Sex hid video

2020.10.27 17:14 15throw15away15 Video hid sex

I tried posting this to legaladvice, but they just took it down. I don't know why and I'm incredibly frustrated that I can't even post this shit to that sub because of the stupid rules.
This is a long story. I've tried to sum it up as best as I can. But it's still long. I just want one person to read this at least. Just one. I'm leaving out some details because it would take up an entire book if I were to write everything out.
Important prefaces - my dad is a mentally and emotionally abusive narcissistic control freak who has messed me up big time over the years. I also have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and dropped out of school in 10th grade due to mental issues. I'm ALSO extremely, very against porn, not for religious reasons even, I'm an atheist. I just believe that a man should be 100% loyal to his woman, and not even look at other women in any way (and vice versa). Porn/sex work is also a very fucked up industry in general. Say what you want about that, that's not what I'm here to discuss anyways. It's not up for debate. But it's integral information.
That being said, I've had a lot of mental health issues starting from a very young age, stemming from my dad's mistreatment of me and from intense bullying at school, as well as other events that have occurred throughout my life - including being raped/sexually assaulted when I was 14.
I also started being very promiscuous way too early on. I got my first computer at 8 years old and found hardcore porn, which I got addicted to. From 8 to 14 I was addicted to porn and saw myself as an object. A young girl viewing porn is a much different perspective than that of a guys. I was way too sexual for a child. Part of the reason behind this was probably the issues I had with my father being distant and emotionally unavailable. (I'm 18 now and haven't watched porn in like 3 years or so. I hate it so much). Anyways.
When I was 15, I was very alone and very vulnerable. My brother, who is 6 years older than me, felt bad. I was friendless. So he started to bring me sometimes when he would go over to his friend's house to watch UFC fights, or whatever. We'll call this friend "Bob".
Whenever I'd go with my brother to Bob's house to hang out, there would be maybe 3-5 of his friends there collectively. It wasn't just him and Bob. His friends girlfriends would sometimes come along too, so I wasn't always the only girl in the room.
Bob and all of my brother's other friends were normal and never really gave a fuck about me. In fact most of his friends just kind of disregarded me and I would sit there and watch the TV quietly and smoke weed. (I started dabbling with weed at around 14, my brother smokes it too, so do his friends. It's always just helped me cope).
But this friend, Bob, had an older brother. We'll call him Todd. Keep in mind - when I was 15, my brother and his friends were all around 21-22 years old. Bob's brother, Todd, was 24 at the time.
Well, I happened to be there one day when Todd came down to chill with everyone for the first time. He didn't always come down, because he was a loner. He saw me and it seemed like he immediately took notice of me. He knew I was young, and knew I was the sibling of one of his brother's friends.
He started paying special attention to me. I remember him asking me what my favorite music was/what kind of music I listened to. I replied that I'd been listening to a lot of Soundgarden lately. He then played a Soundgarden music video on the computer. He would smile at me and look at me a lot.
After that, I'd keep coming to hang out, and I'd see him more and more. Eventually, I asked him for his snapchat. Yes, I was the one who did that, oddly enough. I was lonely, vulnerable, and in need of attention. This older man was giving me that attention, so I latched onto it and went out of my way to get his snapchat. He didn't protest. He added me back and started chatting with me from there.
I began sending him nudes. At 15 years old. He gladly accepted them and would tell me (actual quotes) that I'm "his little treasure", that I'm "juicy", and that he's "counting down the days until I turn 16". 16 is the age of consent here in Canada. I wish it fucking wasn't. My naive self reveled in the attention he gave me. I became very attached to this guy.
A couple months passed and eventually I started sneaking out late at night to go and hang out with Todd by myself. He worked the evening shift at a factory, and ended work at 11pm. I would sneak out at around 2-3am almost every night, walk to his house which was 5 minutes away, and hang out with him until 4 or 5 in the morning. Sometimes even 6. This obviously started messing my sleep schedule up a lot.
He let me smoke his weed and always gave me some to have. He started buying me cigarettes too, since I started mixing tobacco with weed when I'd smoke bongs (I quit tobacco since then, it's been over a year).
He never made a creepy move on me when I'd come and hang out. We would always hang out in this "smoking room" in his basement. It had a lock and everything. He could have done something but he didn't. It wasn't until a few weeks of hanging out with him like that, that I asked if he wanted to kiss me at the door when I was about to go home. He said yes and had this childish look on his face, like a kid in a candy store who was super giddy. I gave him a peck on the lips and then left. Yes, he let a 15 year old walk at night alone that late.
Note that this guy was a virgin at 24. Never even kissed a girl, I don't think. Meanwhile, I had lost my virginity at 14 with a guy my age and had more experience since then. I know, I know. I wish I hadn't done it that young.
After that kiss, we decided we were dating. It became apparent to Bob, my brother's friend, that I was hanging out with his older brother Todd. Bob was weirded out and concerned by that, so he went to my brother to let him know. My brother questioned me about it, but I managed to convince him nothing was wrong and that it was ok. I don't know how. Apparently, Todd had also contacted my brother telling him that he liked me or something to that effect, and my brother just told Todd that it's "her choice whether she dates you or not".
So we started dating. Next up was to try and convince my parents that it was ok. At first, they lightly tried telling me that it wasn't a good idea. However, I never once remember them sternly trying to explain to me the intentions of this older dude or why he wasn't what he seemed to be. They just sort of... barely tried to tell me it was not a great idea, and then gave up. Nobody talked to Todd himself, nobody went to Todd's parents. Everyone was just trying to tell a mentally unstable 15 year old that this older guy "wasn't a good idea", as if I had the capacity to listen and understand that I was being groomed and taken advantage of. Which they didn't even explicitly say.
Part of why they gave up was because me, having BPD and a plethora of attachment issues and daddy issues, would have HUGE episodes if anyone tried coming between me and Todd in the slightest. To the point where I was suicidal and saying I'd kill myself if I couldn't see him.
If my parents tried telling me not to sleep over at his house or something, I would go into a rage, into a panic, into chaos. I'd scream and cry and self harm. They came to a "deal" that I was allowed to sleep over at his house only once a week, and I took it. They eventually just accepted the relationship and didn't protest anymore. I would bring him over, I'd go over to his house, and everything was... "normal". My dad even said "you know what, I actually kinda like this guy" to my mom.
Before we started dating, I made sure to express my hatred of porn to Todd, and I expressed, crystal clear, that I expect a man to be 100% loyal and keep his eyes to me. I do the same thing when in a relationship. I'm just very monogamous. He agreed and assured me that he stopped watching porn altogether for me, and that he was only looking at the photos I'd send him. He had so many nudes of me saved on his phone. I was young and naive, so naturally I bought his lies of loyalty.
Anyways - I met his parents and he met mine. I would go to family gatherings with him and meet his relatives. He met my grandma and he was there with me when my cat who I loved very much passed away.
It became so normalized. But over time it became more and more clear how dysfunctional the relationship was.
The relationship slowly morphed into more and more fights. My BPD went from being triggered around him rarely, to being triggered constantly. I had huge episodes around him where he would just ignore me, leave the room to let me suffer and panic and break down by myself, and just overall not respond properly at all. If he did try to comfort me, the effort was shallow and he gave up very quickly. Admittedly, I sometimes became so uncontrollable in my episodes that I hit him a few times during the relationship. I'm not proud of that but he would always just take it from me and the most he'd do is say, "don't hit me" in an annoyed voice.
He never learned anything. We dated for a year and a half before we broke up. Throughout that year and a half, his responses to my breakdowns remained a constant, each time, even after having serious conversations with him about my mental state and giving him advice and tips on how he should respond accordingly when I become that way. (yes I have looked into therapy. I've gone through 8+ therapists and will try again).
He never treated me like a girlfriend but rather as a friend with benefits.
The fights would never end. I would cry and beg him to change certain habits, like sleeping in way too late, smoking way too much weed and tobacco, not showing me much affection, not washing his hair. Just lazy habits that over time began to piss me off. He would ALWAYS cry with me at the end of fights promising to change and yet he wouldn't. Each time. And my weak ass couldn't leave. I was way too attached. But I was going insane.
I realized after so long that I didn't actually love him at all, and I was only with him out of fear that nobody else would want me or deal with me. He used to be an escape from my home life, he used to have me infatuated with him and obsessed with him. But he just became another problem to face. I didn't love him anymore, I don't think I ever truly did in my naive mind. He was constantly blaming me for my episodes and telling me to get help but he would be the cause of my episodes more than half the time. The entire relationship was so fucked up. I would legitimately go insane with the breakdowns I'd have, hitting my head against brick walls, pulling at my hair, screaming, crying. I experienced those episodes time and time again in part because of his actions towards me.
For example, he knew abandonment was a huge, giant, terrible fear of mine. Earlier on in the relationship, he left to a cottage trip without telling me and stayed a week while I was at home falling apart because he seemingly dropped off the face of earth and wouldn't respond to me. He refused to talk to me and only started picking up the phone at the end of his stay. That shit fucked me up. It doesn't sound that bad typed out but it was a punch to my gut.
Anyways. In June of this year, I found the proof that took the blinders off my eyes for good. I was on his phone, (in front of him, he let me go on it) and in the vault of my nudes, I found a sexual instagram text post. I immediately became suspicious and went to find instagram on his phone. It wasn't even downloaded. So I went to his browser, typed in "instagram" and it immediately came up as an often-used suggestion. Low and behold, he had made an entire fake account that he hid from me that he used SOLELY for looking at half naked IG models and pornographic stuff.
And he did all that when he had an entire vault of my own nudes. It was an encryption app called Keepsafe that requires a pass code to get in. That's where he kept all of the nudes I'd sent him, over 300 of them.
This guy was a porn addict from day 1 and hid it from me the entire time. He "used" to watch porn in VR. Pathetic.
When I found that shit, I IMMEDIATELY got up, told him to delete all my stuff off his phone, and left home. He tried yelling after me that he still loves me and I just screamed at him, bloody murder, that his ass did not love me when he was doing that shit behind my back.
After a few days I went to his house to make sure that app with my nudes on it was uninstalled off his phone. It was still on his phone, of course, so I made him uninstall it in front of me. He did. But I was still paranoid that if he reinstalled the app, the photos would come back. So I made him reinstall it to show me.
A log in screen came up. He hastily said "see, look, it's gone, it's just a log in screen now" and then quickly put his phone away and didn't let me see it again.
I am almost certain he logged back in and still has my underage nudes on his phone.
A few weeks or days after that, he hand wrote me a letter which he managed to give to my brother when he saw him hanging out with his brother Bob.
This is the letter: https://imgur.com/a/bJANVKQ
Very creepy and poorly written.
I also found out after we broke up that he made a fake account to stalk me on instagram with after I blocked him. On that account, he was following several 16 year old girls (!!!) and some dirty porn type of profiles. He was also following ALMOST EVERY ACCOUNT THAT I WAS FOLLOWING. Including my new boyfriend. When I found out about that account, which he made under a fake name, I messaged it a lengthy paragraph informing it that I knew it was him and that I have notified the police of his predatory behavior, which isn't a lie - I did, in fact, call the police and open a case on him shortly after we broke up and I realized he was a pedo, basically.
Here is the message I wrote: https://imgur.com/a/f4Y6mlR
After I sent that message, he became unhinged and started harassing me.
He made 8+ fake accounts under fake names, one after the other. He started messaging me paragraphs about how fucked up I was, comparing me to my dad, telling me I was just like him the entire time, sending me articles about "BPD abuse", writing me huge text walls filled with poison. He would go on my reddit account and stalk that too. He also viewed my LINKED IN which I haven't used in years. He would send me quotes about "narcissists ghosting their victims", implying that I was a narcissist who was merely just ghosting him.
Here are some of the messages he sent me off his fake accounts: https://imgur.com/a/fKe7OON
After this stalking and harrassment begun, I got into contact with police again and updated them on the situation. It was a lengthy process of phone calls and submitting screenshots of evidence only to be fucking useless in the end.
All this creepy motherfucker got was a phone call from an officer telling him to stop harassing me. They told him that "if he continues then his actions could cross into the realm of criminal". What was NOT criminal about everything he did to me? From dating me in the first place, to stalking and harassing me the second he knew my rejection was finalized?
The cop just closed my case after talking to him on the phone.
I want justice. I want that shit off his phone gone. I want to KNOW that he does not have my underage lewd photos anymore.
My parents and brother, after the whole ordeal, after I realized how screwed up everything was, had an "I told you so" attitude about it toward me. My brother refuses to delete Todd off his social media because "it's very awkward and I don't want to see him again at Bob's house knowing I unadded him". I will forever hate that he's even sparing this piece of shit's feelings in any way after what I went through with him.
My new partner is amazing, honest, and kind. He is only 3 years older. He has shown me what a normal, loving relationship should look like and I haven't been aggressive to him in any way like I was with my ex. I am significantly better off mentally with my current partner.
My question is: what the fuck do I do? The police didn't give a shit, even when I told them he was PREDATORY and following 16 year old girls. They didn't search his phone after I said that I'm scared he still has my underage nudes on it. So who the hell will deal with him? Everyone in my life turned a blind eye to my fucked up "relationship" with him. I can't just let this go, I cannot let this piece of perverted shit go scott free with just a fucking phone call from police. Fuck the police.
I need advice. Please. Someone. Anyone.
submitted by 15throw15away15 to Advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.27 16:51 ThrowRA15151516 Sex hid video

