My husband and I have known each other for almost five years and up until recently enjoyed (in my opinion at least) an exceptionally happy marriage. Very early on in our relationship, he confessed to me that he wasn't a very sexual person. Masturbation was something he didn't like, porn something he didn't watch; "I'm not like other guys", he said. At that time, I had a vibrator that I had bought during my year as single woman, and after expressing his dislike for me having one of those, I got rid of it (for me, that wasn't important anyway). It was hard to not have sex as often as I wanted to (5 times a week or more) but I got used to it. Here I had this fantastic loyal beautiful person in my life, a wonderful gift that I couldn't believe I deserved. So many times I thought to myself; "this is too good to be true, a woman can't be this lucky". We used to joke that satisfying me in bed was another chore to do, like paying bills or washing dishes, and I could laugh about it. Now, thinking back to that time of blissful ignorance, my blood turns to ice.
One day I sat alone on the bed when his phone received a notification. From out of nowhere, I instinctively knew that it was something wrong. It was a message from a woman on messenger, an app which he had uninstalled. For some reason I installed it back and there it was, pictures of her private parts, intertwined with conversations in spanish. Devestated, I confronted him, and when he told me that it was all a big joke (he had just joked around with her for fun), I believed him. I believed him! I unpacked my bags (I had threatened to leave) and knowing his fondness for antics, I did my best to forgive him, which I did.
In the spring of 2018, out of nowhere, his personality started to change. From being loving and protective of me, he started to grow increasingly cold and distant. My attempts to cheer him up didn't work at all and it got progressively worse, with him leaving the room as soon as I walked in, no good morning kiss, and eventually, not even a "good morning". The sexlife had gone from bad to worse, with him all soft and abscent. I started to grow more and more fearful of him, devestated by his lack of emotions, beside myself with worry. What had I done to loose his affection? Was he depressed? When pushed about it, he immediately became irritable, angry, even physical at times. Pushed further, he stopped talking to me altogether with silent treatment sessions that could go on for days. I started waking up constantly in the night with the thought that something was terribly, terribly wrong. One day he said he was leaving to buy a new watch and my heart started to pound like crazy. Was he in fact going to see someone else? Paranoid to the point of no longer recognizing myself, I watched him comb his hair and put on his nicest clothes and that's when I fainted in pure terror.
Recovering from my strange fainting, I knew I had to do something; he would never tell me what had happened to our relationship no matter how kindly or desperately I asked. So I went through his search history (sorry, not sorry) in the hunt for evidence of an affair, and there it was: Thousands of entries into a porn site with teenagers. Every day more teenagers. His location was switched on, so apparently; Teens at his work. Teens in the bathroom. Teens on the way to work. Teens every minute I had gone out for errands, to walk the dog, to buy him gifts, to visit my parents. Teens first thing in the morning on valentine's day (he had denied me sex that night) and, the day after valentine's. A message to a teenager on Facebook. All of our years together - teens. He denied everything, said it was pop ups, that it was his friend sending it (even before he first met that friend!), that he "didn't remember" and other things no functioning person could ever believe unless they had some severe trepination done to their brain. He got extremely angry and physical, but now I knew, and my heart just... It just broke in a way I didn't know a heart could break.
Two months have passed. We have spoked about what happened a little (his explanation being that he used the material solely to help with unwanted erections), but now I'm forbidden to mention the subject. If I bring it up, I will be punished with more silent treatment. "We have been over this, I have said everything there is to be said about it", he says, "and I won't do it (porn) again". Then he doesn't speak to me for days on end. I'm beside myself with grief over the rejection. It's like he has been with thousands and thousands of girls, all of them younger and better than me. I feel worthless, ugly, fat, old; a naive laughable joke. If he sees me crying, which I do a lot, he will leave the house. It's my problem now; it's like he has dumped this septic tank of mental poop on me and I'm drowning in it. I try to pull myself together, to go to therapy, to do daily activities that I used to love, but everywhere I look I see teenagers and I think of him touching himself, panting looking at them and I feel so grossed out I wish I was dead. I will end this extended rant with pointing out that I'm willing to do anything to help him, to love him, to not judge him or scream at him in anyway, to stand by his side. But how to reach out to someone that doesn't wanna speak about it or acknowledge my pain?
One day I sat alone on the bed when his phone received a notification. From out of nowhere, I instinctively knew that it was something wrong. It was a message from a woman on messenger, an app which he had uninstalled. For some reason I installed it back and there it was, pictures of her private parts, intertwined with conversations in spanish. Devestated, I confronted him, and when he told me that it was all a big joke (he had just joked around with her for fun), I believed him. I believed him! I unpacked my bags (I had threatened to leave) and knowing his fondness for antics, I did my best to forgive him, which I did.
In the spring of 2018, out of nowhere, his personality started to change. From being loving and protective of me, he started to grow increasingly cold and distant. My attempts to cheer him up didn't work at all and it got progressively worse, with him leaving the room as soon as I walked in, no good morning kiss, and eventually, not even a "good morning". The sexlife had gone from bad to worse, with him all soft and abscent. I started to grow more and more fearful of him, devestated by his lack of emotions, beside myself with worry. What had I done to loose his affection? Was he depressed? When pushed about it, he immediately became irritable, angry, even physical at times. Pushed further, he stopped talking to me altogether with silent treatment sessions that could go on for days. I started waking up constantly in the night with the thought that something was terribly, terribly wrong. One day he said he was leaving to buy a new watch and my heart started to pound like crazy. Was he in fact going to see someone else? Paranoid to the point of no longer recognizing myself, I watched him comb his hair and put on his nicest clothes and that's when I fainted in pure terror.
Recovering from my strange fainting, I knew I had to do something; he would never tell me what had happened to our relationship no matter how kindly or desperately I asked. So I went through his search history (sorry, not sorry) in the hunt for evidence of an affair, and there it was: Thousands of entries into a porn site with teenagers. Every day more teenagers. His location was switched on, so apparently; Teens at his work. Teens in the bathroom. Teens on the way to work. Teens every minute I had gone out for errands, to walk the dog, to buy him gifts, to visit my parents. Teens first thing in the morning on valentine's day (he had denied me sex that night) and, the day after valentine's. A message to a teenager on Facebook. All of our years together - teens. He denied everything, said it was pop ups, that it was his friend sending it (even before he first met that friend!), that he "didn't remember" and other things no functioning person could ever believe unless they had some severe trepination done to their brain. He got extremely angry and physical, but now I knew, and my heart just... It just broke in a way I didn't know a heart could break.
Two months have passed. We have spoked about what happened a little (his explanation being that he used the material solely to help with unwanted erections), but now I'm forbidden to mention the subject. If I bring it up, I will be punished with more silent treatment. "We have been over this, I have said everything there is to be said about it", he says, "and I won't do it (porn) again". Then he doesn't speak to me for days on end. I'm beside myself with grief over the rejection. It's like he has been with thousands and thousands of girls, all of them younger and better than me. I feel worthless, ugly, fat, old; a naive laughable joke. If he sees me crying, which I do a lot, he will leave the house. It's my problem now; it's like he has dumped this septic tank of mental poop on me and I'm drowning in it. I try to pull myself together, to go to therapy, to do daily activities that I used to love, but everywhere I look I see teenagers and I think of him touching himself, panting looking at them and I feel so grossed out I wish I was dead. I will end this extended rant with pointing out that I'm willing to do anything to help him, to love him, to not judge him or scream at him in anyway, to stand by his side. But how to reach out to someone that doesn't wanna speak about it or acknowledge my pain?
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