by kjmccart » Sat Dec 11, 2010 5:14 pm
It's nice to hear I'm not the only one going crazy inside! I seriously live in a prison of insecurity around my boyfriend; it's torture. I think mostly it started because of his porn habit--I never had a problem with porn before we dated and before I realized he viewed it all the time. Going through his history and watching what he watched would give me those anxious, heart racing feelings you all are talking about. I would sit around and cry and freak out about the girls he looked at and compare myself to them. He did this for a couple of years and we constantly fought about it and it was like an endless cycle of him viewing porn, me withholding sex (I seriously couldn't bring myself to let him see me naked after this; it wasn't out of "punishment"), and on and on. He has not looked at porn for about 6 months now ( he has no internet anymore ). He finally stopped after I broke up with him, and so I took him back. He has definitely changed, for which I am grateful. He's never really looked at girls in front of me or made comments, and he has always been attracted to me and told me I'm beautiful. He's such a good boyfriend other than the porn thing, that it made me feel like a crazy asshole for being so obsessed with it. I used to be extremely confident and sure of myself and even enjoyed watching films with pretty girls and commented on their beauty (sincerely) around men and boyfriends. Now I am the most insecure, jealous woman you will ever meet. Like many of you, I watch his eyes in public. When we watch movies together with attractive women (especially nude scenes) I cry, and I feel hopeless. I try not to let him see. I say things like, "She's your type, huh?" and I constantly complain about the apparent need for hot, naked women in movies. I obsess about nude scenes throughout the whole entire movie, which ruins it for me. I don't even know what's going on in the movie. I pull away from him if he touches me during said movies and accuse him of being turned on by these women, and thinking of them while he touches me. I take prescription painkillers or xanax to numb these feelings while we're watching movies or before we go out when I know there will be attractive women around. I really don't give a crap what he does when I'm on these! I wish this could be my state of mind all the time! Luckily I can't get my hands on them too often or I would have a more serious problem on my hands. (I end up taking about 1 or 2 a week). I hoard them for the worst of these occasions.
I go through his magazines and tear out ads with attractive women. I go to yoga, and he sometimes comes with me (he's a serious surfer and it helps him with his balance, coordination, flexibility, etc). I have panic attacks all throughout those yoga classes and constantly watch his eyes and the beautiful, tightly-clothed women surrounding us, comparing myself to them. Seriously, that is the worst, and completely defeats the purpose of yoga! Who has ever left a yoga class more stressed than they were going in!!
The porn really bothered me because of how fake the women are, I feel like he thinks that's what a vagina should look like (labiaplasty, anyone?) and those tiny, perfect nipples and huge, tanned breasts are what I should have (same with the girls in movies and magazines). And the perfect makeup and hair. But I tell myself he has been with real women before, who look like me, not the girls in magazines. But those women are what get him off! Those fake, perfectly airbrushed women. So if he could have whatever he wanted, it would be them. He doesn't have to settle for someone like me on the internet and in his fantasies. I don't think I will ever get over it, even though he has stopped, because I know that is what he really wants.
I wish I could believe all men are not like this, but after spending time scouring the internet for evidence of truth in this wishful thinking, I am more discouraged than ever. Either they are sex-crazed or a liar. I really, really with I could just be a lesbian. I miss being confident and not worrying about other women. I try to tell myself he is just a man; he really does have no more control over his desires than a monkey. He's lucky to have me (I know am the most attractive woman he's been with--see? There's that old confidence peaking out, ha ha). Appreciating the diverse beauty of humanity is a pleasurable part of being human, and we are all entitled to it; it shouldn't be a crime, it should be celebrated. But it's hard when men are such obviously drooling, lusty animals!
God it feels good to just type this all out to people who understand, instead of uselessly, uncontrollably crying about it to someone who never will.