Warning Graphic language and content
As a preface to this story I want to say I am not a professional writer by any means. Nor do I have the answers to the questions I am posing. I even struggle to write the words I am typing. Not because they are not floating through my head, but because I question the validity of them. I question the worth they carry. As though my own words need not be spoken until they are felt to be worthwhile by someone else. The result leaves me frozen in silence. My heart aching and my mind screaming at me. I stare at the keyboard, trying to convince myself that my words are worth writing. How have I reached a point of such unassuredness? Part of me wants to blame it on my boyfriend. A good man, but maybe not a good man for me. It is difficult to love a self described narcissist. The mind games stretch for months even years. They are hard to separate from real emotions and thoughts. He has worn me down until I am feeling threadbare. I have been held to an unmeetable standard. We have the same fights. I say nothing. My underlying fear of him takes over my senses. I have done everything I can to please him. and ultimately (as for most males) it is about sex. He tells me it is my job to make him happy and I am failing him. He says he makes coffee for me every morning and for that "loving" act he feels I owe him sex. I have been reduced to the same value as a cup of fucking coffee. We do have sex, and as the fights continue, the sex decreases. Why are we not married you ask? Well apparently I don't spread my legs on demand. And thus I am not worth it. After the fight and after I tell him that his words make me feel as though my value to him is counted by how frequently I spread my legs; he is mad at me. It is thrown in my face and I am tricked into feeling bad for feeling bad. It is a fucking shit show. My self worth is what is threadbare. I struggle to find value in anything I do. I ache inside. I want my children to understand my value and I have become so threadbare that I don't believe they find value in me either. I spent the entire 1st year with my boyfriend living with me cooking and cleaning and buying him things and planning dates, and all I got were to go rounds with him about how I need to do more. I need to clean more I need to be nicer to him, I need to trust him and not question him when he goes out; and of course I need to make myself more available to him and on top of that I need to initiate sex more often. I have stopped cooking. I have stopped buying him stuff, I have stopped planning date nights with him. and I have now closed my legs. My body is mine to share as I see fit. And anybody who tells me otherwise can go fuck themselves. I am never going to make him happy. He can do that his damn self. I will also never marry him or anyone who tells me that "best believe you will provide your wifely duty whether you want to or not". I have more value than that. I can't even imagine what it must feel like to be loved by someone who loves you for your compassion for human life, your ability to work hard and overcome major obstacles. To always find the good in any bad situation. To be loved for your sense of humor, your love of reading and educating yourself. It doesn't matter. I tell myself. I love me for those things. at least I think I do. I have value. I have to keep repeating this to myself. I can't really trust it. My heart is lonesome. One of the things I struggle with is my weight. I am not huge, but heavier than what I want. I was told if I make time for me to work out than I have no excuse to not make time to have sex. I think I should value my own time more than that. What if I don't want to have sex after I work out? Am I just being selfish? I did though for eight weeks. I worked out every day. I came home and we had sex almost every time. Even when I didn't really want to. The result? I felt dirty and used. I stopped working out, we stopped having as frequent of sex, and the mind game kicked in. He became quiet, rude, withdrawn. He refused to speak more than a word or two to me in any given day for weeks. He has done this before it is nothing new. It is exhausting though. Trying to stay mentally even keeled when faced with such opposition is difficult at best. I want to be strong, healthy and happy. Beneath the layer of fat is my threadbare self worth struggling to stay intact.
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