Read Part 1 Here
This was a man who knew me in ways no one else did. He always seemed to know what I needed sometimes before I did. He allowed me in every part of his life except one. I never saw his home. He claimed it was because his ex-wife was there. He said they had divorced but because she couldn’t afford to live on her own, he had agreed to help and let her live with him. I was a naive fool, for I accepted his explanation.
One weekend he took me on a trip to a conference a state over. We would stay overnight. In the evening he introduced me to a friend and sat in a bar talking with him. I found myself attracted to him and his friend sort of flirted with me and the guy I was with didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to enjoy it and didn’t seem to mind at all my attraction to the other guy. I never considered a threesome and I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had.
(I think the reason I never thought of a threesome is when I’m with a guy, I’m with HIM. Even when I feel attracted to another man, I’m still with HIM. As much as I’ve had affairs with married men I’ve never been with someone else when I was in a relationship with a man. I’ve never cheated. To me it was the married men who cheated and not me. I know a strange division of moral ethics.)
We left to start our drive back home. It was snowing and the roads were getting covered in snow. There weren’t many cars on the streets and we took our time getting to the hotel. During the drive I was suddenly swamped with those overwhelming feelings I get in all relationships. I groaned to myself, “why now!” but was never given an answer. I looked at my situation and I knew I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t run like all the other times for I was trapped with this guy until he got me home which wouldn’t be until the next day and with the snow much later than we would expect. I couldn’t pretend everything was all right. I’ve never been able to do that. I couldn’t go through the motions of having sex with him because I knew he would know the difference and I just couldn’t do that to him.
I sat in that car feeling trapped and having a conversation with myself in my head. At no time did he ever interrupt me or do a single thing that would distract me. (This is how well he knew me, for if he had interrupted I don’t think what happened would have and I would have remained as I was.)
In my head I finally acknowledged that I needed to understand where these feelings were coming from, what they were and why. So… I slowly descended inside of myself, into the dark recesses of my soul and my memories and I looked back through all the broken relationships to when I felt this way for the very first time. The image of my father stopping me outside of our church that night before choir practice came flooding back to me. I knew I didn’t have to look any further. I also finally accepted the fact that night had terrified me and these were the feelings I had every time in every relationship.
I was scared. I asked myself why, what was I afraid of, and all I could think of was that I was afraid I would end up like I had been that day, on the sidewalk telling a man I both loved and hated that I couldn’t live with him. I never wanted to hurt like that again and yet I knew in every relationship I had made that very thing happen. When I realized that I knew I could step beyond my fear.
I slowly came back to the surface, back into the light and back into the car. I felt relieved. For the first time I felt like I didn’t have to run. I had been sitting in the center of the front seat next to this man I was with. I hugged his arm tighter and snuggled into him. He spoke for the first time since I had been flooded with fear. He asked me where I had gone because for the past fifteen or twenty minutes I had no longer been in the car with him. So I told him my story, the one I just told you.
I think we would have been together forever if it hadn’t been for him shutting me out of that one part of his life. Eventually I realized he was most likely lying to me, but I didn’t accuse him of it. Things started to slip because that part of his life started interfering with us, our ability to be together and one day I asked him where I was on his list of priorities. I wasn’t the first, I wasn’t even the second, I was way down on his list and so I walked. It hurt like hell but I walked.
I bumped into him one day when I was with a couple who were my friends. He pulled me aside for a private talk and told me he wanted me back. I asked him if anything had changed. He said no. I said then I couldn’t come back and walked away. The husband of my friend told his wife, who told me later, that he said he hoped he never got me that angry at him, if looks could kill that man would be dead. I’ve been told before how my anger can be so clearly seen and that it can be a terrible thing to look upon. I never want to be angry at anyone, but loving someone and having them not understand the repercussions of their choices on the one who loves them can be horrific and it awakens the anger that has been within me since I was a child living with people who abused the love I had for them.
I’ve been able to get past the fear in relationships, but getting past the fear didn’t fix the problems that would eventually have me leaving. Secretly with all the men, I wished they would take more control. The bedroom was where it was most noticeable for me because I never felt comfortable being the one to take over control. When I did I felt uncomfortable so sex wasn’t the greatest. When I tried to take the back seat and let them take control, sex was mediocre. Orgasms were hard to come by. Mostly I know the problems all stemmed from lack of communication, honest communication. I wanted to talk but I couldn’t make my mouth work or my vocal cords to make a sound. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings and yet I knew in the long run I would by walking away.
Through all of this I never stopped liking men. What I found interesting was if I set my sights on a particular man, I could usually get him. But what I really wanted, was for a man who really wanted me and to make the effort to bring me into his fold so to speak. But no one ever did, unless you count the married men and a guy at work who everyone teased me was my puppy dog. But he didn’t make an effort, he just drooled and followed me around and looked at my boobs. Not respectful at all and I wanted to be respected.
But then I couldn’t very well expect others to respect me when I had very little respect for myself. I had several affairs with married men over the years. Some were one time only situations, others were ongoing affairs those would all end the same, with me ending the affair feeling disgusted with myself. One I even stayed with throughout his divorce to only have him drop me in the end. I had been a fool to think he would want to stick around with me.
When I finally hit rock bottom is when things started to change and you can read that story here.
I look back and I see so many signs that were pointing me in the direction of trying to understand and accept my submissive nature, to recognize how the things that happened in my childhood had molded me and effected my relationships. For the longest time I was in denial. I believed I was fine, that I just needed to find the right person. But time and time again it never happened. I never found a man strong enough or confident enough to see through the walls I had surrounding me. However, I do know, if a dominant man had tried to take control I would have been so frightened I would have run immediately. I had to first recognize I am submissive and then I had to accept it and then choose whether I wanted a dominant man in my life.
The End of The Beginning
unless you want to read the addendum