Riding Solo with a Twitch

Riding Solo with a Twitch

by Madi A. 03/2026

After years of being a single mom, one night Kara sat at her computer trying to get some work done. She steered away from her tasks and uploaded a common dating app. After carefully observing her possible matches, she questioned why she had even signed up. So many guys had only photos of dogs, fishing, hunting, quads, and snowmobiles instead of showcasing themselves, with only a few rambled words of description. She thought, " This isn't my style at all." She was active, outgoing, and out at every opportunity with friends, her teenage children, and relatives.

In her circle, no one truly fit her style. Was it that she was simply content with herself in this busy, crazy world? In hindsight, years later, she realized that it was.

She had married young, a marriage that failed after seven years of struggling. Eleven years later, she was divorced, a single mom with three dependent children, living four hundred kilometers south of home. Life began at 30.

Nothing could stop her. She was ambitious, resourceful, and eager to give her children the best life possible. They didn't have the best brands, but they were always happy, dressed to impress, and together. First, she found her way back home. Then, she enrolled at the local college and built a career that would allow her to raise her children in a happy home. Her main focus was always her children.

By this time, she was in her forties. One day, after a long day of work, skating, dancing, and hockey, she retired to a quiet moment for herself. She logged into her dating app, scrolling mindlessly. There was a message from Kyle. She noticed that while he had very little to say in his profile, he had good writing skills in his message. Just a few texts were exchanged that first night. Weeks went by before another message arrived. Meanwhile, in hushed conversations among coworkers, she heard about other dating apps and registered on two more, just because. It seemed to be the same group on every app. She received another message from Kyle on one of the new sites. His text said, Are you stalking me? Kara stared at the screen, insulted. She wasn't stalking anyone; she was just navigating the same limited pond as everyone else. She logged out and didn't look at the apps for weeks. She was too busy to entertain that type of leisure. She “check-marked” this one as a no.

Eventually, during a rare moment of quiet, she returned to the first app. A message from Kyle pinged through. She was still feeling prickly from his last text. Was he a bully or just a stirrer? But as she read his new words, she reconsidered. Maybe it was just bad humor, a clumsy opening move in what he seemed to view as a cat-and-mouse game. If he was looking for a chase, she wasn't sure she had the energy, but she decided to entertain the connection to see where the mouse was headed. They began to text for weeks.

Kyle and Kara finally met. Even though many frowned upon the source, according to Kyle, it was a cat-and-mouse game; for Kara, it was just a dating app. Finally, she was comfortable enough to accept an invitation for coffee at the local Tim Hortons.

Kara was not a coffee drinker, but it was a common, public area. She arrived early and ordered a peppermint tea. As she sat there, she felt confident this would be a quick, quiet meet. She noticed a truck pull up, and as he stepped out, she thought, he looks exactly like his photo. That was a huge bonus. That was a “check.”

As he walked in, he observed the room and eyed her table. He ordered a drink and joined her. The sharp, roasted aroma of his coffee eclipsed the delicate, cooling scent of her tea. She stood and extended a hand for a professional handshake, stating her name. It was her way of setting boundaries; to enter her circle, a level of respect had to be achieved. There was a calculated method to her boundaries. He introduced himself and sat down. As a bold icebreaker, her first comment was, "So, which one of us is the cat?" She anticipated a laugh or a frown that would determine the rest of the meet.

He started laughing, taking a moment to think. She guessed the words in a text were quick to type, but real words weren't so easily spoken. There was an awkward pause. He then commented on her drink not being coffee. The conversation steered from there. It was a quiz of memory, what was exchanged in prior texts versus the conversation at hand. So far, they both passed. That was another “check.”

They talked about tea vs. coffee, trucks vs. cars, and work. She was a full-time salaried corporate administrator; he was a full-time hourly unionized mining employee. His comment about her being a company admin was a little offensive, but she didn't reply. They both had good-paying jobs. She “check-marked” it.

Next was their busy schedules. He was on a seven-day rotation; she worked Monday to Friday. They were both single parents of three children each. It was apparent that challenges lay ahead. Knowing this explained the weeks of texting before the meet. The conversation ended with a casual vibe. Another coffee meet was left open-ended. They strolled toward their vehicles, saying, "See you soon."

She reflected on that first impression. It was good, but it wasn't fireworks; it was guarded. The physical attraction mirrored the online profile, which was a check. At the end, they were two cautious parents navigating busy lives, looking for what was next.

She didn't think much more about it. It was a “let's see” possibility. Days turned into weeks. They blended back into their existing lives, planning a few more Tim Hortons meets. One striking difference was that his drink shifted from coffee to tea. He explained that coffee was a morning work thing, but he preferred tea on his off days. The next text read, Would you like to meet for “_e_” on Thursday? As she read it, she chuckled and replied, Yes, tea would be great!

After a few more "tea" meets, the first official date was planned: dinner on a Saturday night at a nice Italian restaurant. He picked her up on time, another “check.” He was the perfect gentleman: thoughtful, polished, and chivalrous. He made her feel like the most important person in the room by being present and secure. This was an added “check.”

