Sunday, June 15, 2008

My past.

The last post was really from yesterday, I just didn't publish it until today. I've been kind of lazy lately. Last night we went shopping and this morning we have kind of just been chilling out. My husband is gone of course, working as always. Last time I only talked about my husband, so this time it'll be about me.

Most of my problems steam from one place, my childhood. Some of my earliest memories include hiding outside crying because no one would even notice I was gone. I was told several times that I was "unplanned" that I had only been an accident and my parents really hadn't wanted me. My mother spent all her time doing housework and helping my older brother with his home work. In fact at the age of 4 when I wanted to learn to read, she was too busy to help me, so I learned on my own. My father was no where to be found when I was a child. All his time was spent in the garage or taking naps. My mother was 42 when she had me, and the next youngest child was 8 years older than me. We lived in a rural area and my mother home schooled, so I had zero friends growing up.

When I was 15 I begged my parents to let me go to public school. To my surprise they did let me go. I made some friends easily and started dating; thus began my other major problem. When I turned 17 I got into a serious relationship with a 19 year old from my summer job. He had just graduated from high school in a nearby town (I went to school at a very small rural school, he was from the largest town in that area) and was getting ready to go to collage. This relationship was really great for about 6 months. He asked me to marry him, and being so in love I accepted.

I have no idea why I was in love with this man. I had my first sexual experience with him, and it was what I now consider to be rape. I was his first girlfriend, and I guess he was eager to have sex, because he pressured me until I finally caved. Our first encounter was oral sex, and by that I mean he forced his cock into my mouth and verbally abused me until I performed on him. I was expected to do this for him every time we met from then on. After telling me what a horrid girlfriend I was for not letting him fuck me, he finally started telling me that I would do it if I loved him. So there I was, scared and not ready for sex, in the back seat the car, as he had his way with me. It was never a concern if I enjoyed it or not, but that’s OK because I only wanted it to be over with. After he had finished, I was only concerned with if I had been "good enough" for him. When I asked him if he was pleased or not, his response was "it's not what I expected, you're really loose." This is something that he later used against me to force me into anal sex. At one point in the relationship he insisted on giving me oral sex. I already knew that I wasn't good enough for him, and I resisted him because I knew what he would say about me. I was right. He told me that I smelled bad, that I tasted bad, that I was disgusting; and I believed him.

After we got engaged, I moved in with him and we were together another 6 months until I finally left him. I didn't understand at the time why I stayed with him. I didn't understand how all the emotional abuse was worth it. After being away from him and going through counseling, I discovered the reason why. I never had a father growing up, my dad was checked out. I was seeking approval from a man; I wanted the love that I never got from my family. Even though he was forcing himself on me several times a week, I still wanted to be with him. I even began to crave it. It hurt and I hated it, but there he was, wanting me. No one had ever wanted me before. It got to the point that I stopped being a young woman and just became his property. We had sex on average 4 times a day and I gave him oral sex at least twice each day as well. This was of course while we were living together. I was so bruised and so sore, that I prayed for my period to come a few days sooner than normal. When I was bleeding I was too disgusting for him to touch me, which allowed me some time to heal although the bruising never completely went away.

It was a horrid relationship that ended up costing both him and I our schooling. Everything was fine the first couple months of our relationship. We were working together and dating during our free time. We started having sex during the last couple weeks before he started college. I was in shock during that period. I was convinced that we were in love, and I believed everything he said. I really did think that I had to have sex with him; I believed that I was lucky he would even want to have sex with me considering what a disappointment I had been to him. After he left for college and I started school again, we saw each other on the weekends. I was working every day after school and on the weekends, until he told me I needed to have the weekends free for when he came back home. So I quit my job and tried to get back some of my grades that had been slipping. I was spending all of my free days with him, and trying to rest up from that during the school week. I became very sick, both physically and mentally, and ended up dropping out of school. I had been going to the doctor every week and getting all sorts of tests done. They couldn't find any reason why my hair had started falling out, or why I was so weak. I started going to a counselor weekly also. I didn't really talk about my relationship; I only talked about my problems with cutting myself and my want of death.

The counseling sessions helped. I kind of got some of my life back and my boyfriend had started spending more time and money on me. Instead of us only having sex, we were starting to talk more, he was buying little gifts for me that were pink and said things like "I love you" on them. He wasn't going to classes anymore, he spent all of his time partying and cheating on me (only one way to get Chlamydia) He dropped out of college and got an apartment "so we could be together." I moved in with him shortly after he proposed to me. During that time he had been being very sweet to me; guess he was afraid I would kill myself and then he'd have to find someone else to rape.

During the 6 months I lived with him things got worse. We began having sex 5 or more times each day and he started becoming violent towards me. He kicked in his apartment door right in front of me as I stood there crying. He threatened to kill me on more than one occasion. After a while of the abuse I went back to see the counselor. After telling her what had been going on and how he had treated me the entire time I had known him, she only had one thing to say to me "If you don't leave him now, he will kill you." So I left him, but I kept talking to him over the phone. I wanted answers, but he wouldn't give them to me. He refused to even admit that he had given me Chlamydia. I don't know why I expected any different. I finally stopped talking to him when he called me a bitch and threatened me on my 18th birthday. I never talked to him again.

That relationship left so many scars in my heart. I had this deep rooted belief that I was disgusting no matter how many times I went to counseling. I didn't stay single for very long though. I met my husband through an Internet dating site within the month. We talked online and over the phone for about two months before we met in person. We got married exactly one year from the day we met each other face to face. During my marriage I have been able to get past a lot of the problems created during my prior relationship. My husband never asked me to give him oral sex and if I told him I didn't feel like having sex he would just hold me instead. I finally gave him oral sex because I thought he deserved it, and I wanted to know what it was like when it was my choice, my gift. It really helped to have him there during those first few months after I had left my previous fiancé. I had someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. We were a couple hundred miles away so the pressure of sex wasn't even an issue. There was something there that I hadn't felt before. He had a certain gentleness about him that made me feel safe, even over the phone.

We have since lost most of the sweetness that was between us.  I think we are on the right track to getting it back though.

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