Emerald Blue
Well-Known Member
Sometimes I just want the hurt to stop. It never does. I hate porn with a vengeance. I hate how it has damaged my relationship. I know that I can never again experience the beauty the lovemaking we used to share. The toxic effects of his porn use have undermined the very core of what our relationship was built upon. He was the one who did it. He chose porn over me. Nothing I said or did made a difference. He left me with no alternative other than to suffer in silence for 15 years until I was a suicidal wreck.
How did I get to be like that? How did I allow it to happen? Why did I believe that I had no choice? I'm still suffering the after effects, the years of neglect, of never being touched, the lies, the deception. I'm left with the hard work of rebuilding my self worth and doing a better job of taking care of me.
Some days it can be such a struggle just trying to feel OK about being myself. I can look in the mirror and say "You're looking good today" and I can wear nice things. But then I think of all that porn shit, and how he disrespected my body and showed no interest in me. And then I feel like shit.
I can remember specific occasions when I was rejected. I can remember donating a beautiful satin nightgown to goodwill because it brought back painful memories of the naive occasion when I planned that a sexy, romantic evening, only for him to behave in a way that was almost hostile. His words killed my spirit that night.
Sometimes I think he doesn't deserve me. Sometimes I think he never did. He dragged me through so much shit and I just took it. I started believing I was too old or too ugly, that I was undesirable. Not just as feelings but as irrefutable facts. From someone who had complete confidence in her attractiveness and body shape to someone who couldn't bear to look in the mirror. He chose porn and that's what it did to me.
I'm through with all the hurt, all the wreckage, all the shit he put me through, all the lies, all the pain, all the rejection. There he was, sitting on his throne, choosing women from a storefront whilst hammering away at himself, oblivious to what was going on in his real world relationship. He even admitted he never even thought about my needs. But he still put enough effort in to hiding his pathetic habit from me.
Some days I wonder, why should I continue to respect him after all the pain his thoughtless self-indulgent behaviour has put me through? Why should I believe anything he says after all his lies? Why should I even let him touch me after he treated my body like a consolation prize?
I've just had enough of feeling this way. I've had enough garbage in my head for too long. I've looked to him for approval, that I'm good enough for him, trying to please him, allowing him to decide whether I'm attractive enough for him or whatever. And it's not doing me any good. Just what do I have to do to feel OK about being me?
How did I get to be like that? How did I allow it to happen? Why did I believe that I had no choice? I'm still suffering the after effects, the years of neglect, of never being touched, the lies, the deception. I'm left with the hard work of rebuilding my self worth and doing a better job of taking care of me.
Some days it can be such a struggle just trying to feel OK about being myself. I can look in the mirror and say "You're looking good today" and I can wear nice things. But then I think of all that porn shit, and how he disrespected my body and showed no interest in me. And then I feel like shit.
I can remember specific occasions when I was rejected. I can remember donating a beautiful satin nightgown to goodwill because it brought back painful memories of the naive occasion when I planned that a sexy, romantic evening, only for him to behave in a way that was almost hostile. His words killed my spirit that night.
Sometimes I think he doesn't deserve me. Sometimes I think he never did. He dragged me through so much shit and I just took it. I started believing I was too old or too ugly, that I was undesirable. Not just as feelings but as irrefutable facts. From someone who had complete confidence in her attractiveness and body shape to someone who couldn't bear to look in the mirror. He chose porn and that's what it did to me.
I'm through with all the hurt, all the wreckage, all the shit he put me through, all the lies, all the pain, all the rejection. There he was, sitting on his throne, choosing women from a storefront whilst hammering away at himself, oblivious to what was going on in his real world relationship. He even admitted he never even thought about my needs. But he still put enough effort in to hiding his pathetic habit from me.
Some days I wonder, why should I continue to respect him after all the pain his thoughtless self-indulgent behaviour has put me through? Why should I believe anything he says after all his lies? Why should I even let him touch me after he treated my body like a consolation prize?
I've just had enough of feeling this way. I've had enough garbage in my head for too long. I've looked to him for approval, that I'm good enough for him, trying to please him, allowing him to decide whether I'm attractive enough for him or whatever. And it's not doing me any good. Just what do I have to do to feel OK about being me?