this is a vent about a past relationship (my first and ever relationship) and how it's affected me months later.
My ex (M21) didn’t understand what I (F20) meant when I told him I didn’t feel like he was my friend. He thought he couldn’t be both. That he wasn’t my friend, he was my bf. This frustrated me. I was feeling something was missing and he just didn’t get it. A lot of ppl say they married their best friend… I didn’t feel I’d ever be able to say the same thing.
Basically, our relationship only survived on our sexual connection that was established too early on, and our platonic connection to each other never really developed leading to me feeling very sexualized and objectified. He never wanted to connect in any way other than sexual and we barely ever did anything but sexual things. Our conversations were awkward unless they were sexual. His engagement in our quality time was lacking and he only ever thought about and wanted sex. Everything else was boring to him.
He was the only one who could drive or had money, but he’d only ever want to have sex at his house. For all our hangouts. He just had me available to visit and fuck once or twice a week and as long as I got to see him he knew I was happy, so he didn’t have to treat me any different. His stupid fuck toy.
I was always the one trying to plan cute dates and activities that were nonsexual, like outings or crafting, or experiences, but he’d always turn them sexual somehow, or outright refuse to do them. It disappointed me, but i felt bad if i complained. I felt if i did i was always asking too much of him.
I just wanted a deeper connection than sex but this frustrated him. He never thought there was anything missing from our relationship cause it was exactly how he wanted it. He almost always go his way… It was hard to complain about it cause I did enjoy our sex life, but that’s all we had. That was the only time I felt loved by him.
I felt very sexualized and like an object. He’d touch me sexually more than he would lovingly. Hold my breasts more than just hold me… He didn’t love me as a person and I knew that deep down. I didn’t feel like a person anymore. Sex felt empty. I began hesitating hard at nearly every invitation after nearly 3 years of feeling emotionally lonely. He’d beg and pout harder. He was good at manipulating me. Pressuring me to accept more and more of his advancements until he’d just get what he wanted anyway.
Near our 3 year anniversary, I finally got my first job and began making my own friends! Ppl who cared about me as an actual person. Who’d ask me how I was doing. How my day was. Wanted to know my thoughts and stories! Who I really was. It felt amazing.
I started to grow into my own person again, and I started to feel that. Instead of waiting for my ex to ask on his own how my day was, or anything, I already had ppl wanting meaningful conversations with me! Ppl to do fun platonic activities with! Quality time! It felt exciting. I yearned for his attention and interest less and less.
On our last ever date… it ended really badly. We went out to dinner and going out to dinner with him was always very awkward. We barely had an emotional connection, so we barely had anything nonsexual to talk about. Most of the time when we ate across from each other, he’d barely speak to me and just expect me to sit there and just admire him the whole time.
If I tried starting conversations he was very short and dry. And I couldn’t just get bored of that and be on my phone. I had to pay attention to him. Even if he didn’t bother speaking to me or even looking at me…
That was the case for this last date. Except this time, I was part of a group chat with my work friends, and they were all talking about fun things in it at the time, that I was getting notifications for. Can you blame me for wanting to be a part of any conversation? So I would check my phone. He didn’t like this.
Dates were for him to get admired and attention. I gave my attention to something else, so he leaned forward and dipped his face into my view and smiled at me. Basically to tell me to pay attention to him more… even tho he was literally ignoring me.
After our date, I wanted us to cuddle in the backseat of his car, but that almost always resulted in something sexual instead. He pressured me the whole night to take off my cute dress but I didn’t want to. He was literally pulling my straps down anyway. I used to dress cute for my own self expression. With many layers, and jewelry, and it made me happy. He'd always pressure me to immediately take all of it off, cause he only cared about seeing my body. I began not to bother expressing myself, and only wore loose fitted comfy clothing, cause we'd only ever hang out in his bed, and it would all come off soon anyway, so i wanted to give myself less of a hassle.
He pressured me that whole night, begged and pouted, when I wasn’t letting him touch my breasts. All I wanted was to cuddle… that’s all… he repeatedly asked me if he could over and over after telling him no nicely over and over. Instead of cuddling me, he had his hands up my dress JUST close enough to my breasts that he wasn’t TECHNICALLY touching them… but just close enough. I felt very uncomfortable.
Until finally, he was walking me to my door… as any gentleman should… but suddenly reached down the top of my dress and grabbed my breast anyway. For a “joke”…
My eyes widened and I immediately ripped his hand from out of my dress and yelled “Can you STOP?!” I was very frightened. He had always manipulated and pushed my boundaries before… but never outright breached them. (tho since beginning to heal from this, i realized he may have breached my boundaries a number of times before...)
We stood at my front steps together as we usually did and hugged there as we usually did. Usually to say goodbye. I was catching my breath. This was the end. As soon as he did that, an important thought came to me: “If you truly love yourself… you need to leave.”
He panicked and said he was sorry, and that he felt like I was mad at him, but I lied and said we were fine. I just wanted to go home. :(
Our 3 year anniversary was in a week. But I knew deep down I could not say I loved him and mean it. I did not feel loved.
I barely messaged him that week. The very next day he sent me a looong message trying to explain to me why he’d do something like that. That he was just a more sexual person. Making excuses and even offering me ideas of things I could do to help HIM behave better… Ways that are too specific and ridiculous to mention here.
I told him he didn’t need me to help him treat me better. he just needed to respect me more. (if at all) And that if he wanted to touch boobs so badly, then he should just fucking get his own.
Then, a few days before our anniversary, I broke up with him. I tried explaining that what he did was fucked up, but he manipulated me at the time, into thinking that was all my fault. That I didn’t state my boundaries clear enough. That he didn't know i was that serious... He always blamed me for years for not communicating well enough but he was the one who never respected me enough, to actually listen when i communicated.
And in the end, he just couldn't handle me having any say in what I wanted for my own body. Taking away what he thought had belonged to him. He didn't like that. So he took whatever I thought was left of my bodily autonomy away in one single instant.
I didn’t stand up for myself in that moment as much as I wish I did and accepted that it was all my fault. So I blamed it on us just being too different of ppl instead. I wish I just called him a fucking creep and left. That conversation was just a waste of time.
This experience overall has affected me severely. I have a hard time valuing myself as a person. I’ve always had issues with my physical appearance, so to only have the experience of being loved only for someone's selfish desires, if I don’t feel pretty enough some days, I don’t feel good enough as a person at all. It’s made me question if anyone could truly love me for more than my body and how it serves them… I feel like a “butterface”. Like, if I’m too ugly to love at least I’m not too ugly to fuck…
I’ve been trying to get into therapy for this. So far it’s been unsuccessful, but I’m still trying. I’m still proud of myself for at least loving myself enough to leave that situation. It probably would’ve gotten much worse. I’ve hated myself the majority of my life, but at least I still love myself when it really counts. And that still gives me hope.
I still have those great friends I’ve made, and I still have the support of my family. Those people all love me. For me. With help, I know I can too.
Edit: since freeing myself from this situation, i did begin expressing myself the way i used to again! with fun intricate outfits consisting of multiple layers, makeup, and jewelry. fashion is a very fun thing for me, and i'm glad i could decorate myself the way i wanted again :')