Angelx
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- Apr 16, 2020
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Hi hi! I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time. I’ve been on Reddit and reading other people’s experiences had me asking a lot of questions to myself. I’m scared of asking this here because it’s really too much information and I’ve been mulling over asking my therapist about it for nearly two years now. I’m just getting super tired of constantly thinking about it, my boyfriend isn’t helping, I can’t ask my family, and this community has never been anything less than supportive, compassionate, and helpful. I haven’t discussed this with anyone besides my S/O, so please be gentle in your responses. This will be a long read but I really would like if you could read it.
WARNING: wayyy tmi. I’m so sorry. Sexual details were inevitable because I have to explain what’s going on and I feel really bad for that.
Okay so:
I’m 21 as of yesterday. I was homeschooled my entire life until college, and I only ever saw my sisters and these other three kids from my church. No socializing. My parents never gave me “the talk.” All I knew of it was what would happen on a cellular level: Sperm + Egg = Baby. I didn’t know how the sperm got to the egg, I didn’t know that semen was anything more than a cell, I didn’t know how our body parts work, none of it. I got my first job when I was 16 and people would make explicit jokes that wouldn’t make sense to me, and I wouldn’t ask questions because if felt so wrong to even hear the jokes. Working there I met my current boyfriend. We started dating shortly after I turned 18. Early into our relationship he asked what I thought about foreplay, and when I said, “What’s that?” He thought I was joking. Once I was finally able to convince him that I was being serious, he bashfully explained it to me and I admitted that I know nothing about sex of any kind. He ended up giving me the birds and the bees discussion, and was very informative about it. He let me ask questions and it was not vulgar, it was educational. He was sweet about it.
I told him we’d wait until marriage to ever have sex and he said that was fine. I am Christian and that’s what I wanted. He would try to touch my butt, just playfully sometimes, but I wouldn’t let him. I told him if he didn’t like that he could find a different girlfriend. He kept doing it anyway. Eventually I realized it was okay so I let him do it. Then we slowly got into more sexual activities but never actual sex, just things that would be considered foreplay. I’d never let him finish in front of me. Don’t judge but I was 18, I’d only found out what c** was less than six months prior, and it was all new and scary to me. I didn’t want to see it because I didn’t know what to expect. He knew that, and he’d always be pushy for me to let him climax without having to leave the room to do it. But I kept saying no cause I wasn’t comfortable with that yet. Then one day I was giving him an HJ and he finished without asking me if he could. I jokingly said, “You tricked me,” but laughed it off. He did it on purpose though. And that was the beginning of a long relationship of him doing stuff like that.
Fast forward about six months and we are discussing giving our virginity to each other. I was a freshman in college at that point and told him we *might* would have sex that day because we were both tired of waiting. We went out for lunch and while we were gone he stopped at the store and bought condoms. I thought they were for just in case we decided to do it and I was glad he wanted to be prepared, but as we were stepping out of the car to go into his house he goes, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” And i was surprised because I’d never agreed to doing it. So I told him that. I was like, “I said we might do it today, I’m not sure I want to yet. Let’s just see how it goes.” He agreed and we went in.
We started doing stuff and I got very worried about the whole situation. Every time he’d let go of me to start penetration I would freak out and we’d go back to just using our hands. At one point he put the condom on and I started crying because I didn’t wanna do it anymore. He calmed me down, and a couple minutes later I told him we could start back doing stuff again. I knew right then that I wasn’t ready for this but I didn’t want to disappoint him. We started back foreplay again and I asked him ***tmi I know please no judgies*** if he would rub his penis around my area and see if that would make me want to do it more. I never once said he could put it in, and that was very clear. Then he put it in. There went our virginity and I was very shocked at first. I didn’t tell him to stop, I didn’t know what to do. As soon as he got done I just burst into tears and couldn’t stop crying. I made him late for work and he made every attempt he could to make me feel better. He gave me his most prized possession (a blanket that his late grandma had made for him right before he was born) and the tassel from his graduation cap, and assured me he wouldn’t leave until I felt better even tho he was gonna be late. That made me feel much better.
