I was in a desperate time in my life, severely depressed and suffering from PTSD. I had just been kicked out of the Army basic training for being too sick, and couldn't find a job anywhere. My aunt was kicking me out because I didn't have money for rent, in the middle of winter in Denver. I saw my only options as being a live-in housekeeper, a stripper, or finding a guy to take care of me.

I fielded some creeps, and went out with the first decent sounding guy who responded to my craigslist ad for a date. It felt wrong, but I went from dinner to a movie, and when he touched my back, my head was screaming at me "NO, NO, NO, NO, DO NOT WANT!" But I submitted to it because I thought that maybe I could get subsistence if I could just be what he wanted me to be, so that I wouldn't be out on the street. I acted like I liked it, and agreed to another date, even though I dreaded it.

Within three days, I was sleeping at his apartment although I hated myself for it, and a few days after, moved all my stuff in because I was afraid that he would say "no," and I would have nowhere to keep the little I had. I couldn't even afford the registration for my car.

Within three weeks, I was sleeping with him, although I would have sooner cut my own hand off if it guaranteed my subsistence, thinking that if I gave him whatever he wanted, I could at least have a roof over my head. I cleaned his apartment, hoping that if I was useful enough, and pleasing enough, he wouldn't kick me out. Whatever I had to do, whatever I had to be, to survive, I thought I was lucky that anyone would even take in damaged goods like me.

Then I got an STI... you know, down THERE. It came as a surprise. Then I figured that even if I got back on my feet, NOBODY would want me after that. So I egged him into proposing to me, but I did it subtly, so that he would think it was his idea. When he did, I wanted to scream, "NO!" but I acted excited, I think, and said "yes." And my heart sank. But I figured that I owed it to him, for taking me in, and for my leading him on... and because I thought nobody else would ever want me.

When I said "I do" at the 'paperwork' wedding... the dissociation and sense of loss and horror at what I had done was overwhelming, because I had truly wanted to say, "I can't, I don't want to, please please don't make me!" At the wedding for the family, I could not honestly and soberly repeat my vows in front of them, so I ended up getting inebriated beforehand, because I thought... "If I can't say it sober, I guess I'll have to find a way that I CAN say it." And after that ceremony, after the numbing effects of the alcohol wore off, the heartbreak nearly tore me in half.

I care about this guy... as a friend. I want the best for him. But I don't want him to touch me. I never did. And I really, really, REALLY don't want to have sex with him. I never did want to. I tried to want to. I made a list of all of his good attributes, I tried to be attracted to him. I tried to want him. After six years, I still don't. I've submitted, I've prayed to God. I gave and served, because that's what I was supposed to do. I still do. But I don't want to.

I don't have an aversion to sex itself. But think of one person you were just never attracted to, no matter how many good qualities they might have. You can appreciate and respect and care about them, but you'd slap a restraining order on them if they tried to touch you intimately. You know, if you hadn't gone and married them.

Oh, and in the midst of the depression, about three years into the marriage... I didn't care what happened to me. I let him have sex whenever he wanted, and, oops, I got pregnant. So now we have a little girl who's almost two and a half years old.

Yes, I've submitted myself. No, I'm not looking for a divorce. Yes, I've done the Love Dare, watched Fireproof, gone through Love and Respect, done Lies Women Believe. Yes, I know what I'm "supposed to do." Yes, regardless of circumstances, I got myself into a situation, I made a promise that binds me for life. I made my bed, now I have to lay in it.

I know my heart is supposed to be in it... but it isn't.

I give him sex multiple times a week, clean house, am a stay at home mom. No, I don't have a problem doing that. I have a problem with *wanting* to do that.

No, I have no desire to hurt the man I married. No, I have no desire to be back in the same situation that led me to say "yes" to this one.

I realize that this is, whether I like it or not, now a family unit because we have a child, and it is my duty to stay and attend my obligations and responsibilities. No, I don't have a problem doing that.

My heart isn't in it.

But I obey, I submit, like a good wife should. Because that's what I signed up to do. And I am bound to my word, before man and God.

Last edited by ImpossibleGirl; 09/09/16 03:34 AM.