You know I share a lot of sexual stuff but today will be different so just scroll past this; I honestly don’t care.
I didn’t know I was pregnant when I was 23 and miscarried in St Patrick’s Day. It was super early on and that morning I called my boyfriend and cried and was shaking and just flat out not okay. He was six years older than me and working a night shift management gig for a super predatory loan company and promised he would go with my to my 8am obgyn appointment. He didn’t show and I found out I would most likely never have my own children. I told the doctor they had switched my birth control on my last visit and I had been severely depressed and suicidal since they had. The male doctor brushed me off and wrote down I was overly emotional when I was crying about how I couldn’t stop thinking about killing myself and a month prior I was so happy and full of life. It wasn’t me. I tried calling my boyfriend for hours terrified he got in an accident since he missed the appointment. He told me he just drove straight home and fell asleep, forgetting that I was going to the doctor.
We dated for three years and everyday was hell, especially at the end. He brought up how he had an ex who checked herself into a mental hospital and I could only nimbly think that I was next. I cried after we had sex almost every time at the end. I could tell his view of me changed. I was not his sexy little girlfriend, I was his hurt and broken girlfriend that could never give him a family. I don’t think he even knew he felt that way but every touch and word he gave me showed me that. There was no love. We broke up for a month or two and he invited me over one day when we were getting back together and said he wanted to please me. He put me on my hands and knees and blindfolded me. He played with me, stuck ice in me, and started fucking me woth what I though was a dildo but turned out to be a hairbrush. He showed me what I came with and I wanted to throw up. I didn’t want to be fucked by that and started crying and said I didn’t want that inside me. He asked why and I was to proud to say I was humiliated by it and told him it was trashy. He called me an elitist and gave examples of all of his female friends that did. He shamed me telling me women didn’t always have money to buy dildos. I don’t think we used protection the rest of our relationship and we never had pregnancy again despite all the nonstop sex. It was almost a punishment to see how no matter how often I let him cum inside me, I could never do that one thing you were supposed to do as a woman.
On my 25th birthday he told me he would be out of town for his friend Angelique’s wedding. He promised he would make the day we did celebrate action packed and he had everything planned. He had nothing planned and drove around from place to place. When he would begin to see me having fun we had to leave immediately. That Saturday on my actual birthday I celebrated with two friends and waited for my boyfriend to call since he said he would come by after the wedding. He told me he was too tired from Becca’s wedding. He never showed. His birthday was a month after mine and I rented a car to allow him to drive to New York to visit his family, we were living in the south. He fell asleep and I picked up his phone to take a sexy picture for him to be surprised with. I unlocked his phone and a text came through from a girl named Megan begging for him to call her when he made it home safe. I frowned and did the one thing I never did before, went through the messages. He had been talking to her, seeing her, fucking her since we went on our break the fall before. I was crushed and carefully took pictures of the messages and her number on my phone. I woke him up and confronted him with everything and he cried saying the whole reason he was going to New York was to talk to his dad to try to stop cheating. We stayed together and I found out the wedding he went to was with her. I’m still angry at her but mostly because I was just as foolish as she was and it hurt.
We finally separated before my 26th birthday. It hurt. Mostly because I was so embarrassed I let him mentally and emotionally abuse me for so long. Sexually too but I have a harder time recognizing all of the sex was that way. I still kept in contact with him for a few months and we still fucked, him buying a hotel room to fucking me in after saying he wanted a special night out in this sexy dress I bought for Vegas. It barely covers my ass and was cut super low. I showed up all dolled up. He showed up I’m gym shorts and a ball cap. I don’t know if you have ever gone out looking like a prostitute when your partner didn’t match how sexy you looked but it stung. He even made me go up to the hotel front desk for my key so everyone saw me dressed like that. I didn’t really care. I knew it would be the last time I fucked him though we would flirt and phone sex for months after. The last time I saw him was for his birthday, I got tickets to a concert and he cried the whole way there about being a father and how it wasn’t fair we lost the kid. At least I think, I can’t remember which was last. But that night was the first time he seemed to truely understand the loss in the way I did.
I tried to be his friend even after all of that. I’m just nice and I didn’t want all of those years we spent together to mean nothing. It had been three years since I lost our child and I texted him crying on st pattricks day, devastated. I was barely an adult, almost a kid still when it happened. At least that is what it felt like. I was a full blown woman now, sexy and fun with a career just not the family. He understood and was kind. The loss hit me hard for that stretch of St Pattricks Day until Mother’s Day. It was like this ache inside of me. So empty and I knew it probably will not be filled. He texted me that he got someone else pregnant. I did the math and we had sex in the time they he knocked her up. The baby was due on my birthday by the math. It was cruel to tell me on Mother’s Day she was so far along and he had plenty of time but he waited until then to tell me. It was like a brag that he won almost it stung. I didn’t take it well.
He was horrible and I’m angry I ever let that happen but it’s Mother’s Day the year after and his new wife and kid and her two other kids are happy, maybe with him. I am happy I never have to see his face or hear his voice again. I just hope he treats them better than he did me. I know he won’t, he loves the pain too much and I hope they can find peace and get out if they need to. Fuck you Chris, I hope life treats you kinder than you treated me or every day would be hell, I am so thankful you told me you didn’t see a future woth me because I created a better one than you ever thought I was capable of.
I am in a happy, healthy relationship now with a man who loves me very much even if it gets hard. He is so polite and kind it almost seems fake but it’s genuine. That took a long time to get used to being treated so nice and we had a lot of breakdowns because it was so hard to trust it wasn’t just a way to make me turn a blind eye to something fucked up. Not everything is perfect because no relationship is perfect but to have such a pure and honest love has been earth shattering to have. I don’t deserve all of the support and kindness he gives me but I hope that I continue to try and earn it. I love him very much.
So anyway, Happy Mother’s Day. Maybe motherhood came to you in ways you didn’t expect, want, or sorely wished you had, but things will get better with time and with love. Stay safe out there.
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