Initially after that, every time we’d do anything sexual I’d get the worst anxiety. Sometimes panic attacks. I had anxiety before this though, just never surrounding our sex life. I would cry so hard any time we’d do anything, we’d have to stop. I didn’t feel guilt at all. Just lots and lots of fear and dread and a ton of other overwhelming emotions I couldn’t quite identify. It got a little better, to where we could use our hands/mouths, but almost every we’d have penetrative sex, afterwards I would cry or hyperventilate or get really depressed. What made me mad was that my dysphoria had no affect on his libido. He’d notice and comfort me if I was upset, and we’d both agree that we didn’t know what was causing it, but he’d be fine with going at it again a few minutes later, or initiate it the next day knowing how it made me feel. I could be clearly uncomfortable sometimes, or tell him it was hurting me, and he’d keep going. But I’d never say no. I’d lose my voice every time and feel like I couldn’t speak after he disregarded my initial discomfort. Please note this wouldn’t happen every single time just the majority of times.
Time went on and one night it just got worse. We were in the car doing stuff and I started to get very uncomfortable with the situation. This time I actually spoke up more than I normally do, and I said, “Maybe we should stop.” He replied, “No, it’s okay. We’ll be fine.” And kept going. I just sat there and let him. I really felt like I couldn’t speak up again and I HATE myself for that because I know I can’t be upset if I won’t just say something. But in the moment it’s scary and hard and I just wouldn’t. I thought saying maybe we should stop was a good indicator that I didn’t want to continue. He ignored that and so I didn’t say anything else. Afterwards I just cried again like I always do. He hugged me and asked what was wrong. I didn’t even know at the point I was scatterbrained. I calmed myself down and got out of the car and moved on from it. A while later a friend told me that’s sexual assault and it never should of happened, but I ignored the friend because I had never plainly withdrew my consent.
Months upon months go by. It still happens. I still cry or have panic attacks a lot when we have sex. I’ve told him a few times that I never want to have sex again and he’s fine with that. Then I’ll end up changing my mind because I have needs too and it’s human nature to wanna ****. But even when I was the one initiating, I’d still panic or cry after. It was driving me crazy and making him sad. If I’d turn down sex a lot or decide to stop during it, he’d keep asking if I’m ashamed of his body (he’s very insecure about his weight but I love him just the way he is), and I always say no. He recognized that my tears and panic aren’t normal but he still would ask if it’s about his body and that would make me angry because clearly something is wrong with me and he’s only thinking of how he feels. I got to where I couldn’t say no to sex every time because I felt bad. If I said no twice in a row I’d just start saying yes on the third time. After months of doing that I admitted it to him, and then I got brave and told him I think he should notice when I’m uncomfortable and not keep going if I say it’s hurting. He agreed and started doing better. Things started improving. I still cry and panic after sometimes but not like I did. With my new medication (sertraline), I haven’t panicked after except once. Only crying, which is a step up. I finally got to where I could hide my tears so he wouldn’t notice because I got tired of killing the vibe right after he’d finish. He’d NEVER make me feel bad for killing the vibe, but I’d get angry at myself because I wanted him to be able to enjoy smashing.
Then I got on reddit and saw a post from a bf who was asking about his girlfriend. She reacted to sex the same way I do, because she had been through sexual assault. He wanted to help her. It made me WISH my boyfriend went to lengths to help me. So I asked a question on there about if anyone could figure out why I react the way I do. I told them my whole story. Everyone said that’s rape, and explained the definition of sexual assault: Begging to do stuff, putting it in without permission, continuing when I’m clearly uncomfortable, etc. I got upset, but felt validated. I felt fear when we’d have sex and it finally made sense why. I felt like I wasn’t crazy. They said trauma comes in many forms and not being ready for sex and then him doing it anyway could cause my body to have a trauma response to it. Idk if that’s accurate information but I’ve hated myself for ruining sex for a long time and I finally felt like maybe it’s not all my fault.
I decided to talk to my boyfriend about it. I told him what they said about the situation, I let him read my reddit post and the responses to it and he immediately started crying, apologizing, saying how he hated rapists and couldn’t believe he was one, and then saying he should kill himself. I told him not to say that and he apologized. I can’t stand seeing him cry. He said he was the root of all my trauma and I immediately corrected him (my life had tons of trauma before I even met him, hence why I have anxiety). My boyfriend was all kinds of sad.
Only one out of all the responses to my reddit post said it’s not rape cause I never said no, so in that case it was just miscommunication. I clung to that and told my boyfriend that he didn’t do anything wrong cause it wasn’t intentional. I have a horrible tendency to wanna make it all better so I kept pushing that everything was fine and not his fault, even when he insisted it was. Eventually his tears went away and we moved on from the conversation. He maintained that he would pay attention. He maintained that it was his fault but he could make it right. Then we stopped talking about it altogether.
