It’s difficult for me to believe that Mike still likes what he sees in me. After almost six months of being together, our sex life has slowed down a bit (at least two to four times each week instead of six to eight like the first couple months) to a more realistic amount of sex for my vagina (that still makes me irrationally question the validity of his attraction), and he doesn’t touch me as often (subtle touches here and there, grab my butt, wrap his arm around my waist). He still does it, but it’s been half-lifed just like the sex.
I probably wouldn’t be questioning any of this if it weren’t for the six shitty months I spent with someone who wasn’t worthy of me. And I’m not the type of asshole who thinks she’s better than anyone (except who I’m going to tell you about now), so hear me out.
My last relationship was a total nightmare, except when it wasn’t, which wasn’t often enough to make up for the shit he put me through. For reference purposes, I’m going to call him Gozada (goh-ZAH-dah), because that’s what my friend Tyra called him after finding out about his fascination with everything anal (more about that at another time). And it’s not that I want to protect his identity, because fuck him, but he’s not worthy of anyone knowing who he is.
For six months, I let Gozada tell me that I’m “not the most beautiful girl”, and that he “doesn’t see the point in trying to be with the same person for life”, amid a plethora of beliefs and pieces of holier-than-thou advice meant to tear down the confidence I’d built up in my first 29 years of life.
This is also the same person that admitted to raping a neighbor girl when he was a child of the age that current American society would probably deem too young to even understand what he was doing, and then a neighbor boy when he was definitely old enough to know better. He also told me about getting off to child pornography as an adult, even sometimes while we were dating. Why did I consider his opinion valid? Why did I even stick around this monster? It’s amazing what a damaged mind will choose to ignore when it seeks any form of love it can get.
Mind you, I was slightly damaged when I first started dating Gozada. He continued to push the knife, that I had already stuck into the first few layers by myself, quite a bit deeper. And he kept digging it in, and I kept letting him. At this point, I refuse to be mad at myself about staying in that situation because I learned a whole shitload from it.
Because of the emotional damage that Gozada imparted on my already messed up psyche, I find myself questioning not only my worthiness of Mike’s love, but that of my friends and family, as well as my own. I have been very open with Mike about everything that I went through, and he knew about it before coming into this relationship. He knows I’m a strong-willed, independent woman, but he also knows my vulnerabilities.
Shame fills me every time I ask Mike, and I know his answer already, but the ominous cloud of doubt will not blow over, so my mouth is often forced to form the words, “are you sure you’re still attracted to me?” I’m waiting for the day he decides he’s sick of having to reassure me that he still loves my body and face, in addition to the spirited mind behind them.
Here’s to hoping that day doesn’t come before I can refrain from asking again.