*Note: I posted this already to another sub from a different throwaway account. I had to make a new one to post on this sub because of the username rule.
This is a long story. I've tried to sum it up as best as I can. But it's still long. I just want one person to read this at least. Just one. I'm leaving out some details because it would take up an entire book if I were to write everything out.
Important prefaces - my dad is a mentally and emotionally abusive narcissistic control freak who has messed me up big time over the years. I also have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and dropped out of school in 10th grade due to mental issues. I'm ALSO extremely, very against porn, not for religious reasons even, I'm an atheist. I just believe that a man should be 100% loyal to his woman, and not even look at other women in any way (and vice versa). Porn/sex work is also a very fucked up industry in general. Say what you want about that, that's not what I'm here to discuss anyways. It's not up for debate. But it's integral information.
That being said, I've had a lot of mental health issues starting from a very young age, stemming from my dad's mistreatment of me and from intense bullying at school, as well as other events that have occurred throughout my life - including being raped/sexually assaulted when I was 14.
I also started being very promiscuous way too early on. I got my first computer at 8 years old and found hardcore porn, which I got addicted to. From 8 to 14 I was addicted to porn and saw myself as an object. A young girl viewing porn is a much different perspective than that of a guys. I was way too sexual for a child. Part of the reason behind this was probably the issues I had with my father being distant and emotionally unavailable. (I'm 18 now and haven't watched porn in like 3 years or so. I hate it so much). Anyways.
When I was 15, I was very alone and very vulnerable. My brother, who is 6 years older than me, felt bad. I was friendless. So he started to bring me sometimes when he would go over to his friend's house to watch UFC fights, or whatever. We'll call this friend "Bob".
Whenever I'd go with my brother to Bob's house to hang out, there would be maybe 3-5 of his friends there collectively. It wasn't just him and Bob. His friends girlfriends would sometimes come along too, so I wasn't always the only girl in the room.
Bob and all of my brother's other friends were normal and never really gave a fuck about me. In fact most of his friends just kind of disregarded me and I would sit there and watch the TV quietly and smoke weed. (I started dabbling with weed at around 14, my brother smokes it too, so do his friends. It's always just helped me cope).
But this friend, Bob, had an older brother. We'll call him Todd. Keep in mind - when I was 15, my brother and his friends were all around 21-22 years old. Bob's brother, Todd, was 24 at the time.
Well, I happened to be there one day when Todd came down to chill with everyone for the first time. He didn't always come down, because he was a loner. He saw me and it seemed like he immediately took notice of me. He knew I was young, and knew I was the sibling of one of his brother's friends.
He started paying special attention to me. I remember him asking me what my favorite music was/what kind of music I listened to. I replied that I'd been listening to a lot of Soundgarden lately. He then played a Soundgarden music video on the computer. He would smile at me and look at me a lot.
After that, I'd keep coming to hang out, and I'd see him more and more. Eventually, I asked him for his snapchat. Yes, I was the one who did that, oddly enough. I was lonely, vulnerable, and in need of attention. This older man was giving me that attention, so I latched onto it and went out of my way to get his snapchat. He didn't protest. He added me back and started chatting with me from there.
I began sending him nudes. At 15 years old. He gladly accepted them and would tell me (actual quotes) that I'm "his little treasure", that I'm "juicy", and that he's "counting down the days until I turn 16". 16 is the age of consent here in Canada. I wish it fucking wasn't. My naive self reveled in the attention he gave me. I became very attached to this guy.
A couple months passed and eventually I started sneaking out late at night to go and hang out with Todd by myself. He worked the evening shift at a factory, and ended work at 11pm. I would sneak out at around 2-3am almost every night, walk to his house which was 5 minutes away, and hang out with him until 4 or 5 in the morning. Sometimes even 6. This obviously started messing my sleep schedule up a lot.
He let me smoke his weed and always gave me some to have. He started buying me cigarettes too, since I started mixing tobacco with weed when I'd smoke bongs (I quit tobacco since then, it's been over a year).
He never made a creepy move on me when I'd come and hang out. We would always hang out in this "smoking room" in his basement. It had a lock and everything. He could have done something but he didn't. It wasn't until a few weeks of hanging out with him like that, that I asked if he wanted to kiss me at the door when I was about to go home. He said yes and had this childish look on his face, like a kid in a candy store who was super giddy. I gave him a peck on the lips and then left. Yes, he let a 15 year old walk at night alone that late.
Note that this guy was a virgin at 24. Never even kissed a girl, I don't think. Meanwhile, I had lost my virginity at 14 with a guy my age and had more experience since then. I know, I know. I wish I hadn't done it that young.
After that kiss, we decided we were dating. It became apparent to Bob, my brother's friend, that I was hanging out with his older brother Todd. Bob was weirded out and concerned by that, so he went to my brother to let him know. My brother questioned me about it, but I managed to convince him nothing was wrong and that it was ok. I don't know how. Apparently, Todd had also contacted my brother telling him that he liked me or something to that effect, and my brother just told Todd that it's "her choice whether she dates you or not".
So we started dating. Next up was to try and convince my parents that it was ok. At first, they lightly tried telling me that it wasn't a good idea. However, I never once remember them sternly trying to explain to me the intentions of this older dude or why he wasn't what he seemed to be. They just sort of... barely tried to tell me it was not a great idea, and then gave up. Nobody talked to Todd himself, nobody went to Todd's parents. Everyone was just trying to tell a mentally unstable 15 year old that this older guy "wasn't a good idea", as if I had the capacity to listen and understand that I was being groomed and taken advantage of. Which they didn't even explicitly say.
Part of why they gave up was because me, having BPD and a plethora of attachment issues and daddy issues, would have HUGE episodes if anyone tried coming between me and Todd in the slightest. To the point where I was suicidal and saying I'd kill myself if I couldn't see him.
If my parents tried telling me not to sleep over at his house or something, I would go into a rage, into a panic, into chaos. I'd scream and cry and self harm. They came to a "deal" that I was allowed to sleep over at his house only once a week, and I took it. They eventually just accepted the relationship and didn't protest anymore. I would bring him over, I'd go over to his house, and everything was... "normal". My dad even said "you know what, I actually kinda like this guy" to my mom.
Before we started dating, I made sure to express my hatred of porn to Todd, and I expressed, crystal clear, that I expect a man to be 100% loyal and keep his eyes to me. I do the same thing when in a relationship. I'm just very monogamous. He agreed and assured me that he stopped watching porn altogether for me, and that he was only looking at the photos I'd send him. He had so many nudes of me saved on his phone. I was young and naive, so naturally I bought his lies of loyalty.
Anyways - I met his parents and he met mine. I would go to family gatherings with him and meet his relatives. He met my grandma and he was there with me when my cat who I loved very much passed away.
It became so normalized. But over time it became more and more clear how dysfunctional the relationship was.
The relationship slowly morphed into more and more fights. My BPD went from being triggered around him rarely, to being triggered constantly. I had huge episodes around him where he would just ignore me, leave the room to let me suffer and panic and break down by myself, and just overall not respond properly at all. If he did try to comfort me, the effort was shallow and he gave up very quickly. Admittedly, I sometimes became so uncontrollable in my episodes that I hit him a few times during the relationship. I'm not proud of that but he would always just take it from me and the most he'd do is say, "don't hit me" in an annoyed voice.
He never learned anything. We dated for a year and a half before we broke up. Throughout that year and a half, his responses to my breakdowns remained a constant, each time, even after having serious conversations with him about my mental state and giving him advice and tips on how he should respond accordingly when I become that way. (yes I have looked into therapy. I've gone through 8+ therapists and will try again).
He never treated me like a girlfriend but rather as a friend with benefits.
The fights would never end. I would cry and beg him to change certain habits, like sleeping in way too late, smoking way too much weed and tobacco, not showing me much affection, not washing his hair. Just lazy habits that over time began to piss me off. He would ALWAYS cry with me at the end of fights promising to change and yet he wouldn't. Each time. And my weak ass couldn't leave. I was way too attached. But I was going insane.
I realized after so long that I didn't actually love him at all, and I was only with him out of fear that nobody else would want me or deal with me. He used to be an escape from my home life, he used to have me infatuated with him and obsessed with him. But he just became another problem to face. I didn't love him anymore, I don't think I ever truly did in my naive mind. He was constantly blaming me for my episodes and telling me to get help but he would be the cause of my episodes more than half the time. The entire relationship was so fucked up. I would legitimately go insane with the breakdowns I'd have, hitting my head against brick walls, pulling at my hair, screaming, crying. I experienced those episodes time and time again in part because of his actions towards me.
For example, he knew abandonment was a huge, giant, terrible fear of mine. Earlier on in the relationship, he left to a cottage trip without telling me and stayed a week while I was at home falling apart because he seemingly dropped off the face of earth and wouldn't respond to me. He refused to talk to me and only started picking up the phone at the end of his stay. That shit fucked me up. It doesn't sound that bad typed out but it was a punch to my gut.
Anyways. In June of this year, I found the proof that took the blinders off my eyes for good. I was on his phone, (in front of him, he let me go on it) and in the vault of my nudes, I found a sexual instagram text post. I immediately became suspicious and went to find instagram on his phone. It wasn't even downloaded. So I went to his browser, typed in "instagram" and it immediately came up as an often-used suggestion. Low and behold, he had made an entire fake account that he hid from me that he used SOLELY for looking at half naked IG models and pornographic stuff.
And he did all that when he had an entire vault of my own nudes. It was an encryption app called Keepsafe that requires a pass code to get in. That's where he kept all of the nudes I'd sent him, over 300 of them.
This guy was a porn addict from day 1 and hid it from me the entire time. He "used" to watch porn in VR. Pathetic.
When I found that shit, I IMMEDIATELY got up, told him to delete all my stuff off his phone, and left home. He tried yelling after me that he still loves me and I just screamed at him, bloody murder, that his ass did not love me when he was doing that shit behind my back.
After a few days I went to his house to make sure that app with my nudes on it was uninstalled off his phone. It was still on his phone, of course, so I made him uninstall it in front of me. He did. But I was still paranoid that if he reinstalled the app, the photos would come back. So I made him reinstall it to show me.
A log in screen came up. He hastily said "see, look, it's gone, it's just a log in screen now" and then quickly put his phone away and didn't let me see it again.
I am almost certain he logged back in and still has my underage nudes on his phone.
A few weeks or days after that, he hand wrote me a letter which he managed to give to my brother when he saw him hanging out with his brother Bob.
This is the letter: https://imgur.com/a/bJANVKQ
Very creepy and poorly written.
I also found out after we broke up that he made a fake account to stalk me on instagram with after I blocked him. On that account, he was following several 16 year old girls (!!!) and some dirty porn type of profiles. He was also following ALMOST EVERY ACCOUNT THAT I WAS FOLLOWING. Including my new boyfriend. When I found out about that account, which he made under a fake name, I messaged it a lengthy paragraph informing it that I knew it was him and that I have notified the police of his predatory behavior, which isn't a lie - I did, in fact, call the police and open a case on him shortly after we broke up and I realized he was a pedo, basically.
Here is the message I wrote: https://imgur.com/a/f4Y6mlR
After I sent that message, he became unhinged and started harassing me.
He made 8+ fake accounts under fake names, one after the other. He started messaging me paragraphs about how fucked up I was, comparing me to my dad, telling me I was just like him the entire time, sending me articles about "BPD abuse", writing me huge text walls filled with poison. He would go on my reddit account and stalk that too. He also viewed my LINKED IN which I haven't used in years. He would send me quotes about "narcissists ghosting their victims", implying that I was a narcissist who was merely just ghosting him.
Here are some of the messages he sent me off his fake accounts: https://imgur.com/a/fKe7OON
After this stalking and harrassment begun, I got into contact with police again and updated them on the situation. It was a lengthy process of phone calls and submitting screenshots of evidence only to be fucking useless in the end.
All this creepy motherfucker got was a phone call from an officer telling him to stop harassing me. They told him that "if he continues then his actions could cross into the realm of criminal". What was NOT criminal about everything he did to me? From dating me in the first place, to stalking and harassing me the second he knew my rejection was finalized?
The cop just closed my case after talking to him on the phone.
I want justice. I want that shit off his phone gone. I want to KNOW that he does not have my underage lewd photos anymore.
My parents and brother, after the whole ordeal, after I realized how screwed up everything was, had an "I told you so" attitude about it toward me. My brother refuses to delete Todd off his social media because "it's very awkward and I don't want to see him again at Bob's house knowing I unadded him". I will forever hate that he's even sparing this piece of shit's feelings in any way after what I went through with him.
My new partner is amazing, honest, and kind. He is only 3 years older. He has shown me what a normal, loving relationship should look like and I haven't been aggressive to him in any way like I was with my ex. I am significantly better off mentally with my current partner.
My question is: what the fuck do I do? The police didn't give a shit, even when I told them he was PREDATORY and following 16 year old girls. They didn't search his phone after I said that I'm scared he still has my underage nudes on it. So who the hell will deal with him? Everyone in my life turned a blind eye to my fucked up "relationship" with him. I can't just let this go, I cannot let this piece of perverted shit go scott free with just a fucking phone call from police. Fuck the police.
I need advice. Please. Someone. Anyone.
submitted by ThrowRA15151516 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.27 16:40 15throw15away15 Sex hid video