More dates followed. Kyle changed his work shifts to a more flexible four-day rotation. “Check.” Eventually, they explored their shared passion for motorcycles. It had been her dream since she was a young girl, but life had intervened. That spring, Kyle passed his M2 and bought his first bike. That summer, he often picked her up as a passenger. It seemed they had found a common passion. Was it a building block for the long term? She wasn't sure, but it was another “check.”

That summer, they became a committed couple. They rode in poker runs and fundraisers. Even though she enjoyed riding, she felt a small pull from wanting to spend time with her family. As summer ended, they planned for Christmas, another shared passion. They didn’t just host a dinner; she provided the social capital he used to build his reputation. That Christmas, he gifted her a motorcycle. It was a small, used starter bike.

The relationship shifted from logistical check-marking to a genuine partnership built on shared passions. The bike was a symbol of freedom, an invitation to an adventure together. Kara will always remember the spring she got her M2. Riding side-by-side with Kyle was a mystical, magical time.

For years, their lives evolved around "Biker Life." While the social interaction gave them a sense of belonging, she was the backbone behind the logistics. It was time-consuming to balance these activities while keeping family and work in order. Eventually, they decided to blend their homes.

Kara's children were grown, but Kyle had one left in high school. Kara had always lived for her children and found it difficult to accept responsibility for someone else's child in a home they were building together. She had already raised three alone and was unsure if she wanted to be part of his plan. Thinking it would be short-lived, she accepted. They sold their homes and bought one together.

They built a life yet stayed independent. The blended family grew to include partners and grandchildren. Christmas plans started in August, finalized on Christmas Eve with a yearly Réveillon. They hosted monthly family meals for twenty. As they planned these, it became apparent they were more "for show" than for the family itself, but she persisted for her children.

Kyle’s motorcycle passion expanded into a small business. Kara’s sewing and design business was busier than ever. She became the main contact for his business while he did the manual work. Soon after, they invested in a triplex. They were power partners: entrepreneurs and landlords. It often seemed the work was a burden to him; she had to remind him that the investment would be plentiful once the work was done.

From coffee meets to a mini-empire, they had the perfect life. Kyle had health hiccups requiring surgery; she supported him through thick and thin. Eight years in, Kara began having issues with a new manager. She took mental health days to stay healthy.

That long-lost "checkmark" from eight years ago, the union vs. corporate mentality, surfaced as a major issue. One day, it all came tumbling down. Alone at her desk, she felt numbness on the left side of her face, arm, and leg. She was diagnosed with Bell’s palsy. Stress was the trigger. This wasn't just burnout; it was a physical scream of enough!

During her recovery, Kyle and a friend convinced her to go on long-term disability, citing the gaslighting she faced at work. Eight months later, Kyle came home and announced he was "done." When she asked, "Done with what?" he replied, "We are done. I never signed up for a stay-at-home partner."

It was a sudden, unilateral decision. That devastating comment stripped away years of labor, caregiving, and empire-building. Her value was redefined as a "utility." She became a "stay-at-home burden."

The question remained: how could someone so self-sufficient fall into a narcissist's trap? Narcissists don’t look for people who need them; they look for "supply", high-value assets to upgrade their own status. They need a strong host with a deep well of empathy to host their emotional parasitism.

With a twitch in her eye, she sees how subtle the changes were. They mirror you, taking interest in your passions until they become "your best partner." They slowly shift the workload onto you, making it look like they are "helping" you manage the structure you actually built. She was the labor, the logistics, and the social capital. She gave him a ready-made community.

The unmasking happened when a legal adjudicator removed him from a courtroom and handed the landlord responsibilities solely to her. He was sabotaging the empire with his bad behavior. He needed a powerhouse to carry his weight, and when she was no longer able to be the "sole contact" for his chaos, she became a liability. He didn't want a partner; he wanted a functional resource at 100% capacity. When she hit 0%, he discarded the tool.

Why her? Because of her high-value assets. He wanted to harvest them. He defined her as a "stay-at-home partner" to feel superior, but the evidence proves she was the architect of everything he had.

The decade of a perfect life she curated, the triplex, the family milestones, the hard-won motorcycle kilometers, was never a partnership of equals; it was a masterclass in resource extraction. She looks back now at her mental ledger, at all those diligent "checks" she made in the beginning.

She was so careful to verify his punctuality, his kindness, and his shared passions. She realizes now that she saw the red flags, the "stalking" comment, the "corporate innuendos", and she "check-marked" them, too. But at the time, two small marks didn't seem like enough to alarm a woman used to managing a crisis. She thought the good boxes outweighed the bad. She didn't see that those two marks were the cracks that would eventually crumble the foundation.

The twitch in her eye, which lingered long after the mini-empire dissolved, was not a mark of her failure, but the final, physical protest of a spirit that had been pushed past its limit. She did not lose her life when he discarded her; she lost the facade that kept her captive.

Standing now in the wreckage of the mini-empire she built, she sees clearly: she was never the 'stay-at-home burden' he accused her of being. She was the powerhouse, the architect, and the host. And for the first time in over a decade, the foundation she is building is hers alone, and this time, it is built to last.

Gypsy Soul riding Solo