I have decided to be an adult about this and own up to my hang ups. I don't expect you to do the same, but here it goes...
Number 1 made me feel as if having sex was something to be scared about - as if it were something that needed to be given a lot of thought beforehand. We couldn't have sex unless we bought condoms first because he instilled a worry in me that he would get me pregnant. That money was wasted and we were left with a box of untouched condoms. Every. Fucking. Time. Number 1 made me feel as if I were a chore. He would lose a job, have no money to see me, and expect me to drop everything and use my own money (working a job that did not allow me vacation days) to come see him. On my trip that his FRIEND helped me afford, he bought our dinner. He later told me in the car that because he bought the dinner, he was no longer going to give me any money to help with my $400+ plane ticket (something I didn't even fucking know he wanted to help with in the first place - he probably didn't and just wanted me to feel bad). He did not teach me how to date. He taught me to be fearful. He made me think that maybe my vagina was fucking broken. He made me scared. He set up something I keep falling for to this day - broke dudes who don't offer to pay. Broke dudes with no fucking ambition or plans for the future.
Number 1 told me he wanted to have children with me. One night in bed, he touched my stomach and commented on how one day a baby would fucking be in there. Number 1 told me he wanted to marry me. I almost moved for him. In the end, all of this was bullshit. In the end, he told me he didn't want to have children with me - or anyone. In the end, he didn't show up again.
The last time Number 1 and I had sex, he was so scared of cumming inside me, (what we ALWAYS DID) he stopped the sex completely. He negated both of our pleasure over this unsupported FEAR of getting me fucking pregnant. I would not have kept your child even if it had happened. I want you to know that. But in the end, I got into the shower with you, showing that I was okay with this treatment. You never gave me pleasure. Ever. And you taught me to be scared of trying to give it to anyone else.
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Number 2 hurt me the most and for nearly all of 5 and a half years we were actually together.
But before he did that, he got me off. He made me feel like maybe I wasn't broken and maybe I could explore a sexual side with men. But I was spoiled our whole relationship and was taken care of physically whereas he did not seem to desire anything more. This fucked me up the most now that it's over, but at the time I was just happy to be with him - to finally feel that connection - to think I was safe.
Number 2 only wanted me on my good days. Number 2 didn't want to sit down and truly understand what was happening with my brain when I was stuck with it 24/7. Number 2 taught me that my heart could break over and over. He was another man who continued to lose jobs and have no money and expect me to pay for myself (and sometimes him) all the time. Number 2 was also ambitionless and unable to see past his own face when it came to the future. Number 2 was too fucking old to be trapped in this mentality.
Number 2 made me feel uneasy about my body. He was not the first and unfortunately will not be the last, but he did a number on me. He thought taking out his own insecurities on the person he claimed to love the most was okay. He did not know how to love me, or himself.
Number 2 was a lot of things, but in the end he was another disappointment.
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Needless to say, I'm afraid of what is out there. I'm afraid of what is wanted (or expected) from me in the bedroom. I don't know how to please you, and a part of me feels so hurt by the past that I have no fucking desire TO please you.
I don't know what it's like to have any power in my romantic relationships. Whatever I gather in the beginning is cast aside the moment we start talking. I become putty in their fucking hands. They mold me and I turn and twist in compliance. I let myself get set up for disappointment because that is ALL I fucking know. I let myself get wrapped up with emotionally unavailable men because that's ALL I fucking know. I keep doing the same shit and expecting different results. A part of me is sick of this mentality and sick of knowing the end result before it even happens, but the other part of me is comforted by the routine - by knowing how it's going to go. It's familiar. It feeds into my nostalgic soul.
There may only be 5 of you right now, but there are countless other men who have led me to the place I'm in now. I'm continuously disgusted in them and myself when I look back on how our meetings went and how I acted. But I'm telling you right now that I see myself continuing to act on this. Until I find my voice with men and stop feeling so fucking guilty asking for what I want (from anyone), this is a cycle I will keep finding myself in. I'm owning that too. The fact that the damage instilled in me is still with me. I'll vow to myself to begin working on it, but I'll be playing this game for a little while later.
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