This is a long story. I've tried to sum it up as best as I can. But it's still long. I just want one person to read this at least. Just one. I'm leaving out some details because it would take up an entire book if I were to write everything out.
Important prefaces - my dad is a mentally and emotionally abusive narcissistic control freak who has messed me up big time over the years. I also have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and dropped out of school in 10th grade due to mental issues. I'm ALSO extremely, very against porn, not for religious reasons even, I'm an atheist. I just believe that a man should be 100% loyal to his woman, and not even look at other women in any way (and vice versa). Porn/sex work is also a very fucked up industry in general. Say what you want about that, that's not what I'm here to discuss anyways. It's not up for debate. But it's integral information.
That being said, I've had a lot of mental health issues starting from a very young age, stemming from my dad's mistreatment of me and from intense bullying at school, as well as other events that have occurred throughout my life - including being raped/sexually assaulted when I was 14.
I also started being very promiscuous way too early on. I got my first computer at 8 years old and found hardcore porn, which I got addicted to. From 8 to 14 I was addicted to porn and saw myself as an object. A young girl viewing porn is a much different perspective than that of a guys. I was way too sexual for a child. Part of the reason behind this was probably the issues I had with my father being distant and emotionally unavailable. (I'm 18 now and haven't watched porn in like 3 years or so. I hate it so much). Anyways.
When I was 15, I was very alone and very vulnerable. My brother, who is 6 years older than me, felt bad. I was friendless. So he started to bring me sometimes when he would go over to his friend's house to watch UFC fights, or whatever. We'll call this friend "Bob".
Whenever I'd go with my brother to Bob's house to hang out, there would be maybe 3-5 of his friends there collectively. It wasn't just him and Bob. His friends girlfriends would sometimes come along too, so I wasn't always the only girl in the room.
Bob and all of my brother's other friends were normal and never really gave a fuck about me. In fact most of his friends just kind of disregarded me and I would sit there and watch the TV quietly and smoke weed. (I started dabbling with weed at around 14, my brother smokes it too, so do his friends. It's always just helped me cope).
But this friend, Bob, had an older brother. We'll call him Todd. Keep in mind - when I was 15, my brother and his friends were all around 21-22 years old. Bob's brother, Todd, was 24 at the time.
Well, I happened to be there one day when Todd came down to chill with everyone for the first time. He didn't always come down, because he was a loner. He saw me and it seemed like he immediately took notice of me. He knew I was young, and knew I was the sibling of one of his brother's friends.
He started paying special attention to me. I remember him asking me what my favorite music was/what kind of music I listened to. I replied that I'd been listening to a lot of Soundgarden lately. He then played a Soundgarden music video on the computer. He would smile at me and look at me a lot.
After that, I'd keep coming to hang out, and I'd see him more and more. Eventually, I asked him for his snapchat. Yes, I was the one who did that, oddly enough. I was lonely, vulnerable, and in need of attention. This older man was giving me that attention, so I latched onto it and went out of my way to get his snapchat. He didn't protest. He added me back and started chatting with me from there.
I began sending him nudes. At 15 years old. He gladly accepted them and would tell me (actual quotes) that I'm "his little treasure", that I'm "juicy", and that he's "counting down the days until I turn 16". 16 is the age of consent here in Canada. I wish it fucking wasn't. My naive self reveled in the attention he gave me. I became very attached to this guy.
A couple months passed and eventually I started sneaking out late at night to go and hang out with Todd by myself. He worked the evening shift at a factory, and ended work at 11pm. I would sneak out at around 2-3am almost every night, walk to his house which was 5 minutes away, and hang out with him until 4 or 5 in the morning. Sometimes even 6. This obviously started messing my sleep schedule up a lot.
He let me smoke his weed and always gave me some to have. He started buying me cigarettes too, since I started mixing tobacco with weed when I'd smoke bongs (I quit tobacco since then, it's been over a year).
He never made a creepy move on me when I'd come and hang out. We would always hang out in this "smoking room" in his basement. It had a lock and everything. He could have done something but he didn't. It wasn't until a few weeks of hanging out with him like that, that I asked if he wanted to kiss me at the door when I was about to go home. He said yes and had this childish look on his face, like a kid in a candy store who was super giddy. I gave him a peck on the lips and then left. Yes, he let a 15 year old walk at night alone that late.
Note that this guy was a virgin at 24. Never even kissed a girl, I don't think. Meanwhile, I had lost my virginity at 14 with a guy my age and had more experience since then. I know, I know. I wish I hadn't done it that young.
After that kiss, we decided we were dating. It became apparent to Bob, my brother's friend, that I was hanging out with his older brother Todd. Bob was weirded out and concerned by that, so he went to my brother to let him know. My brother questioned me about it, but I managed to convince him nothing was wrong and that it was ok. I don't know how. Apparently, Todd had also contacted my brother telling him that he liked me or something to that effect, and my brother just told Todd that it's "her choice whether she dates you or not".
So we started dating. Next up was to try and convince my parents that it was ok. At first, they lightly tried telling me that it wasn't a good idea. However, I never once remember them sternly trying to explain to me the intentions of this older dude or why he wasn't what he seemed to be. They just sort of... barely tried to tell me it was not a great idea, and then gave up. Nobody talked to Todd himself, nobody went to Todd's parents. Everyone was just trying to tell a mentally unstable 15 year old that this older guy "wasn't a good idea", as if I had the capacity to listen and understand that I was being groomed and taken advantage of. Which they didn't even explicitly say.
Part of why they gave up was because me, having BPD and a plethora of attachment issues and daddy issues, would have HUGE episodes if anyone tried coming between me and Todd in the slightest. To the point where I was suicidal and saying I'd kill myself if I couldn't see him.
If my parents tried telling me not to sleep over at his house or something, I would go into a rage, into a panic, into chaos. I'd scream and cry and self harm. They came to a "deal" that I was allowed to sleep over at his house only once a week, and I took it. They eventually just accepted the relationship and didn't protest anymore. I would bring him over, I'd go over to his house, and everything was... "normal". My dad even said "you know what, I actually kinda like this guy" to my mom.
Before we started dating, I made sure to express my hatred of porn to Todd, and I expressed, crystal clear, that I expect a man to be 100% loyal and keep his eyes to me. I do the same thing when in a relationship. I'm just very monogamous. He agreed and assured me that he stopped watching porn altogether for me, and that he was only looking at the photos I'd send him. He had so many nudes of me saved on his phone. I was young and naive, so naturally I bought his lies of loyalty.
Anyways - I met his parents and he met mine. I would go to family gatherings with him and meet his relatives. He met my grandma and he was there with me when my cat who I loved very much passed away.
It became so normalized. But over time it became more and more clear how dysfunctional the relationship was.
The relationship slowly morphed into more and more fights. My BPD went from being triggered around him rarely, to being triggered constantly. I had huge episodes around him where he would just ignore me, leave the room to let me suffer and panic and break down by myself, and just overall not respond properly at all. If he did try to comfort me, the effort was shallow and he gave up very quickly. Admittedly, I sometimes became so uncontrollable in my episodes that I hit him a few times during the relationship. I'm not proud of that but he would always just take it from me and the most he'd do is say, "don't hit me" in an annoyed voice.
He never learned anything. We dated for a year and a half before we broke up. Throughout that year and a half, his responses to my breakdowns remained a constant, each time, even after having serious conversations with him about my mental state and giving him advice and tips on how he should respond accordingly when I become that way. (yes I have looked into therapy. I've gone through 8+ therapists and will try again).
He never treated me like a girlfriend but rather as a friend with benefits.
The fights would never end. I would cry and beg him to change certain habits, like sleeping in way too late, smoking way too much weed and tobacco, not showing me much affection, not washing his hair. Just lazy habits that over time began to piss me off. He would ALWAYS cry with me at the end of fights promising to change and yet he wouldn't. Each time. And my weak ass couldn't leave. I was way too attached. But I was going insane.
I realized after so long that I didn't actually love him at all, and I was only with him out of fear that nobody else would want me or deal with me. He used to be an escape from my home life, he used to have me infatuated with him and obsessed with him. But he just became another problem to face. I didn't love him anymore, I don't think I ever truly did in my naive mind. He was constantly blaming me for my episodes and telling me to get help but he would be the cause of my episodes more than half the time. The entire relationship was so fucked up. I would legitimately go insane with the breakdowns I'd have, hitting my head against brick walls, pulling at my hair, screaming, crying. I experienced those episodes time and time again in part because of his actions towards me.
For example, he knew abandonment was a huge, giant, terrible fear of mine. Earlier on in the relationship, he left to a cottage trip without telling me and stayed a week while I was at home falling apart because he seemingly dropped off the face of earth and wouldn't respond to me. He refused to talk to me and only started picking up the phone at the end of his stay. That shit fucked me up. It doesn't sound that bad typed out but it was a punch to my gut.
Anyways. In June of this year, I found the proof that took the blinders off my eyes for good. I was on his phone, (in front of him, he let me go on it) and in the vault of my nudes, I found a sexual instagram text post. I immediately became suspicious and went to find instagram on his phone. It wasn't even downloaded. So I went to his browser, typed in "instagram" and it immediately came up as an often-used suggestion. Low and behold, he had made an entire fake account that he hid from me that he used SOLELY for looking at half naked IG models and pornographic stuff.
And he did all that when he had an entire vault of my own nudes. It was an encryption app called Keepsafe that requires a pass code to get in. That's where he kept all of the nudes I'd sent him, over 300 of them.
This guy was a porn addict from day 1 and hid it from me the entire time. He "used" to watch porn in VR. Pathetic.
When I found that shit, I IMMEDIATELY got up, told him to delete all my stuff off his phone, and left home. He tried yelling after me that he still loves me and I just screamed at him, bloody murder, that his ass did not love me when he was doing that shit behind my back.
After a few days I went to his house to make sure that app with my nudes on it was uninstalled off his phone. It was still on his phone, of course, so I made him uninstall it in front of me. He did. But I was still paranoid that if he reinstalled the app, the photos would come back. So I made him reinstall it to show me.
A log in screen came up. He hastily said "see, look, it's gone, it's just a log in screen now" and then quickly put his phone away and didn't let me see it again.
I am almost certain he logged back in and still has my underage nudes on his phone.
A few weeks or days after that, he hand wrote me a letter which he managed to give to my brother when he saw him hanging out with his brother Bob.
This is the letter: https://imgur.com/a/bJANVKQ
Very creepy and poorly written.
I also found out after we broke up that he made a fake account to stalk me on instagram with after I blocked him. On that account, he was following several 16 year old girls (!!!) and some dirty porn type of profiles. He was also following ALMOST EVERY ACCOUNT THAT I WAS FOLLOWING. Including my new boyfriend. When I found out about that account, which he made under a fake name, I messaged it a lengthy paragraph informing it that I knew it was him and that I have notified the police of his predatory behavior, which isn't a lie - I did, in fact, call the police and open a case on him shortly after we broke up and I realized he was a pedo, basically.
Here is the message I wrote: https://imgur.com/a/f4Y6mlR
After I sent that message, he became unhinged and started harassing me.
He made 8+ fake accounts under fake names, one after the other. He started messaging me paragraphs about how fucked up I was, comparing me to my dad, telling me I was just like him the entire time, sending me articles about "BPD abuse", writing me huge text walls filled with poison. He would go on my reddit account and stalk that too. He also viewed my LINKED IN which I haven't used in years. He would send me quotes about "narcissists ghosting their victims", implying that I was a narcissist who was merely just ghosting him.
Here are some of the messages he sent me off his fake accounts: https://imgur.com/a/fKe7OON
After this stalking and harrassment begun, I got into contact with police again and updated them on the situation. It was a lengthy process of phone calls and submitting screenshots of evidence only to be fucking useless in the end.
All this creepy motherfucker got was a phone call from an officer telling him to stop harassing me. They told him that "if he continues then his actions could cross into the realm of criminal". What was NOT criminal about everything he did to me? From dating me in the first place, to stalking and harassing me the second he knew my rejection was finalized?
The cop just closed my case after talking to him on the phone.
I want justice. I want that shit off his phone gone. I want to KNOW that he does not have my underage lewd photos anymore.
My parents and brother, after the whole ordeal, after I realized how screwed up everything was, had an "I told you so" attitude about it toward me. My brother refuses to delete Todd off his social media because "it's very awkward and I don't want to see him again at Bob's house knowing I unadded him". I will forever hate that he's even sparing this piece of shit's feelings in any way after what I went through with him.
My new partner is amazing, honest, and kind. He is only 3 years older. He has shown me what a normal, loving relationship should look like and I haven't been aggressive to him in any way like I was with my ex. I am significantly better off mentally with my current partner.
My question is: what the fuck do I do? The police didn't give a shit, even when I told them he was PREDATORY and following 16 year old girls. They didn't search his phone after I said that I'm scared he still has my underage nudes on it. So who the hell will deal with him? Everyone in my life turned a blind eye to my fucked up "relationship" with him. I can't just let this go, I cannot let this piece of perverted shit go scott free with just a fucking phone call from police. Fuck the police.
I need advice. Please. Someone. Anyone.
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2020.10.27 13:41 seekingadvice24 Sex hid video

I began posting here in 2018, I don’t want to go into detail again about everything I have gone through with my husband and his addiction but if you want and have time you can look at my past posts and the first few sum it up.. my husband of almost 9 years hid and lied about his porn use/addiction for 7 years and during that time I knew something wasn’t right obviously, I knew we never had deep conversations, barely talked at all, and that he seemed so distant emotionally and mentally.. I wondered why there was no intimacy and no affection, and why he would sometimes turn me down like he didn’t know I was obviously trying to be intimate with him.. but in 2018 (after finding out about his addiction and how he hid the fact he had been paying for premium porn sites and watching it on a fake calculator app with a private browser and payed for it through PayPal so I would see it or notice it) I found out for months he had been posting and trading my naked body and sexual videos with other men online. This is something that made me instantly second guess all I’ve ever known and he was a complete stranger to me, I was scared of this person because I never thought he was capable of doing something so disgusting and disrespectful.. For a little background, I have battled depression and anxiety since I was 12/13 years old.. before all of this rocked my world I had hobbies, friends, I worked and made money even if it wasn’t near as much as he made but we had an agreement for me to be a stay at home mom, we have two little girls who are now 5 and 7.. his mom stayed home with him and his two brothers when he was growing up and was a “homemaker”, she cooked and cleaned and parented... and he made enough money to support us and made me feel he wanted me to be home.. my husband has fully acknowledged that he has an addiction and that he needs help and has gotten help several times in the last 2 years but the problem is that he makes all of these promises and gets serious about recovery work when he relapsed or screws up after slacking on recovery or putting it to the side, saying he knows he should have been doing all of these things to keep this from happening blah blah blah.. We see a sex addiction therapist every other Thursday (sometimes weekly), and every time he asks my husband if he has been doing well with prioritizing his daily reading/recovery work, he KNOWS what he should be doing and has every tool he needs to use but every time we go it’s the same thing... he hasn’t been doing shit. Last night when I asked him what was going on and to just be honest and tell me what is going through his mind and what is holding him back from recovery and making it a top priority and he proceeds to tell me that he feels like he has so much more responsibility that me, that he works so hard and pulls his weight and then some and that he doesn’t think I do the same, so he feels like one of the reasons he doesn’t do his recovery work is because he feels it isn’t fair that so much is expected of him and put on him and that if I did more every day to pull my own weight and kept up with everything and stayed busy that he would feel like it wasn’t so one sided...
I’m not going to lie to you, when all of this happened, the discovery, the Big Bang months later, the relapses, it destroyed me mentally, emotionally and physically.. I fight my own battle daily with depression and I was doing good, but after everything I lost myself, I was consumed with the pain and his addiction.. I put a lot of things off, I always felt tired and fatigued, I didn’t feel like cleaning all day and cooking home cooked meals every day... and I fully except I have slacked on those things and want to do better, but he thinks me blaming all he has done and the depression is just an excuse and I guess I am just confused because I realize I need to get it together and I am hard on myself for the things I’m not perfect on, but I do love him and our girls with all of my heart and I never mistreat them, I have stayed by his side through everything and have only wanted to save and repair our marriage and be a positive motivator for him and help him be the man he claims he wants to be now... please tell me what I should think or do when he says these things? Have you ever experienced similar? And is it gas lighting/blame shifting? Am I wrong? Is he wrong? Any advice is helpful.
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2020.10.26 19:52 Mr-DenimChicken Sex hid video

If you're looking for a VERY long, interesting tale of twists and turns, take a look below, at my past 6 years. This will be an extremely long post.
If you've got the endurance, buckle up.
I find it hard to even figure out how to start this one. My first post.

