Narcissism Is like second-hand smoke — it affects everyone

It took me three months after ending a relationship with a man who spoke exclusively in romance-coded K-drama monologues to realise I had been love-bombed.

- Sarah Stanley

He would often compare his feelings for me to the heavens - how in a galaxy of billions of stars, we were two cosmic bodies fated to collide.

He was intelligent and charismatic, which masked the indulgent romanticism of his silver-tongued spiels. That and the expensive dinner dates and the occasional poem written on scented paper sucked me into a whirlwind romance I was not expecting.

It all crashed and burned at the six-month mark. When I asked why he wanted to end things, he was suddenly lost for words and blurted out a confounding line: "I don't know what you want me to say."

Guess the feelings weren't that celestial after all.

In my post-break-up haze, I spent hours dissecting our full-on-then-abruptly-off dynamic with patient friends, until one of them put a name to what I had experienced: love-bombing.

American clinical psychologist Ramani Durvasula describes love-bombing as "grandiose and attention-getting behaviour that is cinematic and Instagrammable" in her 2019 book, Don't You Know Who I Am?.

She explains that love-bombers are not just hopeless romantics, but they are also strategic. They shower you with grand declarations, gifts or constant attention to create dependency.

Even the small, seemingly sweet gestures - in my case, pet names by the second date, mapping out our entire future by Week 3 - can be a form of control.

Love-bombing is often associated with narcissism, a behaviour characterised by a need for excessive admiration, lack of empathy and an inflated sense of self-importance.

Looking back, there were red flags I should have noticed. But, as they say, everything is easier in hindsight.