Fast forward a couple days and we leave for a vacation together, just the two of us. We’ve never done that before. We were getting a hotel and the pressure was mounting on me because I knew he’d be expecting to have sex. I told him I would definitely be too tired the first night just so he’d know in advance and I wouldn’t be pressured.
He did great and never even asked me if we could. I felt better. Then I started feeling a lil frisky and asked him if we could do it. We started doing stuff and he actually made me finish (he usually never does that because I’m always anxious and can’t get there), but as soon as I did I couldn’t breathe anymore. Cue the first panic attack I’ve had since being on sertraline, cue the tears and hyperventilating. I couldn’t calm down. He immediately got worried and I went off the rails. I have never stayed so frazzled for so long, but for two hours I was bouncing between crying and not being able to breathe, and realizing how terrified I am to be in the hotel room because it’s unfamiliar, and telling him I wanna go home. Nothing was making it better, we were trying everything. Any time I’d get even the tiniest bit calm I’d relapse into freaking out again and nothing was working. We turned all the lights on, we tried watching YouTube videos, we tried looking at all the sea shells we got from the beach earlier, we talked about the fun stuff we’d do the next day, but I could only get a couple minutes of peace at a time before I’d start getting worked up again. All my fears surfaced at once. I’ve never felt that insanely awful in all my life.
After I was able to calm down to a semi normal level, I apologized a billion times for not getting him off and he said it was fine. I asked him to stay awake until I fell asleep, that way he could make sure we’re safe and nobody would hurt me. Then he fell asleep by accident so I woke him up and asked him to wait a few more minutes so I could fall asleep. He did and I finally fell asleep. Then he fell asleep but his snoring woke me up. It had only been an hour and a half since we’d fallen asleep, and when I woke up, I snuggled back against him and woke him up. He pulled me closer to him really tight and I noticed he had a boner.
“Are you pineapple?” I asked, cause “pineapple” is our code word for horny. We used to use it to talk on the phone but it became habit.
He stretched and then pulled my waist closer into his, and said “Maybe” in a super sexy tone and kissed the back of my neck. I laughed and told him goodnight, but it kinda hurt my feelings that he would even think about sex after he knew how horribly I reacted when we tried it, and after he knew how guilty I felt for not finishing him off last time. I got really upset. He went back to sleep but for hours I paced around the hotel trying to figure out if he really cares about me. After my panic attack I had asked him a thousand times what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He never mentioned that maybe I’m still not ready, he didn’t bring up anything we’d talked about two days before. He just said he doesn’t know. Then less than two hours later he was ready again. Then I thought I’m overreacting. Then I thought I’m crazy. I don’t know what’s going on.
It was still the middle of the night when I woke him up AGAIN. I’d been awake by myself for almost four hours and I asked him if we could talk about what happened. I started explaining to him that it hurt my feelings that he was willing to have sex so soon after my meltdown, but then he fell back asleep immediately after I asked that. I couldn’t blame him much, he was tired, but it didn’t make me feel important to him at all. I woke him up again and told him he fell asleep before he could respond to me. He apologized and started to answer but dozed off again. I woke him up one more time just to tell him I was mad then I decided to try to sleep. He started apologizing and promising we could stay awake to talk about it. I ignored him until I fell asleep. The next day he acted like nothing ever happened. Never asked if I felt better, never mentioned anything. We ended up having sex again, no meltdowns or panic this time. On the way home from our trip I brought up what I was trying to ask when he kept falling asleep. I explained that I hate that we only talked about the rape thing that one day and that he hasn’t tried to help me work through it since. I told him idk if it counts or not, but that my strong reaction to sex speaks volumes about how some of his choices have affected me and that him wanting to go again after I’ve been panicking makes me feel less human.
He assured me that he still thinks about the sexual assault thing even though he doesn’t talk about it, and that he can’t forgive himself for it. I told him he continues to do things that seem like he’s disregarding me, and that words don’t change it. He acts like he doesn’t understand. He always says “I was immature, I was immature back then,” but then he continues to hurt me every time. I don’t get it. I guess I’m just angry because we could break up and I’d still probably be like this with my next partner. He’s just fine, but this is something that I might have for forever, and he never seems to think about it. He has fun getting off in me but never seems to care how it makes me feel. He cheers me up when I get down, but won’t stop putting me there.