 It all started in 2014. You were 18(f), I was 22(m). The way we met, how the relationship began, how it has ended so many times and been partially put back together is enough to make anyones head spin. You were my person though. I'm already tearing up, jesus. I should have taken the signs seriously, but nope. We were together for 2 years at first. We both had our issues, but love kept us trying to find the fix for anything that got in our way. We only knew each other for a week before we decided to be together. I stood up for you. We fell in love fast. It didn't take long for you to want to move in and I let it happen one month in. I let you take me away on this ride and I never thought twice. Two years and living together. You were living with me before you even graduated. I found you a job out of high school, you said you loved it. It was 15 seconds away from our home. Little did I know, things were going to turn upside down. You were always one to find comfort and validation in others, no matter how much I gave you. No matter how much I told you I was here. You had your own issues. 2 years in, you weren't the same. You were sad a lot, we argued all the time, but made up. 
Eventually, you cut me out.
 You said you needed a change. That you were depressed. This life wasn't the one that you wanted anymore. It tore into me like 50 knives straight to the heart. I begged. I pleaded for you. I apologized for what I had done, the mistakes I had made. Did everything I could to use logic and reasoning to bring you back, and to show you I'd fix whatever it could be. You told me you were young, you wanted to be "free." Be single, be responsible for yourself, and to get your own place. What choice did I have? I let you go.. kind of. You rushed to get an apartment 45 mins away. You accomplished it. You became independent. You went out with friends with your new found freedom.. partied, had fun.. but still found reasons to keep in contact, and I loved it. I was going to stick around until maybe one day you figured out that we could make it. "I miss the dogs, can I come see them?" You asked. Of course you can. It'll give me a chance to see you, and try what I could in that amount of time to spark something up again. You hung out, I focused on you. We knew this wasn't about the dogs. It was to check up on me. Had I moved on? Was I still available if you wanted to return? You knew I was right there waiting. We had sex every chance I could make it happen. You even stuck around sometimes to make dinner before going back to your place. The first time we had sex while you were "visiting" the dogs, you cried afterwards. You said you didn't want to hurt me. I was confused. How can you hurt me when I don't feel alone anymore?? I always felt in the back of my mind that there were others you were with. You said no when I asked. You were even offended. "I AM NOT A WHORE! The person who gets dumped is the one that goes and has sex with other people quickly.." I laughed, and shot that down. I wasn't. I held onto hope with you. Another woman would never cross my mind. I just hoped that maybe you were still trying to focus on us. Naive. It was a Monday morning. I woke up. The first thing on my mind was you, and I felt good. At the same time I felt destroyed. The sex was amazing. Bittersweet. I get to enjoy your body, but I wanted more than that. How could I get us back?? Getting ready for work, you call me. I was happy to see your name on my phone. "Awesome, I get to hear "good morning" from you!" I pick up the phone... "I'm Pregnant.." you said. We both panicked. There was part of me that was happy, and seen this as a chance to fix things. You sounded mad, and reminded me that your 21st birthday was 4 months away, which meant you weren't going to be able to celebrate.. weird thing to say. I calmed you down and told you we would get through it. We decide to talk things out. You seemed okay with returning. That you missed me the entire time. That you knew you made a mistake. And that you just wanted to have a nice healthy family. That was your goal. I had to ask the question though. Was the baby mine? Did you do anything with anyone else? You got mad at the question and said I was stupid for asking it. I took that answer with open arms, but still had trouble trusting you. I hid it well at that point though. So we get back together. You move back into the house, we prepare for our lives to change completely. You have your moments of rage and emotional breakdowns, as any pregnant woman does. I done my best to be there for you. Even though some days I was lacking. My attention didn't stay on you all the time. I was always reminded of that. I didn't give you enough attention, I didn't do this, I didn't do that. "All these couples are so happy on social media, I wish we had what they had.." all the things you said really hurt me. I guess our age gap put me in a position to where I understood things about social media that you didn't yet. You were envious of people and you believed everything you seen on there. You believed in a relationship that was easy %100 of the time. I knew that didn't exist. 9 months later, we had our son. Best thing to ever happen to me. I still worried time to time. Did she get pregnant by someone else, and just chose me to be the dad because she knew i was more stable? Did she not want her family to look down on her if they found out she has a kid with another man immediately after our break up? I don't know, but I took him in either way, and just prayed he was mine. At that point, blood bond or not, you were my son. Days went on, some were extremely good. Some were extremely bad. Our communication lacked horribly at times. You still seemed to fantasize about having the perfect relationship. A goal that could not be reached. You wanted to be married by now. I wanted it to, but it was something I was afraid of. I didn't want to be hurt again. Disregarding all my fears, though, I went and bought a ring for you and proposed. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted us to make it. You said yes, and the entire family was so happy. You were happy, and I was happy. Now, we just needed to start the plans, and it was only a matter of time before we were bound by God. Often times, I would stay up later than you. I would be in bed and you would be sleeping away peacefully. Some nights your phone would vibrate deep into the night. I would wonder who is texting you at midnight. Maybe its just a Facebook notification. I would still have those insecure thoughts though. One night it vibrated, it woke you up this time and I was already awake, as you reached over to your night stand to see what the vibration was. I waited for you to put the phone down and roll over, and decided to ask, "who was that?" "Just one of my coworkers." You said. Thats all I needed to hear. I let it go, and went to bed like it never happened. As the days went on and on, you started acting the same way you did when you left me the first time. Depressed. Distant. Uncommunicative. It made me insecure, and angry at times. The phone was always in your hand though. Tapping your fingers at lightning speed. Constantly. If only you put that effort into our conversations.. The lack of communication that we both had just tore us right back down. You were ready to leave again. After another year and a half. You told me all kinds of things. I didn't show you enough attention, you were depressed. You wanted to live life again and feel like yourself. You weren't happy and you were tired of feeling like you did everything yourself. I was surprised. This was sudden, and the only thing I wanted was to have you back, and a chance to be better. Our lack of communication prevented me from seeing anything other than you being upset and quiet all the time. Why didn't I try harder? Why am I such a failure? Now I get to be a dad for only 3 days a week. It felt like death was at my doorstep. I would have welcomed it right in if I could have. The proposal went right out the window. The marriage was off. Just like that, you were no longer my fiance. This break up felt different, but it was the same. Looking back now, I can see what happened. This break up was the one that made me figure out what kind of a person you were. You had issues way deeper than I had ever imagined. Your best friend was the one to help me learn things I never wanted to learn. Your childhood friend, one that you grew up with, messaged me one day. "Where is she? Have you talked to her?" I didn't know where you were. I told her we split up and I'm sure she already knew that. I told her it felt like you were going through some quarter life crisis or something. Maybe post-partum depression. It was weird, you didn't even seem like the same person when I was able to talk to you. The friend said "I know where she is." The friend did not seem happy. I was afraid of what her next message would be. She wanted to video chat me and talk to me about something. I was so afraid. We were not close or never really talked, so it was surprising to hear she wanted to video chat. I was anxious about the situation so I quickly started the call. The information was given right there. 
"She is seeing my step brother."
 My heart, my mind. It shattered right there on the video call. I didn't believe it at first. Her friend was really mad about it, for whatever reason. We still had sex a few times since you left, just like the first time. I asked the friend if she was sure. ARE YOU POSITIVE??? This must be a mistake. She wouldn't have sex with me if she's seeing someone else.. right? After 3 and a half years and a son together, she wouldn't be with someone else within a couple of weeks of her leaving me..... RIGHT?? 
WRONG
 In my broken voice, I thanked your friend for the information and told her I needed to go. I immediately hang up, and call you. I must figure out what is happening. You pick up, surprisingly. The first thing I ask is "where are you?" She had no obligation to tell me, but she did. "I'm out having some food with my co-workers." I felt the lie come through the phone and slap me right in the face. This guy was not her co-worker. My next question was "Is (Step-Brother's name) there?" 
She responded with one word. "Why?"
 I had the answer that confirmed my worst fear. Its one of those questions that doesn't even need a yes or no. If the question is answered with a question, you have your answer. I was furious before I hung up, but was only able to utter the sentence "cool, glad to see how much I mean to you." I spent the rest of the night broken down. Defeated. You had my son around this man. You lied to me. We weren't together, technically. I felt cheated on. You still chose to have sex with me and then go do shit with this other man. Disregarding any respect that I thought we had between each other. This break up was no different for me. I stayed loyal to you, even after you left. I stuck by you. Even if it was one sided. I kept my conscious clean and only chased after what I loved. It was you. Only you. After finding out the facts, I decided to leave you alone. I had to. I broke down so many times. Someone else got the best of you. The only question I could ask myself was "how long had he been in the picture?" Those texts at midnight before we broke up, they were him. I was cheated on. Maybe only emotionally, but its all the same to me. For some odd reason, I still fantasized about you coming back. I always told myself, if you ever slept with someone else, I wouldn't let you return. I would walk away. After this had become a reality though, I still found myself wanting to give you another chance. I left you alone though. I had to really try to move on this time. I never let her go. I still never wanted to find someone else. Even after the news was broken to me. I had never been one to just be able to go have sex with someone. I needed the connection. I needed to feel safe. So I spent a few months alone, only ever getting far enough to message girls here and there. Meeting up to have a drink with one, then going home alone. I wasn't going to push something with a new woman, just for revenge. This was not a situation that I wanted to bring another person into. Then one day, you messaged me. You were feeling hopeless again. You were depressed. You told me you figured out that it was your issues, and that it wasn't me. My guess is that your little relationship didn't work out the way you hoped. So you decided to rush back to your second option. Me. What did I do? I let you crawl yourself back into my arms. You came back and we had a long conversation about honesty. Trust. I asked you about all of the things I wanted to know (or not know.) Everything her best friend told me was true. You were honest about it as well. Tears streaming down your face as you admit to having sex with him and myself. You telling me over and over it was a mistake. I found it hard to let you back in, but at the same time, my heart took over my brain once again. I let you come back for a second time.. So there we were. Trust issues and all. You moved back in after being gone for 4 or 5 months. At first, it was great. We had more issues on our plate, but your guilt kept you in check. It kept you willing to work on things. My conscious was clean, but yours was non-existent. You were just happy to be able to get away with what you did to me. It ate at you, and some days, truth be known, I even liked to see you hurt for what you did to me. It crossed my mind each day. Its something that virtually never left the back of my mind. When will this go away? Is she going to do it again? Who is she talking to now? Was that notification from another man? How will I ever get through this? My issues were there clear as day, but I set them back just enough to keep you around. I wanted you still. For some reason, I kept finding excuses to justify what you did. I loved you. You were a part of me. Have you ever heard that history repeats itself? I have, too. This time is different though. We love each other. She learned her lesson the last time. We will make this work, because she wants to have a life with me. She wants to marry me. She wouldn't do all of it again and risk losing me for good. She took me seriously when I said this was the last time I would take her back. 
She took me seriously, right? Nope.
The cycle continued. 4 and a half years, 2 break-ups, and 1 son later, you pull it again.
The same words I heard the last two times you left. I knew what was coming next. I expected it. This time, I was waiting to hear the bad news from someone. You want to know one of the things that bothered me most about you leaving me? Its how you had went about it. Just a text. Thats all I got from you. A few words in person, maybe a tear or two. Other than that, it was over text messages where I found out you no longer wanted to be in my life. It always bothered me that you never had the courage to say it to my face. It was always useless to explain that to you though. The only time I thought about confronting you about it is when you were already out the door. This break up was different, and I was determined to let you know that I wasn't going to wait around for you. I was angry. I felt broken once again, and it was my fault. I let you do this to me for the third time. The same excuses. The same lack of communication. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times... well.. I felt like I deserved it at that point. I didn't beg, I didn't plea. I let you go. I let you pack your shit up and leave me again. I was expecting you to have someone new in a few weeks. This is, of course, if you weren't already talking to someone before you left again. My family was close to you. You even went to my sister and told her I was acting different after you left. You noticed I wasn't chasing you or freaking out after you left this time. I went on my way for the first couple months. Having to keep contact with you for our son was hard, but thats what happens when you have kids. I still stalked your social media every day it seemed, but I didn't bring anything up to you. I was just waiting for the moment I found out you were back at it again. Seeing someone new. I figured it was only a matter of time. I spent my time hanging out with friends and family. STILL not sleeping with anyone. Still not dating. Probably because the few times we seen each other, I was stupid enough to have sex with you again... Surprisingly, deep in the crevices of my mind, I was hoping you made this "mistake" again, and that you would return. My hopes were becoming weird. After all of this. After everything you've put me through, I STILL chose to believe the good in you. The sex probably didn't help much. I still believed that you leaving honestly for yourself, and that you were going to put work into yourself that you always talked about when you needed an excuse to leave. 
Guess what? I was wrong again. Surprised yet? Didn't think so.
 This night, I was with my friend. I gave him a ride to Walmart. He had to get some things, and I wanted to see him. I gladly picked him up and let him go into the store to get what he needed before we rode back to his house to chill for a while. It was the weekend, and I was ready to just get some quality time with a friend that I felt truly enjoyed my company. 
As I was sitting in the parking lot waiting, I get a Facebook message from a random guy I wasn't friends with.
 I looked at it and its was a simple message. "Hey man." I responded, asking if we knew each other. I knew we didn't. He proceeded to tell me that he knew you, and that I should never look back. He told me I should move on and that my son should be my only priority. I was confused. How does this guy know me or my son? I asked him what he meant. I finally got the message I was expecting to get right then and there. He told me that he had been seeing you over the past couple months. The math added up in my head. You were seeing THIS guy now, and you had been talking to him right on the line of our breakup. Another monkey branch, I assume. I asked the questions I didn't want to ask, but needed the answers to. My heart was pounding waiting to get the answer I figured was coming, but still didn't want to believe. "Was there sex involved?" He responded with a yes. Why was he getting in touch with me to tell me this? I was so angry and confused at this point. It seems like you were screwing with more people's heads than just my own. He then told me that he came to me to tell me these things because you hurt him as well. He told me you hooked up with his best friend and he found out. I was furious once again. At the same time, I felt bad for this guy. Why the fuck am I sad that this man that you had sex with is hurt? Because I know his pain. Even though my pain felt 10 times deeper, I could relate to being screwed over. 
This woman is something else, I thought.
 I decided to screenshot the conversation and send it to you. Just to let you know that I knew what you were up to. You had no defense. This time, I did make it known that I was mad, but I wasn't frantic. I kept it cool. I let it be, and let it simmer in your mind that I figured you out. Once again. This time I found you out by, not your best friend, but by the MAN HIMSELF. 
I can't make this shit up.
 This time, I was out for blood. This time was different. I was done waiting. I was done hoping. It was truly time to move on and start over. I went about my night with my friend. I told him what I was going though, and that was that. I went home that night depressed, lower than low. Disappointed in not only you, but myself. I let you come in and out of my life as you pleased. Testing out different men on the way, only for you to return when you learned the grass wasn't greener on the other side. 
We stopped talking for a while, only communicating to exchange our son. No more sex, no nothing. I wasn't letting this happen again.
 On my road to recovery a few weeks later, I recieve a message from one of your friends you hadn't talk to in a while. This was your friend you went and partied with when you left me the FIRST time. You were best friends at one point, but you guys drifted away from each other after we had our son. 
She messaged me and asked what had happened.
 If only I could have told her what had happened. Where would I even start? I explained a little bit, but typing this stuff out was just exhausting. I was surprised that even your friend messaged me. Why didn't she message you? Why did she decide to be there for me instead? I don't know, I will never know, but she was. She invited me over to hang out, to talk. To vent if I needed it. Up to this point, noone really seemed interested in hearing what had happened. Or even cared. You know what I did? I went over to her house. We hung out for a few hours. Drank a little bit, and I poured out the information. She was there for me. We sat around, listened to music we enjoyed. And had a good time. No sex. I left that night happy. Surprised that someone listened, and seemed to want to be there. 
For the first time in almost 5 years, another woman seemed truly there for me. Who was that woman? Your old friend.
Ironic, huh?
 I finally kind of felt wanted. Whether it was meant that way or not. I felt like someone wanted to listen, and be there. We continued to hang out and just enjoy each other's company. We decided to buy tickets together for a concert. I was doing all of this, very aware that she was your past friend. I didn't necessarily do it for revenge. I just didn't care who she was to you at the time. You dragged me around so many times. It was your turn to feel like you had truly lost ME for the first time. So I continued to spend time with her. During this time she had told me some interesting, heartbreaking information as well. She knew what you were doing doing our first break up. This was your party buddy at that time, after all. She told me you were seeing someone else, you had sex with another guy at the time that you had gotten pregnant. So then I wrestled with the fact that maybe, my son really wasn't mine. I was beyond crushed. The day had come. The night of the show. I met up with her, dressed nice. I was so excited to spend time just another woman. For once, I didn't feel like I was being used. We met up, and left with our little group to the show. On the way, she decided to take a few pics of us all. It was me, her, and her friend in the car. She posted them to snapchat. We get to the show and start having a great time. Dancing, sipping, enjoying the music around us. It was weird, but amazing at the same time. It wasn't long until someone told you and showed you the snapchat pictures she posted. Crazy how information gets around so fast, right? Immediately, my phone started to blow up. I couldn't hear it, but I felt it. I knew it was you. I knew you seen the pictures. Part of me was anxious. Part of me felt bad. Then I remembered everything you had done to me. The bad feeling quickly faded, and I decided to read your texts. All 20 of them. You were not happy, of course. You explained how nasty I was. How I was going to get an STD. How I was fucked up for what I was doing. All of your messages explained those 3 points over and over, just in different words. I laughed it off. It was too late for you to make me feel bad then. How dare you even think you had any room to speak. I responded very shortly. Simply agreeing, being dismissive. I had no desire to have the conversation anymore. I put my phone back in my pocket. The rest of the night was awesome. After the show we went back to her house, where we met up. We were drunk, but had a DD. She told me I could just stay the night if I wanted. Why not? I'm single. I had a great time, and I have the opportunity to keep the night going?? I didn't even hesitate. This was the first night we slept together. I couldn't help but to feel weird in a way. It was a different girl. For the first time in close to 5 years, I slept with someone else. I have to say, it was good, but I will never know how you were able to do this with other guys while you were still sleeping with me all those other times. I'm a person who couldn't fathom having more than one partner. 
We are clearly vastly different, and I had accepted that.
 As much as this girl was there for me, no matter how much fun we had together, I couldn't just look past you. I couldn't just get over you like that. Me and her still talked, we were still hanging out here and there, but we didn't initiate any kind of sex again. She knew what I was going through. Neither one of us wanted her to be a rebound. I expressed that I wanted to take things slow after the night of the show. She wanted the same. So thats what it was. Days after, you continued to put me down. Told me how bad of a person I was. I admit, I felt slightly bad, just because of who it was. She was there for me. She WANTED to be there for me. I just didn't care how you felt about it all. Just like you had no regard about how I felt when you talked and fucked with other men while STILL coming over and having sex with me so many times. Most of me felt you deserved it, even if I felt bad for it. We kept in contact. We had to, since we had our son. God I love him. It was rough though. We both hurt each other now. It was my turn to hurt you, and I took that chance without hesitation. You didn't want any of your own medicine, but I jammed it down your throat anyway. Weeks past, still seeing each other for our son. Slowly but surely, I still became sad. Alone. I still missed you. Me and your friend slowed contact. We both knew I didn't need to be jumping into something like that so quickly. I'm just glad she understood. I couldn't believe it.... I STILL WANTED TO BE WITH YOU. We became closer and closer. You knew what it felt like to lose me now. You were angry at me, of course. At this point, surprisingly, you didn't think we had sex that night. Atleast thats what you told me the day you asked me about what happened at the show. The day came, after a few months, you wanted to try AGAIN. I won't lie, I wanted to also. I was at a point where I was okay with it. A part of me felt like I needed to have sex with someone else to "even the playing field." Thats exactly what I had done. I thought, now that you learned how it felt, maybe you'll think twice about these half baked plans of yours to break up AGAIN. Maybe you finally learned that I could let go, too. That the grass, once again, was not greener on the other side. We were back together again. Slowly trying to build communication. Trying to understand each other. You had asked me the question. "Did you have sex with her? I have to know. I keep having dreams about you two, and I can't let it go" I figured this was a weird question. She asked me once, and I did not beat around the bush. I said yes, we did. I was never one to lie. Every time I found out about her other men, it was through a 3rd party. I wasn't going to lie. After all, we were building trust right? She was crushed of course. She told me if she knew that, she wouldn't have tried again. I kind of figured she knew what happened, but whether she did or not, it didn't matter. I spilled the beans immediately. We worked through it, kind of. You would use this as ammo any time we had an argument, or you felt insecure. It was unbelievable. I reminded you several times of what YOU did to ME. I told you I knew what you did during the first break up,, when you got pregnant. It had been something i had wrestled with since the day I was told. I had to find a way to answer the question myself. Is he really my son? I had to figure it out somehow. Yet you never had anything to say to that. We just tried to work past the situation the best we could. 
We had hurt each other. I understood this was going to be a rough road to recovery, and reminded you of that many times. I always reminded you that I was sticking by your side, though. Our mistakes are our mistakes, our past.
 Eventually, I decided to get a mail in DNA test. I done it secretly. It had came in and I got it done. Sent the samples in and waited impatiently for the results. I needed this. I needed the answer to the question that had tore me down for so long. To move forward, I needed to know. The results came in. My heart was beating so fast. After reading horror stories, and knowing you were having sex with someone else as well when you got pregnant. I was preparing myself for the worst outcome, and how I would bring it up to you. 
I opened the letter quickly, skimmed down to the bottom..
"Samples of said father is %99.99 match. Tested subject is the biological father.
It was the calmest, the happiest moment after that. I was so elated. I cried. I could put this behind me now. The biggest fear I had was squashed.
 As time went on, you wanted to get married, and eventually I fell for it. I proposed again, knowing the answer would be yes. I hoped for this time to the the time. We actually started planning things out. Getting a spot set. A guest list. A dress. Everything. This was at the end of 2019. 
Little did we know, COVID was on its merry way to make 2020 one of the hardest years we had ever witnessed.
 2020 arrived. We were still making it through, finishing planning. Then, right then and there. The lock down started. All of our plans had been turned on their head. A marriage during covid? How do you do that? We were determined to make it happen though. We spend day and night together. Work slowed down for me, I had to start a side job. I was able to continue to support us. Luckily, you were able to work from home. We spent so many days together at home. Stuck with nothing to do. Somehow, I felt like I was blamed for not taking you out any more. What the fuck were we going to do? Movie Theater? Nope. Restaurant? Nope. We spent months on top of each other, but we pushed through. Eventually after everything we had been through, the day had come. Close to 5 and a half years of this up and down, on and off relationship. It was time to become husband and wife. We opted to just have a private wedding. Me, you, and our son. I got dressed up in a simple, nice looking outfit. You waited to get dressed at the building we were doing the ceremony at. I was so nervous. I was happy. It was finally happening. You were vowing your life to me and my life to you. You walked in the room in the most beautiful outfit I'd ever seen. I cried as soon as I seen you. You walked up to me and hugged me, surprised I cried. I was surprised, too. It just hit me, and I was not expecting it. After checking each other out for a few moments, the ceremony began. We said our vows as our son stood there watching. It was amazing. 
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
 We kissed, and took many pictures. You were so happy with how they turned out. You were excited to have my last name. Our son's last name. You rushed to facebook, changed your name and the relationship status, and I did the same. It was a such a great feeling. There we were. Finally married. We tied the knot. During covid. We pushed through and got it done. Days went on and on, still on lock down, but we were making it, none the less. A few months passed, and things started to... change. You expressed how you were depressed. Again. The house wasn't being cleaned. I was the only one doing dishes. Most days would consist of you sitting on the couch, either working, or sitting on your phone. I must admit, I should have paid more attention. Looking back, I wish I would have reached out harder. Some days I would be gone to work, I called you and asked if things were okay. I specifically called you to tell you that you were enough. That I loved you so much. That we could make it through anything. I made the call with the intent to give you some extra validation. I was in a great mood. I felt like it was just what you needed. You were happy that I called you just to tell you those things. After a while. I decided to take a "strike" on house work. I felt as if I was the only one doing anything. I would get upset everytime I cleaned the house. Because you would sit on the phone. Not considering to pitch in at all. Yet you wondered why I was always grumpy when I was at the sink. I decided to see how bad the house could really get before you decided to get up and do something yourself. Every. Single. Dish. Was dirty. It was to the point to where you had to wash a dish if you wanted to use one. The counter was covered in pots, pans, plates, sippys, glasses. Everything. I just decided to start washing them again. Something had to change. All while you sat there. What confused me the most is that you had a little side hustle. Art projects that you would do all the time. You would make a mess everywhere, never cleaning it up. How could you be too depressed to clean, but happy enough to do the things you enjoyed? I know depression. Thats not how it works. Then the day came out of nowhere. You planned to go see your family. I decided to stay home. You loaded up our son, and you kissed me goodbye as usual. We had planned on doing something with your family that weekend. You were going there to spend the night, and I was going to meet you guys the next day to have some fun. Plans had ended up being canceled, because of the rain. I texted you to see how you guys were doing. Something seemed off. You were being short with me. My intunition between us was on point. I knew you, after 6 years. After all. You told me you were fine, and I had no choice but to accept that. I was irritated that I felt like you just didn't want to tell me, but I knew there was something there. However, I went on about my day. A few hours later, I get a text from you. You told me you were going to come home, pack somethings up, and stay with your parents for a while. At this point, I was scared. Confused. Like so many times before, I thought "here we go again." I knew this wasn't going to be pretty. I swallowed my tongue, and just told you that that sucks. If thats what you wanted to do though, you could do that. I told you, you could do whatever you need to feel better. Then you hit me with it. "I just need a break. I feel like do everything myself." My mind was so confused. How could you even say that?? I asked you what kind of break were you wanting. You told me "just a break from my usual environment." I guess the many months of being stuck in the house had put a toll on us. Seeing each others faces. Thats the only thing I could put together. I reluctantly accepted what you wanted to do. Expressing that we had never fixed anything by you running away. At this point, I was scared, angry, confused. We were married. Hopefully she enjoys some time with her family and returns. Maybe we can talk and communicate like we needed to. Once she was ready. Nope. She came back home the day after. Decided to stay at home, but we were distant. I hated it, but I didn't want to smother you. I gave you space. You even decided to sleep on the cough a few nights. It felt as if we weren't even together. I figured we were married though, you would come around once you were ready, and I'd be here to figure things out. A few days passed of complete silence, living with each other. No talking, no communication. I was getting impatient. What was going on? Is she leaving me all over again? I decided to go sit in the living room with you. I wanted to feel out the situation. See if you were open to talk it. The first thing I noticed once I got close, was that you didn't have your wedding ring on anymore. 
I was shocked. Mine had stayed on my finger. How long was it off for?
 I immediately asked about it, you didn't even say anything. You just made me feel like a burden for asking. The panic set in. I was furious. I expressed how unbelievable this was. I knew what she was doing. It was time for her to run away again. After that I got up and decided to get on my phone. I knew one of the things you do when you wanted to leave me. You'd block me on social media. I went to your profile in a panic. Your name was changed back to your maiden name. Your profile picture was different. Your married status had disappeared. You were leaving again. My heart sank for the 4th time. I was so mad. You convinced me this was it. You convinced me marriage was what you wanted. Yet, 4 months into being married, you wanted to hop out like it never happened. There was no conversation, other than you wanting a "break" from your usual environment. Once again. I found out you wanted to split through your social media. Through your actions. No talks, no conversation about how to turn things around. This was it. It all seemed unbelievable. A week after that, you told me you were moving to my sisters house. Still no conversation. No talk about what went wrong. You just wanted out. What could I do about that? Nothing. You blocked me on all social media, and we went back to communicating only about our son. Its like we never even married. Its been about 5 weeks since you've been gone, staying at my sisters house. You've been out to the bars with your friends. You went on vacation. You are indifferent to me. I am destroyed. I stalk what I can of your social media. Waiting for the concrete message that you have, once again, moved on to someone else. Less than 1 week after you left, I had already seen a guy in your pictures. I could only imagine whats going on there. I haven't begged or pleaded this time either. As the days go on I miss you so much. At the same time, I try to push myself to move on. You dropped our relationship. Our marriage. Like it was nothing more than a fling. For the 4th time. 
Where do I go from here?
6 years, 4 breakups, 1 son, and a 4 month marriage later. We are here again. Separated. Here I am. Blocked. Rejected. Abandoned. You seem fine with it all. Will you return? Could I even accept you back for the 5th time? How long would i let this cycle continue?
 I now know that even marriage will not stop you from doing what you've done. Nothing will. I think it is just a part of you. I don't know. I spend my days lonely, fighting my mind. Trying to find ways to become better for myself, but my self-esteem is non existent. 
Reddit.
Whether this is a lesson to you, whether this gives you an idea of what you should do with your situation. Let it be known that you are not alone. I hope that I'm not the only one that struggles this hard to let go, still wanting to be with a woman who I know could leave in an instant. No matter how fragile the trust. Its hard to let go, and I know that.
If you read this entire thing, thank you. I needed to let my story out. I've stayed silent. I needed someone to hear my wild story.
Hopefully, this will serve as a reminder to everyone. Pay attention to how they leave, how they handle the break up, and learn to stand your ground and love yourself.
Goodbye, for now.
submitted by Mr-DenimChicken to BreakUps [link] [comments]


