Found racist group chat & body-shaming on my boyfriend’s phone—am I wrong for planning my exit?
A late-night argument over a video game turned into a gut-punch discovery on my boyfriend’s phone. What I found about his friends—and about me—blew up the trust I thought we had.
We’re an interracial couple (me 22F, Black; him 23M, white), together about two years and living with his family. After I drove him to a hangout and bought drinks, he came home drunk, threw up, and then—out of nowhere—shut off my PC while I was playing RDR2. His insecurity spiral that followed didn’t make sense, so when he passed out, I searched my name on his phone. That’s when I found months-old texts trashing me and a group chat full of racist “jokes,” plus him calling my post–birth control weight gain “disgusting.” The pieces suddenly clicked: the friends I’d avoided for using slurs, the off comments, his silence. I wish I hadn’t seen it—but I’m also grateful I know.
I felt blindsided. I do the cooking, cleaning, meal prep, and split costs where we can; I thought we were a team. Seeing his friends toss around slurs and him join in—even rarely—made me feel unsafe and humiliated. I confronted him, he promised to talk to them, but the damage to my trust is real, and I’m quietly planning how to leave when I can afford it.
We started strong: two years together, me comfortable going out with or without him, splitting bills where possible, and me handling most household tasks while working. The friction lived in his friend group—guys who used slurs and traded offensive memes. I avoided them after the first encounter, but he kept them around as “drinking buddies.”
“I wish I never would have seen it because now I cannot unsee it.”
The night it cracked: after I chauffeured him to a hangout and bought the beers, he came home drunk, shut off my game, and got defensive about his looks. While he slept, I found old texts where his best friend said I wasn’t “the one,” plus my boyfriend calling my weight gain “disgusting.” In group chats, there were racist jokes and slurs; he’d even contributed at least once. In our update talk, he insisted he isn’t racist, just conflict-avoidant, and admitted the same friends mocked him and made “jungle fever” comments about me.
“Do I think my boyfriend is racist? No. Do I think he’s spineless with no moral code? Absolutely.”
I told him how demeaning it felt and that complicity is a dealbreaker. He said he’d confront them and wouldn’t invite them to a wedding or around future kids. Still, I can’t unknow what I saw. Because we live with his family rent-free and my finances and car are shaky, I haven’t broken up yet. I’m staying cordial while I save and plan to move—with our two cats to consider and friends offering couches if needed.
🏠 The Aftermath
After confronting him, he agreed to talk to his friends and acknowledged they wouldn’t be welcome at big life events. My trust, however, is fractured, and I’m mapping an exit on a realistic timeline.
Living with his family rent-free; two cats to plan for; car barely hanging on; saving for deposits; friends offered temporary stays.
He keeps minimal contact with the worst offenders; I keep distance and focus on finances, credit repair, and logistics for moving out.
Silence around bigotry is still a choice—and it costs trust.
I’m sad, embarrassed, and practical all at once. There’s no victory lap here—just the slow work of untangling a life and safety netting my next steps.
💭 Emotional Reflection
This isn’t a simple “good guy/bad guy” story—it’s a clash between values and the fear of losing long-time friends. But tolerating slurs and cruelty, even passively, creates harm, especially when you’re dating someone those comments target.
The stakes are real: dignity, safety, and future family boundaries. He’s scared of being friendless; I’m scared of building a life with someone who won’t stand up when it counts. Both truths can exist, but only one protects me.
Reasonable people may debate snooping or timelines for leaving, yet most can agree that complicity erodes trust. Growth requires action, not just apologies.
Here’s how readers tend to react to stories like this:
“NTA. Racism isn’t ‘just jokes.’ If he won’t defend you now, he won’t later.”
“You’re practical, not petty—secure housing first, then go. Safety over speed.”
“He’s not ready for an interracial relationship if he keeps that circle and stays silent.”
Most responses urge leaving while acknowledging the financial bind, stressing boundaries, self-respect, and that apologies don’t undo repeated complicity.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Trust breaks in quiet ways: a shut-off screen, a cruel text, a “joke” that lands like a bruise. Planning an exit isn’t weakness; it’s choosing a future where you’re protected and proud.
Love can forgive mistakes, but it can’t thrive where your dignity is negotiable.
What do you think?
Would you have left, or stayed and kept trying to make it work? Share your thoughts below 👇
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