t it? Gives him a little hobby and one without any women involved, so it’s safe. He mentioned he’d been into the Euros but we all were, England were in the final. I even watched it.
There were no red flags. I had no idea those nondescript spines on his shelves were anything other than bought-but-unplayed vinyl like any normal millennial man. I let him in to my heart, my life, and earlier this year we moved in together.
Then it happened. He came home and without even asking how my day had been, sat down at the table with some sort of… magazine. But a blank one. And a pile of foil-wrapped packets. Did he have an illicit narcotic addiction? No. Far worse.
‘What are those?’ I asked, my heart pounding. ‘Football stickers, babe,’ he replied, as if I was just meant to accept it. ‘The new Panini album. For the World Cup!’
‘Like… like schoolchildren swap, in the playground?’ I asked, my world crumbling around me. ‘Yeah!’ he said. ‘I always collect them all and stick them all in!’ And at that moment, I realised I had been tricked. I was in a two-year relationship not with a man, but a boy.
It’s too late for me. We’re cohabiting and trying for a mortgage. I’m chained to an overgrown child for life. But ladies, watch him this summer and if he even eyes those stickers covetously at the till end it before it’s too late.