2020.10.26 00:52 momo-official Sex hid video

I quite enjoyed writing and receiving feedback on my Halsey post, so I thought I'd do another post about a different fandom. This time, we're delving into the extremely chaotic Adam Driver standom.
PLEASE NOTE: SEVERAL COMMENTS, USERNAMES, ETC. ARE LINKED AND SCREENSHOTTED HERE FOR EVIDENCE'S SAKE. DO NOT HARASS ANYONE INVOLVED. DO NOT DOXX ANYONE OR ATTEMPT TO CHASE THEM DOWN.
TL;DR: The Adam Driver fandom is split down the middle. Things came to a head when a fan from one side of the fandom gave Adam a wooden carving of his dog and he called them out in a New Yorker article months later. It turned out the person who made the wood carving is associated with fans who are convinced he is divorced from (or in the process of divorcing) his wife after Adam had an affair with Daisy Ridley. Wank ensued.
I'm going to start with the event and work backwards to the context. Let's start with the basics.
Basic Terminology: What is a Stan? Eminem's song "Stan" describes a so-called "stalker fan," someone who is obsessed with an artist to the point of shaping their entire life around them. The term gained some prominence on Livejournal gossip blog "Oh No They Didn't" to describe superfans of artists, actors, and celebrities. Currently, a "stan" is anyone who posts exclusively or semi-exclusively about a famous person, group, or band, and a "standom" is a fandom made up of stans.
I've previously posted about Halsey stans; this post, however, is about Adam Driver stans.
Who is Adam Driver? You most likely know 36-year-old Adam Driver from his work in the Star Wars franchise as the fearsome Kylo Ren, son of Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa. (WARNING: Article may contain spoilers.) What you may not know about Adam is his strange backstory, his marriage to his wife Joanne Tucker, and his rich filmography outside of Star Wars.
Born in California and raised in Indiana in a conservative family, Adam had dreams of leaving his small town of Mishawaka to become an actor. However, after 9/11, Adam, like many Americans, found himself swept up in the wave of patriotism that seized the USA, and he applied to become a Marine. He served for three years at Camp Pendelton, California as a mortarman and speaks fondly about his time in the Corps, as well as the friends he made. He was later honorably discharged for breaking his collarbone in a mountain biking accident and watched with guilt as his friends went on to fight in the ongoing War on Terror in the Middle East.
However, Adam was already reconsidering his career path during his service. A training exercise involving white phosphorous took a turn for the deadly, and he recalls:

