I thought for a long time about whether to write this… in the end I decided that maybe my words would help someone. This subject has been close to me for eight years… I feel like I’ve already read everything there is about it… I also believe my few words will serve as a warning…
I’ll start from the beginning… I’m 26 and I’ve been in a relationship for almost eight years. I knew my other half long before that… we’ve been through a lot together… On our first Valentine’s Day he told me he had a problem with pornography… Back then it seemed impossible to me. A problem? Porn is, was and always will be around; I’d “used” it myself now and then, but I’d never have called it a problem… I supported him, we talked… for the first six months… The next seven years were an endless story of lies, tears, fights… There was me, held by his hand…
And in his other hand he always held a ton of filth from the internet… I have to add here that I’m not one of those good, quiet little girls, I’m not some sanctimonious prude chasing every sinner with a cross… Every time it was the same script… my discovery, his lies… days of silence, a huge fight, pleading, threats… enormous hurt… and attempts (mine… to go on living with it). I lived, I held on, because, after all, love, I love him… We moved in together, then came his assurances of a big change, that it was all thanks to me and so on… Blah blah blah… The engagement… after all that suffering I thought things would start to work out, that it would be fine… and just once I was tempted to check… Nothing had changed… a whole pile of it… With the evidence in my hands, I was told I was overreacting… The ring given back, and I’m looking for a flat… For many years I had the strength, for many years I had hope in me, the will to help…
What else can I add? We had wonderful sex… he had what he wanted… an attractive woman ready to do anything… (today I wonder what for; today I know that every kind of thing we did was only a reflection of what his eyes had seen… his eyes, which were closed when we were together). Litres of tears, a feeling of hurt, and a change… a cheerful, always happy girl, the life and soul of the party… into someone who trembles inside and puts on a mask when she goes out among people… Because, after all, you don’t talk about this out loud…
My ex-fiancé was thrown, because I said something he’ll probably remember (and he was hellishly jealous of me…). What did I say? “I hope that one day someone does to me what you watch when you reach for your penis…”
I’m sorry, but I don’t believe this can be beaten… I’m destroyed inside… burnt out to the core… I often tell myself that nothing’s really happening, people have disabilities, illnesses, problems… Believe me… this IS A PROBLEM… A huge one. I have eight years cut out of my life… and the most wonderful memories can’t, and never will, cover up this pain, hurt, fear, sense of humiliation, anxieties, worries, suspicions…
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