Then I feel like he hasn’t done anything wrong and that society is just giving men a bad rep. Like maybe I am overreacting or I am crazy. I’m lost.
Please help me somehow. Advice welcome, I need it. How should I proceed?
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
WARNING: wayyy tmi. I’m so sorry. Sexual details were inevitable because I have to explain what’s going on and I feel really bad for that.
Okay so:
I’m 21 as of yesterday. I was homeschooled my entire life until college, and I only ever saw my sisters and these other three kids from my church. No socializing. My parents never gave me “the talk.” All I knew of it was what would happen on a cellular level: Sperm + Egg = Baby. I didn’t know how the sperm got to the egg, I didn’t know that semen was anything more than a cell, I didn’t know how our body parts work, none of it. I got my first job when I was 16 and people would make explicit jokes that wouldn’t make sense to me, and I wouldn’t ask questions because if felt so wrong to even hear the jokes. Working there I met my current boyfriend. We started dating shortly after I turned 18. Early into our relationship he asked what I thought about foreplay, and when I said, “What’s that?” He thought I was joking. Once I was finally able to convince him that I was being serious, he bashfully explained it to me and I admitted that I know nothing about sex of any kind. He ended up giving me the birds and the bees discussion, and was very informative about it. He let me ask questions and it was not vulgar, it was educational. He was sweet about it.
I told him we’d wait until marriage to ever have sex and he said that was fine. I am Christian and that’s what I wanted. He would try to touch my butt, just playfully sometimes, but I wouldn’t let him. I told him if he didn’t like that he could find a different girlfriend. He kept doing it anyway. Eventually I realized it was okay so I let him do it. Then we slowly got into more sexual activities but never actual sex, just things that would be considered foreplay. I’d never let him finish in front of me. Don’t judge but I was 18, I’d only found out what c** was less than six months prior, and it was all new and scary to me. I didn’t want to see it because I didn’t know what to expect. He knew that, and he’d always be pushy for me to let him climax without having to leave the room to do it. But I kept saying no cause I wasn’t comfortable with that yet. Then one day I was giving him an HJ and he finished without asking me if he could. I jokingly said, “You tricked me,” but laughed it off. He did it on purpose though. And that was the beginning of a long relationship of him doing stuff like that.
Fast forward about six months and we are discussing giving our virginity to each other. I was a freshman in college at that point and told him we *might* would have sex that day because we were both tired of waiting. We went out for lunch and while we were gone he stopped at the store and bought condoms. I thought they were for just in case we decided to do it and I was glad he wanted to be prepared, but as we were stepping out of the car to go into his house he goes, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” And i was surprised because I’d never agreed to doing it. So I told him that. I was like, “I said we might do it today, I’m not sure I want to yet. Let’s just see how it goes.” He agreed and we went in.
We started doing stuff and I got very worried about the whole situation. Every time he’d let go of me to start penetration I would freak out and we’d go back to just using our hands. At one point he put the condom on and I started crying because I didn’t wanna do it anymore. He calmed me down, and a couple minutes later I told him we could start back doing stuff again. I knew right then that I wasn’t ready for this but I didn’t want to disappoint him. We started back foreplay again and I asked him ***tmi I know please no judgies*** if he would rub his penis around my area and see if that would make me want to do it more. I never once said he could put it in, and that was very clear. Then he put it in. There went our virginity and I was very shocked at first. I didn’t tell him to stop, I didn’t know what to do. As soon as he got done I just burst into tears and couldn’t stop crying. I made him late for work and he made every attempt he could to make me feel better. He gave me his most prized possession (a blanket that his late grandma had made for him right before he was born) and the tassel from his graduation cap, and assured me he wouldn’t leave until I felt better even tho he was gonna be late. That made me feel much better.
Initially after that, every time we’d do anything sexual I’d get the worst anxiety. Sometimes panic attacks. I had anxiety before this though, just never surrounding our sex life. I would cry so hard any time we’d do anything, we’d have to stop. I didn’t feel guilt at all. Just lots and lots of fear and dread and a ton of other overwhelming emotions I couldn’t quite identify. It got a little better, to where we could use our hands/mouths, but almost every we’d have penetrative sex, afterwards I would cry or hyperventilate or get really depressed. What made me mad was that my dysphoria had no affect on his libido. He’d notice and comfort me if I was upset, and we’d both agree that we didn’t know what was causing it, but he’d be fine with going at it again a few minutes later, or initiate it the next day knowing how it made me feel. I could be clearly uncomfortable sometimes, or tell him it was hurting me, and he’d keep going. But I’d never say no. I’d lose my voice every time and feel like I couldn’t speak after he disregarded my initial discomfort. Please note this wouldn’t happen every single time just the majority of times.