I was like, ‘I’m going to smoke cigarettes and be an actor when I get out.’ Those were my two thoughts. I wanted to smoke cigarettes and be an actor.
After leaving the military, Adam, like many marines, had trouble adjusting to civilian life and puttered around the Midwest doing odd jobs. His second application to the acting school, Julliard, was accepted, and Adam dropped everything to move to New York City. During his education, he fell in love with acting and found its controlled release of emotions therapeutic. You can hear his TED talk about how acting helped him express himself and adjust to civilian life here.
He met his wife, Joanne, in his cohort. The two married in 2013 and went on to found Arts in the Armed Forces, or AITAF: a charity dedicated to bringing free, high-quality theater to military bases and to veterans's families.
Adam is famously shy and reclusive. He and his wife successfully hid the fact that they had a son for two years. While he isn't rude to fans, coworkers, or industry professionals, Adam is defensive of his personal space and reacts poorly to being candidly photographed in public.
He does not have social media, giving fans very little opportunity to speak or interact with him. If you want to say hi to him at all, you either have to wait for a charity auction, camp out for a red carpet, or attend an AITAF event and hope that he's there in-person. So when Adam announced a Broadway run in 2019, fans were thrilled at the opportunity to finally meet their idol.
March-July 2019: "Burn This" Burn This is a somewhat obscure play by playwright Lanford Wilson. A Broadway revival was performed in 2019 with Keri Russel as the main character, Anna, and Adam as her love interest, Pale. The two begin a hasty love affair when Robbie, Pale's brother and Anna's roommate, dies suddenly in a boating accident and Pale comes by to collect Robbie's belongings. Robbie was gay, and the play takes place during the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s.
The play isn't done often, partially because Pale is a challenging role: a fast-talking cokehead from New Jersey with violent mood swings. Pale is openly homophobic, yet spends the play trying to figure out how to mourn his brother. It takes skill to capture the subtlety in Wilson's writing and not downgrade Pale to a violent brute with no emotion. Adam originally played Pale during his tenure at Julliard and took on the role again for the Broadway revival. The play did so well that it was nominated for a Tony for Best Revival, and Adam was nominated for Best Actor in a Stage Play.
The "Burn This" Stage Door It's common among theater fans to wait at the stage door to greet the actors, get their programs signed, and even (if they're lucky) chat with their idols for a bit. Occasionally, the crowd is sparse, but stage doors for famous actors are usually heavily crowded, even mobbed. Security is often needed for the safety of the crowd and the performers. Tom Hiddleston, for example, had a huge crowd 5-6 people deep at its thinnest when I met him after Betrayal in 2019.
Adam was no exception: the Burn This stage door usually had a moderate crowd after every show, and so the Hudson Theater was outfitted with several security guards and barricades, including a personal bodyguard for Adam himself. Early videos of the stage door show a small crowd, but as the play wore on, security measures became more intense.
In spite of the crowd, the Burn This stage door was usually pleasant and calm. Adam exited the theater promptly after the show ended each night, and he was incredibly sweet and patient with fans outside of the stage door. Throughout almost all of spring, Adam patiently stopped to sign every single person's Playbill, shake hands, and say hi. On one memorable occasion, he carried his dog, Moose, from the stage door to his car before coming back to sign programs. Plenty of videos exist on Twitter, Tumblr, Youtube, and Reddit of peaceful interactions.
From my own experience at the door, I can personally say he will slow down for fans and happily greet them if they are calm and polite.
If.
June 2019: Someone Jumps The Stage Stage door interactions slowed down around May. I was fortunate enough to meet Adam at the stage door, as were many friends who went around May 4th; others, however, waited for Adam, only to be told he was not coming. This sort of lag is normal, especially in the middle of a play run that's showing 8 performances a week: the actors are usually tired and want nothing more than to go home and get some sleep.
However, some fans were not satisfied. Some especially dedicated playgoers began staking out all entrance/exit points of the Hudson Theater. Sure enough, on days he didn't sign, Adam was leaving through the main entrance of the theater, accompanied by a small security detail. (Bear in mind that the main entrance =/= the stage door: the stage door was behind the theater and on an entirely separate street.)
A video was posted on Twitter in June 2019 of Adam leaving the main entrance of the Hudson Theater with his head down; in the background, you can hear a small crowd of people shouting after him. One woman gets right to the door of his car, but she is otherwise non-aggressive, and Adam gently turns her down before getting into the vehicle.
Reactions to this post were brief and basically amounted to, "Hey what the fuck OP," but this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to weird, out-of-touch fan behavior.
Days later, a strange Twitter thread emerged, detailing a drunk woman who had to be kicked out of the Hudson and blocked from going near Adam at the stage door. Details of the thread were corroborated by others who were either at the same show or friends with OP. The story goes like this:
A woman got a little too tipsy on 17 dollar beers at the Hudson and sat through the entire show without incident. However, just after bows had ended and the actors had left, the woman stood up, made her way to the front of the stage, and climbed up. She then promptly made her way backstage, where she reportedly gave Keri Russel a huge fright before being escorted out by security. Once she was outside of the backstage area, the stage jumper persisted in trying to dodge security and get in front of Adam, insisting she was a "friend." Adam came out and signed as normal, not once paying attention to the screaming woman trying to dodge several security guards. Adam made his way home unscathed, and the stage jumper was never seen again.
But somehow, this was not the incident that made the news. At this point, you may be wondering why this was not the most memorable incident of the Burn This stage door. How could Adam or Keri not talk about the drunk woman who suddenly appeared backstage?
That's because the incident that did make the news has its roots deep in Adam Driver standom. Those roots dig into some very dark places.
We have arrived at the most famous incident at the Burn This stage door: the dog carving.
Summer 2019: The Dog Carving In the summer, an Adam Driver stan by the username Missus-Misanthrope waited at the stage door with a special gift for Adam Driver: a wood carving of his beloved dog, Moose.
I have seen a picture of the (supposed) carving, but to maintain Missus-Misanthrope's privacy, I will not be posting a screenshot here. Essentially, it's a small, flat block of wood with Moose's smiling face woodburned into it. I am not a fan of Missus-Misanthrope (or her kin in our fandom) by any means, but it is extremely well-done.
When Adam made his way to her at the stage door, Missus-Misanthrope greeted him and handed him the carving. A GIF of this interaction is here.
At the beginning of the GIF, Adam is looking down, presumably at the wood carving. He nods at it and thanks Missus-Misanthrope with a smile. He turns hands it off to his security team. There is a long pause where he appears to be either waiting for his security team or examining the carving. Finally, he turns back to Missus-Misanthrope without making eye contact and continues signing Playbills. His expression is neutral.
Let me be abundantly clear: this exact GIF is impossible to find. This write-up took a while, partially because I was looking all over for the damn thing. It has been scrubbed from the Internet. The original Imgur post is set to "private." Accounts have been erased, posts have been either deleted or archived, and Twitters have been suspended, deactivated, or moved. It took over a week of me asking everyone I knew, combing individual Twitters by date, and abusing the Wayback Machine before someone eventually found it and sent it to me.
Missus-Misanthrope wanted this GIF gone from the Internet. This was the interaction Adam Driver remembered from his stage door. This interaction would become infamous months later, in October, when it came up during an interview.
October 2019: The New Yorker Article During the Burn This run, author Michael Schumer interviewed Adam Driver for the New Yorker. The article was released in October 2019 and can be found here. I highly recommend it: it's a stunning interview, capturing a lot of the nuances of Adam's personality as he goes about his pre-show ritual.
However, this interview made waves because of Adam's off-hand comment about fan interactions at the stage door (emphasis mine):
On the couch was a piece of fan art he had received at the stage door. During “Girls,” strangers would often share details about their sex lives with him. (One guy stopped him in the subway and said, “I love that scene where you pee on her in the shower,” then turned to his girlfriend and said, fondly, “I pee on her all the time.”) But “Star Wars” has made him uncomfortably famous. “This one woman who has been harassing my wife came to the show and gave me a creepy wood carving that she made of my dog,” he said.
The stage jumper, the fans pursuing him at all doors into and out of the Hudson, seemed to fade away in comparison to this ten seconds of stage door history. Adam mentions the "creepy wood carving," and it is never touched upon again. But that one sentence sent stans into fits.
Some began gleefully sharing the original GIF of the interaction; others laughed at Missus-Misanthrope or showed her pity. Still more questioned whether or not it was appropriate to give Adam a portrait of his dog at all: even though Adam has featured Moose in photoshoots, stage door interactions, and even a news interview, opinions are mixed about how much fans are allowed to comment on his personal life. The wood carving of Moose seemed to toe that line in an uncomfortable way and ignited heated discussion on what behavior was "allowed" and "not allowed."
But there is a short passage just after Adam's comment about the wood carving that hints at the dark heart of this scandal:
He and Tucker have a young son, whose birth they kept hidden from the press for two years, in what Driver called “a military operation.” Last fall, after Tucker’s sister, who was launching a peacoat business, accidentally made her Instagram account public and someone noticed the back of his son’s head in one picture, the news wound up on Page Six.
Under what circumstances would Adam and Joanne have to hide a child for two years? Recall that Adam was not just scandalized by the wood carving (emphasis mine):
“This one woman who has been harassing my wife came to the show and gave me a creepy wood carving that she made of my dog."
No, something about Missus-Misanthrope herself had made him deeply uncomfortable. The wood carving wasn't the whole of the issue: it was something about how the fandom had treated his wife and the news of their child.
Here was where the real drama about this tiny wood carving lied.
Daiver Fandom and adamdriverfans Missus-Misanthrope was part of a subreddit called "adamdriverfans." Not to be confused with the main Adam Driver subreddit, "adamdriver," adamdriverfans is incredibly small (only about 3000 subscribers) and, on the surface, appears to be a normal subreddit about Adam and his work. EDIT: It's 3,000 subcribers, not 300. Missed a zero!
However, probe deeper, and adamdriverfans reveals its true nature. The subreddit is, in part, a haven for discussion between Daivers, or people that "ship" Adam Driver and Daisy Ridley and want them to be in a relationship. ("Ship" is short for "relationship.")
Daivers are not to be confused with "Reylos," Star Wars fans who want Adam and Daisy's respective characters, Kylo Ren and Rey, to date. Daivers go one step further and want the actors to be together. Any Daivers found on adamdriverfans are the most extreme iteration of this kind of 'shipper: they believe that Adam and Daisy had an affair, followed by a falling-out somewhere around The Force Awakens, and that Lucasfilm (and their respective publicists) have been keeping them separate. This line of thinking also posits that Joanne is an ice queen keeping Adam on a short leash.
This is not to say that all posters on adamdriverfans are Daivers; many want what's best for Adam and see it as their right to comment on Adam's personal life. But it's challenging to separate posts from true-blue Daivers, posts from those who think Adam and Daisy had an affair, and posts from users who simply hate Joanne Tucker. In my opinion, it's impossible to go near the subreddit unless you believe, on some level, that Joanne and Adam should separate, and that Daisy is a factor in that separation.
Multiple posts exist trashing Joanne Tucker and questioning whether or not the baby is Adam's. Someone doxxed Adam and Joanne and discovered multiple residences, fueling speculation on whether or not they were "secretly" divorced or otherwise separated. There is "evidence" that their marriage is a sham or otherwise a marriage of convenience.
Supporters of Joanne and Adam's marriage and critiques of the subreddit are considered "blind" mean girls ignoring the truth and looking for someone to bully. In reality, the fans on adamdriverfans are hostile towards non-members: One poster even called other women "creepy" for asking to shake Adam's hand at the stage door. Still another post implies that fans who don't believe the rumors are waiting for their chance to sleep with Adam.
For its part, the mods of adamdriverfans posit the subreddit as a place for healthy discussion. Other stans treat adamdriverfans as a joke, leading the mods to be mostly hostile to those questioning the constant dunking on Adam and his wife. Dissenters have even been speculated to be PR people deflecting any discussion of Joanne and Adam's relationship in the hopes of saving *Burn This'*s ticket sales:
4Chan is full of PR people trying to shut down discussion by posting outrageous, disprovable claims in an effort to discredit all info about Joanne. You are a threat because you have a credible story.
This is why Burn This is selling slowly. There are tickets available for every single night and whole parts of the theatre are empty on some nights. Joanne is a PR disaster. They can’t even call on their friends and connections to help fill the seats
It's worthy of note that the Daiver and anti-Joanne communities extends into TikTok and other social media: for example, there is an entire Instagram account called "ihatejoannetucker" dedicated to posting personal photos and making fun of Joanne. Here, I focus on adamdriverfans because it was the main vehicle for Missus-Misanthrope to post her thoughts and feelings.
MissusMisanthrope's Backstory Missus-Misanthrope had been recognized by Adam for a reason: she had already tried to pass a carving (speculated to be the very same dog carving given in 2019) to Adam via Joanne at an AITAF donor event in 2018.
Bear in mind that AITAF events are primarily for celebrating veterans and bringing accessible theater to them and their families. They are not fan events for Adam Driver. However, Missus-Misanthrope saw her opportunity to interact with Adam when she saw Joanne and a friend at the bar (bolding for emphasis by me):
I am an artist and had two gifts that I wanted to try to get to Adam. One was an anniversary plaque for AITAF, the other was a portrait of his dog. When I saw Joanne, I thought she would be the perfect person to help me accomplish this.
From the second I approached her, she made me feel like garbage. I was polite, I thanked her for her work with AITAF. When I said that I had gifts for Adam, she asked me if I was a veteran. When I said no, she narrowed her eyes at me and asked me "how did you get IN HERE?" as though she suspected that I had... snuck in?
"I donated money that was very hard to come by and purchased a ticket" I responded.
She chuckled smugly and said "oh... you're a DONOR. No. I can't help you."
I was taken aback... I was not sure that I heard her correctly. "You can't do anything? If I give them to you can you..."
"No"
Then she turned to the woman she was with and said "Lindsay, this... DONOR has PRESENTS for ADAM."
Then they both just... laughed? Like how could I EVER think that they would let me give my STUPID presents to ADAM.
Missus-Misanthrope continued describing feelings of hurt, dismissal, and betrayal.
I felt like they both viewed me like I was NOTHING.
I have never felt like such a freaking idiot in my life.
So... that was something. I almost cried. Went into the situation really admiring Joanne. Left the situation feeling really disillusioned and crappy and like I did something wrong. It sucked to look forward to that event so much and work hard to overcome anxiety to travel to NY alone and have some awful crap like that happen.
She implies that, had Adam not commented his gratitude towards donors later on in the event, she would not have felt appreciated or seen (emphasis mine):
Adam was very vocal about his appreciation of the donors to AITAF so at least I didn't feel like complete useless trash.
I hope she isn't treating a lot of donors like this. This could really make some people look at AITAF in a different light if she is the only person they interact with.
A later comment in the same thread underlines feelings of betrayal (emphasis mine):
I have played it over and over in my head and I literally didn't do anything wrong. I mean, even if I had, she is a grown woman... why was she laughing at me? I felt like I was in a freaking nightmare.
Her behavior was so ugly and childish. If she is doing this to people, they NEED to speak up. I don't know why anyone feels like they need to protect her if she is really treating people this way. This type of behavior coming from her can impact the reputation of Adam and AITAF.
I am going to be sending an official complaint to AITAF about my experience. It was just so, so not okay.
By the time Missus-Misanthrope attended the stage door in 2019, she had already publicly expressed dislike of Joanne and became a valued member of adamdriverfans. And Adam, whether through his wife or through other incidents at other AITAF events, knew full well who she was.
October 2019: Your Friendly Neighborhood Pariah Fans elsewhere quickly identified the "creepy wood carving" girl as Missus-Misanthrope. EDIT: I've been informed that it was not fans, but Missus-Misanthrope's husband, who identified her. Her husband left an angry comment (now deleted) on the author's Twitter.
adamdriverfans, predictably, went absolutely apeshit.
The article was deemed to be "angry" and vengeful towards fans like Missus-Misanthrope for no reason. A poster deemed calling Missus-Misanthrope out in the article "classless." There was worry that Missus-Misanthrope was now in danger due to Adam's comment:
This fan has NOTHING. Who is going to protect her from the onslaught of Adam’s rabid fans and even the media who will likely try and track her down?
Other members of adamdriverfans said that Adam was well within his right to say something:
People are taking this way too personally. The fact is, there are a lot of Adam Driver "fans" out there who have been too creepy, taken things too far, and done gross stuff like deliberately scribble his wife out of photos they took together. Are those fans in the minority? Yeah, I'm positive of that.
But he has every right to his opinion and every right to express boundaries like any other person out there. I'm not even a huge fan of the dude and I get where he's coming from, regardless of how awkwardly he puts it.
He doesn't owe anybody anything. No one is entitled to him being 24/7 super nice and positive and not mentioning stuff like this.
Those who side with Missus-Misanthrope say that Adam was targeting Missus-Misanthrope on purpose:
My issue with the article was not that Adam expressed being creeped out by a fan/defending his wife. My issue is that he targeted someone specific. This fan had been having issues with AD and giving him this specific woodcarving for a YEAR now. I believe that this specific fan was mentioned on purpose. I don’t believe in coincidences.
But what about Missus-Misanthrope? Well...she didn't feel good, to put it lightly. In a statement to the subreddit entitled "Your Friendly Neighborhood Pariah," Missus-Misanthrope defended her behavior at the 2018 AITAF event:
I simply approached her in a common area of the theatre because I was advised by AITAF staff that I could talk to her about handing my gifts for AITAF and Adam off to someone who was able to help. Had I not been told that she was someone who could help me after the AITAF folks said that I should "definitely try to get the gifts to Adam" because "he will love them" I would not have even spoken to her.
All I was trying to do was give something to someone that I admire and to a foundation that I support. I wasn't trying to break up a marriage or be manipulative. I was following advice from people who work for AITAF and it ended up turning into a very unpleasant situation.
Regarding the stage door interaction, Missus-Misanthrope felt attacked and exhausted:
Less than 24 hours later, I was being attacked and insulted for basically just existing in the same place as Adam. I now just wish I had never gone.
This fandom makes me sad and a little bit sick. I am going to just continue existing as I have been in the past. I am just doing my best. If people hate me, I doubt that I can change that. I have no control over what anyone does but my own self. So I am just going to focus on being a decent person and treating others with kindness.
The mods on adamdriverfans followed up with a post on Missus-Misanthrope:
Here at this sub we have had the pleasure and privilege of knowing MissusMisanthrope and we have seen firsthand how brave she has been in the face of so much bullying and harassment – all because she had spoken about incident with Joanne Tucker and for daring to give Adam Driver a gift. What happened yesterday though is on an entirely different level altogether. What has happened to MissusMisanthrope feels like a horror story of the worst possible outcome of being a fan of a celebrity:
Bullied by the celebrity’s wife and staff.
Bullied and doxed by fans of the celebrity.
Finally, being bullied by the celebrity himself.
But curiously, according to adamdriverfans, Adam had pointed out the wrong fan:
The absolutely tragedy of this situation is (and I can not state this enough) is that he singled out the wrong person. Again, HE SINGLED OUT THE WRONG PERSON. There is another person who actively harassed JT and her family on social media (the infamous StalkerChan) but, let’s be absolutely clear about this, that wasn’t MissusMisanthrope.
This meant that there was a mysterious other fan behaving inappropriately, and that Adam had mistaken Missus-Misanthrope for the other fan.
Regardless of the error, the dice had been cast, and the votes were in: Adam Driver hated his fans, and Missus-Misanthrope was, indeed, a fandom pariah.
Aftermath: Exodus, Post Purging, and the Downward Spiral to Doucheville I want to emphasize how challenging it was to dig up receipts for this post. That's because, shortly after the article broke, Missus-Misanthrope deleted all of her social media, and adamdriverfans began deleting older posts. When I began compiling evidence in September 2020, many old posts, tweets, etc. were completely gone. The GIF of the infamous stage door interaction had been almost completely wiped from the Internet: the original post on Imgur is private.
Shortly after the New Yorker article, Adam opened an Omaze charity campaign: By donating money to AITAF, you would be entered into a raffle to attend The Rise of Skywalker premiere with him.
However, Adam had previously voiced his distaste for peddling his autograph for money:
I don’t want to start getting into favors. It’s not about me and Star Wars. It’s about the people that we’re trying to serve and if you don’t get that then I’d rather not be associated with your money.
As a result, this Omaze campaign was met with negative reactions from those who sided with Missus-Misanthrope, with the general opinion that Adam was now a "sellout," a slave to his wife's desires to "save" AITAF from bad press. Many questioned if the Omaze campaign was an effort to repair relationships with fans after the Missus-Misanthrope scandal. Others questioned whether Adam was on a downward spiral in general, linking his "sellout" behavior to his weight loss and (supposed) fighting with Joanne.
Either way, one comment seemed to sum up the drama nicely:
It seems he is on a downward spiral to Doucheville.
Many announced that they were leaving the fandom after the Omaze campaign and after the New Yorker article. However, given the proximity to the mass exodus from the Star Wars fandom after The Rise of Skywalker hit theaters in December, it is unclear how much of the Adam standom exodus is Star Wars related and how much is Missus-Misanthrope related.
Regardless of the opinions of those on adamdriverfans, the Omaze campaign was a success. A veteran (coincidentally named Joanna) won and met Adam. A fan-run campaign started after The Rise of Skywalker raised a whopping 90,000 dollars for AITAF, funding their 2020 fiscal year and landing a personal thank-you from Adam himself. Needless to say, bad press from Missus-Misanthrope's interactions with Adam and Joanne did not stick.
It is unknown whether or not Adam will do another Broadway run in the future.
EDIT: I'm super overwhelmed and delighted by the positive reception to this post. Thank you so, so much for the great discussion and for reading this (and for giving it awards!). If you're spending money to give me awards, it would be stellar if you could give that money to BLM instead.
submitted by momo-official to HobbyDrama [link] [comments]


