WAS IT LOVE BOMBING OR I WAS JUST BEING NAIVE?
Before joining university, I was this 17-year-old who knew nothing about love. I mean, completely nonchalant, antisocial — feelings were a foreign language. Then boom — September came, I enrolled, and for the first time in my life, I left home. Freedom. Or at least a taste of it. I didn’t even have an ID yet, so everything — bank accounts, M-PESA — still read my dad’s name. Funny how grown you feel in campus but still carry pieces of home.
At first, I stayed low-key. But you can only avoid socializing for so long. Eventually, what I feared most started happening — people. Talking. Vibes. First, I got into a relationship. ‘Story for another day’. Then another, a little more serious. But again, my poor communication and cold vibe drove a wedge. And just as that one fizzled out, someone new showed up.
She looked good — I won’t lie. We met when i was doing some group work, started talking, vibed and yeah i asked for her number. We became friends, and then… I started thinking, maybe we could take it a step higher. But did I really want that? Or was I just caught up in the moment?
Our first date was the simplest kind of beautiful. I left my aunt’s place, met up with her in the afternoon, and we went to a park. Nothing fancy — just a bench, cool breezes, Nairobi River swooshing in the background, and music. We shared earphones, explored each other’s playlists, and talked about everything and nothing. At one point, we almost kissed — I felt it. But something told me, “Take it slow.” So I walked her to the bus station, got a hug, and watched her board a matatu. That moment still lives rent-free in my head.
And then things picked up. We went hiking. Carried snacks, explored Nairobi’s green spaces. Took pics holding hands. Got caught at a park past closing time and had to convince the askaris we were lost. YOLO. Ice cream dates. Fries joints. The infamous smocha runs. The meeting point was always Nairobi, even though we lived far apart. It was starting to feel like a relationship. But here’s the thing — we never called it one. So was I leading her on? It felt like love, but I was just a campus student caught in an intense friendship. Or was it more than that?
Festive season came, and I had to go to the village for Christmas. We were pretty close by then — calling, texting, late-night convos. And yeah, we got rained on together once — random memory, but it matters to me. I remember thinking: maybe it’s time we defined what we were. But then again, was I ready? When I brought it up, it led to chaos. She asked me straight up, “Were you love bombing me?”
That question stunned me. Love bombing? I had no idea what to say. In my head, we were just having a “thingy” — vibing, growing close. But I was only 18, barely out of high school. Was I really ready for marriage-level commitment like she thought? We broke it off after that. She drifted. I drifted. But I genuinely thought the friendship would survive. I always believed every strong relationship is built on friendship. But this time, I was wrong. So now I keep asking myself: Was it love bombing?
Let’s pause for a second.
What is love bombing, really? It’s when someone showers you with affection, attention, and gifts, often too fast and too intensely, to win your trust — only to later withdraw or manipulate. It’s usually calculated. But I wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone. I wasn’t planning anything. I didn’t even know what I was doing half the time. So if love bombing is about intention, can someone love bomb unintentionally?
I think what happened was a clash of expectations. I never promised anything serious — but my actions probably said otherwise. And looking back, maybe I should’ve communicated better. Maybe she deserved clarity, not vibes. So again, who was love bombing who? Was it me, unintentionally raising her hopes? Or was she projecting her own hopes onto me, expecting a future I wasn’t ready for?
It’s hard to say. But what I’ve learned is this: relationships — even the undefined ones — come with emotional responsibility. If you’re not ready, say it. If you’re confused, say it. Because sometimes, silence hurts more than rejection. Final thoughts? “Maybe it wasn’t love bombing. Maybe it was just young love — intense, naive, beautiful, and a little bit messy. The kind that teaches you more than it lasts.”
But still… I wonder.
Photo credit: getty images