Time went on and one night it just got worse. We were in the car doing stuff and I started to get very uncomfortable with the situation. This time I actually spoke up more than I normally do, and I said, “Maybe we should stop.” He replied, “No, it’s okay. We’ll be fine.” And kept going. I just sat there and let him. I really felt like I couldn’t speak up again and I HATE myself for that because I know I can’t be upset if I won’t just say something. But in the moment it’s scary and hard and I just wouldn’t. I thought saying maybe we should stop was a good indicator that I didn’t want to continue. He ignored that and so I didn’t say anything else. Afterwards I just cried again like I always do. He hugged me and asked what was wrong. I didn’t even know at the point I was scatterbrained. I calmed myself down and got out of the car and moved on from it. A while later a friend told me that’s sexual assault and it never should of happened, but I ignored the friend because I had never plainly withdrew my consent.
Months upon months go by. It still happens. I still cry or have panic attacks a lot when we have sex. I’ve told him a few times that I never want to have sex again and he’s fine with that. Then I’ll end up changing my mind because I have needs too and it’s human nature to wanna ****. But even when I was the one initiating, I’d still panic or cry after. It was driving me crazy and making him sad. If I’d turn down sex a lot or decide to stop during it, he’d keep asking if I’m ashamed of his body (he’s very insecure about his weight but I love him just the way he is), and I always say no. He recognized that my tears and panic aren’t normal but he still would ask if it’s about his body and that would make me angry because clearly something is wrong with me and he’s only thinking of how he feels. I got to where I couldn’t say no to sex every time because I felt bad. If I said no twice in a row I’d just start saying yes on the third time. After months of doing that I admitted it to him, and then I got brave and told him I think he should notice when I’m uncomfortable and not keep going if I say it’s hurting. He agreed and started doing better. Things started improving. I still cry and panic after sometimes but not like I did. With my new medication (sertraline), I haven’t panicked after except once. Only crying, which is a step up. I finally got to where I could hide my tears so he wouldn’t notice because I got tired of killing the vibe right after he’d finish. He’d NEVER make me feel bad for killing the vibe, but I’d get angry at myself because I wanted him to be able to enjoy smashing.
Then I got on reddit and saw a post from a bf who was asking about his girlfriend. She reacted to sex the same way I do, because she had been through sexual assault. He wanted to help her. It made me WISH my boyfriend went to lengths to help me. So I asked a question on there about if anyone could figure out why I react the way I do. I told them my whole story. Everyone said that’s rape, and explained the definition of sexual assault: Begging to do stuff, putting it in without permission, continuing when I’m clearly uncomfortable, etc. I got upset, but felt validated. I felt fear when we’d have sex and it finally made sense why. I felt like I wasn’t crazy. They said trauma comes in many forms and not being ready for sex and then him doing it anyway could cause my body to have a trauma response to it. Idk if that’s accurate information but I’ve hated myself for ruining sex for a long time and I finally felt like maybe it’s not all my fault.
I decided to talk to my boyfriend about it. I told him what they said about the situation, I let him read my reddit post and the responses to it and he immediately started crying, apologizing, saying how he hated rapists and couldn’t believe he was one, and then saying he should kill himself. I told him not to say that and he apologized. I can’t stand seeing him cry. He said he was the root of all my trauma and I immediately corrected him (my life had tons of trauma before I even met him, hence why I have anxiety). My boyfriend was all kinds of sad.
Only one out of all the responses to my reddit post said it’s not rape cause I never said no, so in that case it was just miscommunication. I clung to that and told my boyfriend that he didn’t do anything wrong cause it wasn’t intentional. I have a horrible tendency to wanna make it all better so I kept pushing that everything was fine and not his fault, even when he insisted it was. Eventually his tears went away and we moved on from the conversation. He maintained that he would pay attention. He maintained that it was his fault but he could make it right. Then we stopped talking about it altogether.