2020.10.23 19:43 NutleyHow Sex hid video

Hello everybody, hope you're doing okay out there, stay strong.
Originally, i just wanted to check in real quick, but this developed into a wall of text, and i apologize for that in advance. But, after probably destroying my family, it's actually kind of therapeutical. And if my mistakes of the past can help just one person, it was worth it.
Also please excuse any spelling or syntax errors, i'm an advanced english speaker but its not my first language.
So here it goes:
I'm currently getting clean for the second time in my life. I've smoked all through school and college, but stopped when i lost my drivers license in 2009. It wasn't that hard, because the process involved regular tests and at the end, after one year sober, there was a big reward: Driving my car again. So it worked.
Why i actually started smoking at all around the age of 14 is something i will hopefully talk through with a therapist in the next months. I was the oldest of three brothers, my father was usually at work, my mom was in over her head. I suspect my drug use had something to do with the fact that i only remember her screaming or beating me. That more than once she told me she'd better gotten rid of me in the hospital and kept the afterbirth instead. Maybe it was my father hitting me so hard he broke heavy wooden cloth hangers on my back. That one time, when i was crying on the floor afterwards, he kicked me in the stomach so vicious i was shitting blood and had to go to the hospital. "Why is blood in his stool?" the doctor asked. "Because i kicked him in the stomach" my father said, quietly. No alarms were raised, nobody gave a damn. I was maybe 11 at that time. For the outside world, we were the perfect family, with gifted children. It's just a guess, but maybe it all started there.
Anyway, after smoking all through my teenage years and a large part of university, i had a bad experience with weed in 2009 and decided to stop and get my life on track. It was a sunny day and i felt really good, sober. Then i smoked a joint with a friend, but it was way too much and very potent stuff. I felt horrible and decided to give it a try, but the process to get my drivers license back helped a lot to stay on track, because it involved regular testing. I stayed clean from 2009 to 2015, six years, and boy, those were amazing years: Met my wife, started studying in earnest, went travelling. I did sports and when i look at pictures from that time, all i see is a well trained young man with a clean conscience. But at the same time, i would have horrible nightmares, even after years being clean. They were always similar: Somehow i got into posession of a large quantity of green, to "look over it" or something, and then i would get weak. I'd wake up soaked in cold sweat, and in those moments between sleep and being awake there was this horrible thought: "Did i relapse?"
But i didn't. I was out of the game. Friends would call me after years, asking if i "knew anyone" to "help them out" but all i could say was "I can't help you. I don't know anyone." And it was the truth. There were no points of contact with weed in my life.
Then, in 2014, my first daughter was born. In hindsight, that was the moment everything went to shit. Not because of her, of course, but because of what it set in motion. I was in my last semester, only one more exam, then i'd finally finish that stupid place they call university. Its a bubble, really, and i hated it but after that much time invested, i thought i might as well finish it.
Suddenly being a father, and with only one more exam to go, i looked for a job to make some money. Provide. I deeply regret the choices i made afterwards.
The best payed job available was being a caretaker for a guy in a wheelchair. He was paralyzed on one side, and i would usually start my shift in the afternoon, get him ready for bed, then sleep in a seperate room on standby. What i didn't know in the beginning was that a large part of the job involved rolling joints. He smoked about 10 during the day, since according to him it was the only thing that helped against his spasticity. Uncontrollable shaking, basically.
Looking back, i was arrogant to believe that job was right for me, considering my history with weed. But, being so sure that part of my life was over, i told him: "Man, you've got just the right guy, i used to smoke and can roll 'em like a machine." I told everybody who didn't climb a tree in three seconds that these idiots pay me 20 bucks an hour to roll joints and watch TV. The fact that i was so open about it tells me how sure i was nothing would happen. People who knew me voiced their concerns, but i brushed them off. I was a different person now, i told myself. No way i could relapse, right?
But it was like making a dry alcoholic a bartender, then leaving him alone behind the bar. A usual shift would end with him giving me a large amount of weed and the instruction "Can you roll me 20 joints? See you tomorrow" before he went to bed, masturbating with some sort of device. Poor fella, but i kinda liked him. Of course, that was before i knew what kind of videos he was watching while doing it.
When i was done rolling, there was always a little left. After a few weeks, i started taking the leftovers with me, giving them to a friend. It was like a game, but looking back, i was testing my limits. He had huge amounts at home, so he never noticed.
We got to know each other better over the following months. Then, one day in February 2015, we were talking about sex, just two guys talking about women. He asked me what kind of women i liked. "Slim with really big tits", i said, basically describing my wife. He seemed disappointed. "I like little girls under the age of ten", he said, but i thought i misheard (he had trouble speaking), so i asked him: "And you? What do you like?" He goes: "I just told you".
It hit me like a hammer. Here i was, father of a little girl, washing and supporting a dude who, like an excuse, told me he was actually happy to be paralyzed, because he couldn't act on his urges. He meant rape. Like he wanted a medal for that.
That night, i relapsed. Outside, it was dark, cold and rainy. I was sitting in his shitty appartement, away from my wife and baby, and i missed them. I realized that the guy i got to know and that i even kinda liked was really depraved. And in front of me, there was a big bag of weed, papers, and tips. And i thought "F*** this guy, i'm gonna smoke a little of his stuff. I've been clean so long, it's not a problem"
But it spiralled out of control so quick. As a pedophile, to me, he was fair game. Every shift i would steal one or two grams from him, and his sexual disfunction was my excuse to do that. I continued to do my chores, but from that day, i treated him differently. No more friendly words, less gentle, not a single thing outside my contract and i would not talk with him about my family. Soon after that i quit, asking for a different client. But before that i made contact with his dealer. I was hooked again.
Fast forward five years of daily smoking, until September 2020. For the first three years, it was only in the evening, when everyone was in bed. I'd walk the last round with the dog, smoke a joint, then sit on the computer gaming until early in the morning. It was like i never stopped, like i was that slacker teenager again.
The last two years, it got so far that i realized i might have an addiction. I'd smoke before going to work or during lunch breaks. I'd sneak away at family gatherings, funerals, weddings. I tried to stop many times, delete the number of my dealers. But it never worked. After two days i would restore my contacts (thank you google) and make another order.
Nobody knew anything, so the constant lies put a strain on my relationship. I'm bad at keeping secrets, so she'd find papers or tips from time to time, asking me if i smoke again. I denied, lied, played it down. Slowly, i killed her trust in me, and without trust, a relationship dies. Sometimes it felt that my stoned self maybe even wanted it all go down the drain, so i could finally smoke and game in peace.
And it did. Last month, the tension that had built up over the years exploded in one, heavy fight. There was no violence or bad words, but after the fight she told me she couldn't go on like this. And i understand her: Who wants to be with a moody asshole? A guy that could be the nicest person in the morning, or a really mean bastard, but you never know before he wakes up? Who would sleep in, miss appointments, forget things? I'd done the same in her position.
Although i kind of expected that day to come, it was the biggest shock of my life when it finally came mid-september. We've been together for 11 years, have two kids, and i can honestly say i'd planned to spend the rest of my life with her.
But every crisis is a chance: After a few days in a high stupor, without eating, dropping my weight to 78 Kilos at 1,90m, i decided it was enough. The thought of "Why go on?" was replaced with another thought, a defiant side i never knew i had: "They don't break you that easy. If they want a fight, i'm gonna give them a fight" ("They" being no particular person, more like the world in general)
So October 3rd, one day before my daughters birthday, was the last time i smoked. Just crumbs i had left. I still have my dealers number, i have money in my pocket, but i don't call. Every bit of romanticized view on weed, every bit of nostalgia has been replaced with hate. Hate on the substance that almost ruined my life. Hate about what it did, what i did, to my little family. I can't explain it, and i dont expect anyone to believe me, but the urge is gone. The thoughts are gone. I waited years for this moment and it took almost breaking me for it to happen. It's a horrible thing, but maybe i needed that brutal wake-up call.
Now, i dont want to look back, just forward. I'm looking for an appartement close to our house, so i can be there for my kids and support their mother. The kids are my number one priority now, luckily they are too young to understand what happened. Do i wish to sit beside my wife as an old man, laughing about this time? Sure. Can i have a fulfilling life without her, maybe even one day loving another person and be loved again? Also sure. It took me a while to realize that.
And it feels so good! I've gained weight again in the past weeks, and it feels like my batteries are finally full, not running at 60% all the time. Before, i was only hunting for moments of "doing nothing", now i experience that actually "doing things" gives you deep satisfaction. She'd went on a three week holiday with the kids, to get some distance between us, and i've used that time to work on the house, doing little repairs, making the kids room really nice. I've also started organizing my life, even helping friends organizing theirs. It's so much easier without weed. I've started running, doing push-ups, eating like a maniac. Slowly, i start to see myself in the mirror again, my shoulders growing wider, my teeth getting whiter, my thoughts not scattered all the time, but focused like a laser beam. I'm not doing that to win her back. I do it for me. Finally.
I didn't stop smoking weed. I freed myself from it.
The best metaphor i can think of is that before, my life felt like driving with the handbrakes on. Sure, you can move from A to B, but it's slow, loud, and you know deep inside it's not supposed to be like that. Now i feel like a Tiger, ready to pounce. Hungry, driven, relentless. It's a good feeling. I never want to be that other person again.
The next step, obviously, is seeking therapy. There is a reason i started to smoke and there is a reason that after almost six years, it only took the availability of the drug and the excuse of the owner being a dirtbag to start smoking again. I actually look forward to analyze that with the help of a professional, helping me understand myself and the decisions i made. Today i got the results of my test: There are, even after 20 days, still traces of THC it in my system. Faint, almost at the threshold of "nothing", but still there. Time to go running again, sweating the last molecules out. I will never let it get back inside my system again. For the first time in my life, i have no doubts about that.
So, this is probably the moment for some sort of moral in this story, i doubt anybody read that far anway. But for the slim chance anyone did, and because it would make me happy if i can help just one person, i will try to summarize my mistakes or what helped me.

  1. For the first time, i was honest to myself and the people around me. For years i smoked and everyone thought i was still clean. I was too ashamed to tell them the truth. Now, for the first time i told my parents (broken people, still my parents), my brothers, my clostest friends and my wife. It's a big step and i disappointed a lot of people. But its much easier if everyone is on the same page. Keeping it as a secret only made it worse.
  2. Seeking professional help, because seeking help when you really need it is a sign of strength, not a weakness. There are people whose job it is to help people get back on track. They can help finding therapists or, if needed, a stationary detox period in specialized facilities.
  3. I ackknowledged its an addiction. Many people say its "just weed" and for years i hid behind Bob Marley and other famous potheads. It's an addiction and it takes a lot of willpower to fight it alone.
  4. I waited too long for the collapse. Weed is mostly a victimless crime with no real consequences, at least in the short run. I waited too long and i should have acted sooner.
  5. I try to be kind to myself. A long time, i hated myself for my habits, and its a very destructive thing to do. Realizing that everything happens for a reason and cutting me some slack helped a lot.
  6. Against the cravings, i started running. It's proven that it can help overcome those moments, sport is also a great antidepressant. I listened to my favourite music and ran until the craving stopped. For motivation i used an app, which i won't name here, but it involves zombies and running. It's free and goes great with music.
  7. I tell myself: "I'm freeing myself, not "I'm stopping". Its just framing, but made a huge difference to me.
  8. I realized that i can never smoke again in my life. After being a daily user for a long period of time who also started very young, weed is rooted in my brain, right there with the basic needs like sleeping or eating. It will take a long, long, time to go away, and probably never will. I'm at peace with the fact that i can never go back to casual smoking.
That is all i can think of. Thank you, dear reader, for making this journey with me. DM me for any questions or if you need a wingman on your own journey.
kind regards
Nutley How
Edit: I'm in no position to tell anyone what to do. I just wanted to share my experiences and what helped me. So i rephrased some of my bullet points, since what helped me might not work for others and vice versa. I also tuned the language down to PG13.
submitted by NutleyHow to leaves [link] [comments]