Fast forward a couple days and we leave for a vacation together, just the two of us. We’ve never done that before. We were getting a hotel and the pressure was mounting on me because I knew he’d be expecting to have sex. I told him I would definitely be too tired the first night just so he’d know in advance and I wouldn’t be pressured.
He did great and never even asked me if we could. I felt better. Then I started feeling a lil frisky and asked him if we could do it. We started doing stuff and he actually made me finish (he usually never does that because I’m always anxious and can’t get there), but as soon as I did I couldn’t breathe anymore. Cue the first panic attack I’ve had since being on sertraline, cue the tears and hyperventilating. I couldn’t calm down. He immediately got worried and I went off the rails. I have never stayed so frazzled for so long, but for two hours I was bouncing between crying and not being able to breathe, and realizing how terrified I am to be in the hotel room because it’s unfamiliar, and telling him I wanna go home. Nothing was making it better, we were trying everything. Any time I’d get even the tiniest bit calm I’d relapse into freaking out again and nothing was working. We turned all the lights on, we tried watching YouTube videos, we tried looking at all the sea shells we got from the beach earlier, we talked about the fun stuff we’d do the next day, but I could only get a couple minutes of peace at a time before I’d start getting worked up again. All my fears surfaced at once. I’ve never felt that insanely awful in all my life.
After I was able to calm down to a semi normal level, I apologized a billion times for not getting him off and he said it was fine. I asked him to stay awake until I fell asleep, that way he could make sure we’re safe and nobody would hurt me. Then he fell asleep by accident so I woke him up and asked him to wait a few more minutes so I could fall asleep. He did and I finally fell asleep. Then he fell asleep but his snoring woke me up. It had only been an hour and a half since we’d fallen asleep, and when I woke up, I snuggled back against him and woke him up. He pulled me closer to him really tight and I noticed he had a boner.
“Are you pineapple?” I asked, cause “pineapple” is our code word for horny. We used to use it to talk on the phone but it became habit.
He stretched and then pulled my waist closer into his, and said “Maybe” in a super sexy tone and kissed the back of my neck. I laughed and told him goodnight, but it kinda hurt my feelings that he would even think about sex after he knew how horribly I reacted when we tried it, and after he knew how guilty I felt for not finishing him off last time. I got really upset. He went back to sleep but for hours I paced around the hotel trying to figure out if he really cares about me. After my panic attack I had asked him a thousand times what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He never mentioned that maybe I’m still not ready, he didn’t bring up anything we’d talked about two days before. He just said he doesn’t know. Then less than two hours later he was ready again. Then I thought I’m overreacting. Then I thought I’m crazy. I don’t know what’s going on.
It was still the middle of the night when I woke him up AGAIN. I’d been awake by myself for almost four hours and I asked him if we could talk about what happened. I started explaining to him that it hurt my feelings that he was willing to have sex so soon after my meltdown, but then he fell back asleep immediately after I asked that. I couldn’t blame him much, he was tired, but it didn’t make me feel important to him at all. I woke him up again and told him he fell asleep before he could respond to me. He apologized and started to answer but dozed off again. I woke him up one more time just to tell him I was mad then I decided to try to sleep. He started apologizing and promising we could stay awake to talk about it. I ignored him until I fell asleep. The next day he acted like nothing ever happened. Never asked if I felt better, never mentioned anything. We ended up having sex again, no meltdowns or panic this time. On the way home from our trip I brought up what I was trying to ask when he kept falling asleep. I explained that I hate that we only talked about the rape thing that one day and that he hasn’t tried to help me work through it since. I told him idk if it counts or not, but that my strong reaction to sex speaks volumes about how some of his choices have affected me and that him wanting to go again after I’ve been panicking makes me feel less human.
He assured me that he still thinks about the sexual assault thing even though he doesn’t talk about it, and that he can’t forgive himself for it. I told him he continues to do things that seem like he’s disregarding me, and that words don’t change it. He acts like he doesn’t understand. He always says “I was immature, I was immature back then,” but then he continues to hurt me every time. I don’t get it. I guess I’m just angry because we could break up and I’d still probably be like this with my next partner. He’s just fine, but this is something that I might have for forever, and he never seems to think about it. He has fun getting off in me but never seems to care how it makes me feel. He cheers me up when I get down, but won’t stop putting me there.
Then I feel like he hasn’t done anything wrong and that society is just giving men a bad rep. Like maybe I am overreacting or I am crazy. I’m lost.
Please help me somehow. Advice welcome, I need it. How should I proceed?
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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