2020.10.22 05:36 Odium_and_Ardency Sex video hid

We met in college at ages 19 and 20, 6 years ago. It was purely physical at first, but morphed into exclusivity with time. We had nothing in common, except for both not being neurotypical. She was from across the country, studying in my home state, focusing on literature and poetry, filled with joy and happiness, always giving the benefit of the doubt, always believing that everyone and their feelings are valid. I was I guess, rough around the edges. I had a difficult adolescence, which began spiraling at age 14 when I was introduced to Oxycontin by my older friends who were in college at the time. This led to me being 16 and hanging out with 22/23/24 year olds who had no problems sticking a needle full of dialudid or heroin into a child's arm on a regular basis. I remember being 15 and having my 19 year old best friend go into the pawn shop for me to pawn my belongings, ipods, laptops, etc, because you can only afford so much working part time at that age. When I was in college, at age 20, I was doing heroin on a daily basis, buying whatever I could afford from my very small wage from doing manual labor on a loading dock. Dinner would typically consist of either bread and hot sauce or just sleep. I had a deep hatred of the world and most of the people who inhabited it. I also hated myself a great deal. I was angry all the time and not willing to understand other's perspectives. I had a great amount of distrust in others. I welcomed death, an overdose to finally pull the blanket over my face, and tuck me into my grave.
Communication between us was always extremely difficult. She having ADHD/BipolaAutism/extreme anxiety and me having a lot of anxiety, depression, and very bad ADHD. My impatience and anger issues never helped when we couldn't find resolution to a lingering problem. That said, I think it's very important to note here that I was never physical or abusive with her in any way. There were lots of times the first few years where I was a huge asshole, I admit, I should of been better. And since then I have been trying to atone for those problems I caused.
We became very codependent. It was just us, we were each other's world for so long. We both weren't doing well, but we had each other. She had a major depressive episode lasting a year, where she dropped out of college and didn't work. She would just play video games day and night with her friends ignoring the outside world.
After 2 years together we decided to get an apartment, finally settle down with each other, we had a dog as well. But before that she went back to her home state for the duration of the summer. I was devastated by this. Mostly because at that point I had alienated all my friends so it was just me trying to get by. I kept a journal, I wrote in it every day, about her, how much I missed her, and how much I loved her. Summer ended and it was finally time to move in together, I was so happy and excited. We got mostly moved in then I had to leave for work for the day. I got back at 10pm or so, walked in the front door, unpacked boxes everywhere, and there she was with the dog to greet me.
For some reason I was terrified. I felt trapped, claustrophobia set in. We were just 21 and 22 at this point and I felt like my life was set in stone like this forever. After being clean from heroin for 6 months or so I picked it back up again. This continued every day for almost exactly one year. During this time I had overdosed. I took too much, laid on the couch, she came in to check on me and found me upside down, blue in the face. She sat me upright, gave me CPR or mouth to mouth or resuscitation, and woke me up. That night she saved my life. And ever since then I felt like I owed her a great debt that I will always try to pay back.
After all that, I quit using drugs and cleaned up. At this point we had been living at this apartment for 2 years, I loved her a great deal, those feelings of being trapped went away, and I knew I wanted to be with her. But I had to leave this apartment. To me it was cursed at this point. And staying in it only gave me a ton of depression. I suggested we move to her home state because it was warm and much better than where we currently were. She was reluctant. She did not like her parents and had found happiness in our little apartment home. This is where she was able to finally find a job she liked nearby and she was actually happy. But I was miserable, I needed out of there otherwise I'd probably end up using again. Every day there I wanted to brush my teeth with a buckshot. I pushed and I pushed and eventually she caved in and agreed.
A few months later we both quit our jobs and drove 18 hours to her home state. There we stayed with her parents for 6 months. I felt great, I felt like I was finally happy here. I was sober and for the first time I was optimistic about the future. I found a job that was able to further my career. But she had difficulty finding a job she liked. About 4 or 5 months into living there she broke up with me out of no where. I was blindsided. She explained that she meant to do it before we moved here but she chickened out. She was unable to communicate how much she didn't want to do this. She then had to leave for work. I was sent into a full panic attack. Here I was, staying with her and her parents, thousands of miles from home, and I was about to be homeless. I drank throughout that night until she came home the next morning. Then we had a long discussion about communication. We agreed to try again. We agreed that we needed to move out of her parents because it was bringing her down.
I was making decent money at this point and found a very nice "luxury" apartment in the town we worked in. I was hesitant but she really liked it, so I pulled the trigger. We moved in on January of 2019 I believe? I thought things were going well, my job was stressful and I wanted to quit, but at least we were together right? I noticed she had become increasingly withdrawn from me. Slowly over time, she'd rather spend much more time gaming and talking to her friends online than spending time with me. To the point where it just felt like we were roommates. I communicated to her multiple times how awful this made me feel, that my emotional needs were not being met at all. But nothing resulted. Maybe for a day she'd spend time with me, but then the next day it would be - work, come home, play video games and talk to friends for 8-10 hours. Eventually, Covid happened, and I was working from home full time. Along with this, I was interviewing for a new job with a pretty prestigious company. I went through 5/6 interviews, not expecting to get the job, but one day the recruiter called me, said it was all mine, I'd start in a month, and the salary was a few thousand shy of 6 figures a year. Incredible news. I had doubled my salary just like that. We were both ecstatic.
She worked nights and I worked days. So I was always home when she was. I think this was suffocating her in a way. Fights increased. And I began to see many signs of emotional cheating on her part. I'd spot out of the corner of my eye very intimate conversations with one individual, who she'd dedicate all of her time to. 90% of her attention would be fixated on this person or another. The people changed over the years but it was very consistent since we had moved states. She would never let me see her phone. One day I saw her messaging someone, a guy, who said something like "good morning sexy :)" and she had replied "heyy! :)", very flirtatious, and it wasn't the first time I had seen something like that. I was upset, but didn't lose my cool or yell. I wanted an explanation, but the explanation was only "were just friends, that's just how we talk". Before all this I had explained boundaries and how I wasn't comfortable with any of this because these random internet people would have 90% of my girlfriend's attention most of the time. It was frustrating. I paid almost all the bills, I cleaned up the apartment, cleaned up after her, took care of the dog, got us food. While she would just either sleep, work, or talk to internet friends. There were times I would have to explain to her that she shouldn't be sleeping for 14-18 hours at a time, and should shower regularly, rather than every 2-3 days. But after seeing that conversation I asked her to stay with her parents for a night while I think about things because no matter what I said, or tried, or did, nothing ever changed. She wouldn't change. She would continue to avoid all responsibility and accountability.
The next morning she was in our bedroom and I was in the living room working. She texted me "are you still mad?" and I said yes, I had just woken up and was working, and was just agitated in general. She flew into a frenzy. Began packing as much of her belongings as she could. Made a big scene of it. I tried talking to her but she wouldn't say a word to me. Just a look of pure hatred in her eyes. I had to be in a work meeting and during that she grabbed her bag and the dog and left. I broke down, started sobbing, called off work for the day and tried to contact her. After several hours she sent me text after text about how she hated me for making her move to her home state, how she hated me for moving into the apartment she wanted (?), and how we were never compatible to begin with and how it would never work between us. She was incredibly cold and made a point of it. That we were finished.
After a week passed she finally agreed to see me. I hugged her and started to break down sobbing. To me she was my everything, even with all the bullshit I had been put through these past few months. She was sympathetic, and agreed to sort of try to reconcile. She would continue to live with her parents who were 40 minutes away, but she would come over every day or every other day after work. She worked nights and would get home at 7:30am and would crawl into bed with me, we would have sex, hold each other, and get food. Then she would leave for the day. I would try to text her throughout the day but never really received much of a response. She would be at her parents gaming for 8 hours straight then pass out, go to work, then visit me for a few hours. About 5 or 6 times we would make plans on her days off for her to come over and we would have a date night, and each time she would fall asleep and not show up. When I tried calling she would reject the calls. Consumed with anxiety and trying to avoid accountability. This continued all summer. Finally, in August we had a breakthrough conversation detailing all the issues in our relationship and how we could move forward, it felt like the most progress we had ever made. A few days later she moved back in.
While she was here I would try to spend time with her. I would try to talk to her. Try to breakthrough to her again. So I could really understand what was bothering her. But she would typically avoid me most of the time. Usually dedicating all her time to gaming or sleeping. After 2 weeks, 2 days in a row she would get off work, then just spend 3 hours in her car on her phone talking to her internet friends. I confronted her about this when she came in. She finally told me that she isn't happy here. She isn't happy with me. And she wants this to finally be over. That was the only explanation I ever got. At this point I was of course devastated, but saw it coming. I love her so much I just want her to be happy. I agreed to end things. It wouldn't make any sense to continue like this. She admitted to me that she hasn't been happy here these past 2 years, and that she completely hid all her true feelings from me. Even though I would constantly ask her what's wrong, is everything ok? She admitted to me, months before she left me, she started the legal paperwork to change her name. Just lie after lie, or rather, keeping me so in the dark as to what she was really feeling.
We spent that entire day together, holding onto each other for one last time. The next day she packed up her things and left. This was late August of this year.
For the next few weeks, she would occasionally come over in the mornings, we were in a strange limbo of intimacy. Very on/off. Eventually I said I cant continue doing this unless we both agree to put in work to fix this relationship. That we both had unresolved issues we needed to fix. She didn't want to do this, said it was too much work, too much effort. That things were beyond repair at this point. I was confused with that statement but let her go. We said our final goodbye in person on September 10th. We held each other, foreheads pressed together, sobbing onto each other's face. The love between us is strong. It always has been. We both said that we would love and care for each other forever. Finally she said, "if I don't leave now, I never will" - that sentence haunts me every single day, and every time I think of it, I fall completely apart. The weight of the world just destroying every ounce of me.
She let me keep the dog, said she prefer the dog stay with me. One weekend I had to go out of town, and she agreed to take the dog for the weekend. When I returned she refused to give me the dog back. She was extremely cold in her words through text again then ghosted me. Refused to answer her phone or respond. I stopped trying at this point. Began no contact which lasted a month.
I focused on myself. I was sober, I wrote, I read, I got more tattoos, I lost more weight, continued seeing a therapist and psychiatrist, working on deep rooted personal issues, and felt more at ease with myself. Went on Tinder, eventually got 50 matches or so. Tried having conversations with these women. Nothing much ever really resulted. A few dates, a one night stand, nothing notable. This left me more depressed than ever. The lack of intimacy, the lack of love, being all alone here with no friends or family remotely nearby. I very temporarily began using again, mostly beer and xanax, or somehow legal opiod RCs that were literal poison that fucked my nose up for weeks. I'd blackout every night, call some of these women, and just rant and ramble about everything for hours on end. Some were interested in this, some thought I was just crazy. But, nothing ever resulted.
I got a puppy, to have some of the companionship that was robbed from me. He's alright, when he's not shitting on my floor.
No contact ended yesterday when I had to reach out to her about how she needed to sign the lease cancellation for the apartment in person, otherwise we lose the deposit. After cycling through all these other women the only thing I wanted was to be back with her again. I missed her more than anything at this point. I figured, a month has passed, she must be missing me right? She must be. I told her about how I was doing, some bad days some good. I asked about her. She said she was still just playing video games at her parents house. And that she was "talking to a nice girl I met online, she's trans." In her texts she was very cold again, talking as if we were only just acquaintances. I asked if that person she met online was a romantic interest or just a friend. No response. I figure she probably fell asleep. Will probably hear the answer tonight. Probably wont like the answer. Yet I still texted her asking if we could meet and get tea sometime. Me, being a complete dumbass, thinking I still have a chance. Whereas she seems perfectly content living with her parents playing video games all day.
I can't grasp the concept of how moved on she is. How incredibly in love with me she used to be, how kind and warm she was. Now I just receive scorn and ice, resentment - even though she has forgiven me and has absolved me of past wrongdoings. I know when things fell apart. It's when we moved here. She thought I took everything from her, her happiness, everything. And there has been resentment towards me ever since. Everything in some capacity is my fault. She hasn't seen a therapist in 2 or 3 years at this point. Even though I insisted she see one because she was genuinely doing better when she was seeing one regularly. She has no interest in having any sort of plans for the future. And seemingly at this point has very little interest in me. And I continue to struggle with this. I can't connect with these other people online. They don't know what I've been through, my struggles, how different I am. I feel like an alien, unable to connect with others. Just wading my way through endless small talk. If I have to ask another person what their occupation is and if they enjoy it one more time I'm going to outfit my skull with a moon roof.
Do you remember that notebook I wrote in every day, several years ago, for her? I still have it, and periodically throughout this I have written letters to her, some angry, some sad, some filled with love. Some of the best poetry I've ever written. Enclosed in that notebook. I planned on giving it to her when January comes and I have to move out. But, I'm not so sure anymore. I don't think she would appreciate it. I don't think she would read it. At least any time soon. And after pouring my entire heart out into those pages, it would sting knowing it would be collecting dust, never opened - or thrown away.
I like to think, at some point, maybe months from now, maybe years. That she will realize she made a mistake. Because for now and the foreseeable future, she is stuck living with her parents, making a very small wage. Whereas I have continually improved myself, not only mentally but emotionally. I've grown a lot during this time. I have a stable career. I could provide near everything to her if she wanted. But she doesn't want it.
For the first time in quite a while, I don't have a plan. I'm 26 now. I haven't been dating since I was a teenager. Our lease ends in January. I literally have no friends or family here, besides my dog. I have a great job that pays even better. So I guess I'll rent a house for a year, continue these conversations with strangers that lead no where. And decide if I want to pack up and head back north at the end of 2021.
After everything, even how for the past year I have been treated like garbage, like I was merely an acquaintance in her life - I still love her. I still cling to the idea of us starting completely over. Meeting for the first time after not seeing each other for a while and rebuilding. Being there for each other. Being able to truly communicate with each other. But, she says she's happy where she is right now. And she is "talking" to someone else. Someone probably kinder than I was. Someone who she can actually communicate with. During the last breakup, I suggested couples therapy - she scoffed at that saying it was only for old people. She just doesn't want to try and fix things. In her eyes, everything has burned to the ground. In my eyes, I still wait in our small apartment, hoping I'll hear that door unlock one day, and she'll come in, and we'd embrace. But I know that day will never come. And the world keeps spinning. Regardless of anyone's hopes.
submitted by Odium_and_Ardency to ExNoContact [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 21:02 Due-Ad5466 Almost 2 years after, AP is back and i got police involved

Last year in May my (31M) wife (30F) revealed that she was seeing another man that she met at her friend's Bday party in Janurary. She said they just talked for most of the party and she didn't plan on seeing him again, but he got her number from her friend. She said that after numerous times he asked she agreed to go out for coffee with him and nothing happened so she continued seeing him until they ended up in his place and they ended up having sex. She continued to see him every other weekend and admitted she been to his place about 8 or 9 times.
But before learning all that I confronted her cause I saw she took a pregnancy test, she hid the box in the bottom of the garbage but I always empty the bin upside down rather then changing the bag. BTW I had a vasectomy!
When I confronted her she started crying and promised me she already ended the affair a few weeks ago. Kept crying she was sorry and she will do anything, it got to a point she started having an anxiety attack and I just don't know why she would do that if she didn't want to ruin our marriage. I demanded proof she ended it and she showed me the last texts which at least did confirm she did tell him she can't see him anymore.
That night I got drunk as I was so enraged I wouldn't have been able to sleep. The next day she wouldn't leave my side, but I was angry and wanted space. I left to my dads for about a month. In that time she called me everyday, sent me poems and love emails. At the same time, I drove by our house to see if she was actually there and there was no other cars, so I still cared.
Well after a month apart I agreed to move back with her and start reconciliation, with some rules that she keeps a GPS app on her phone telling me where she is at all times (extreme maybe) but she broke my trust and didn't know what else to do if we were going to fix this. She had no problems with anything and seemed nothing more then to want to fix this.
One year later, I can say we have been closer then ever and I realized some of my own short comings, (not to excuse what she did) but I think we reached a point where we are both happy and satisfied. Of course I will maybe always hold a grudge knowing that she had an affair, but when we are both happy I seem to be able to keep that grudge in the very back of my mind and just accept that what happened happened and its best to not dwell on it.
Now, last week she told me that he (AP) messaged her, asking how she was doing, she did not reply. He texted her again asking miss me?
She told me about the texts and didn't reply to him. I got very angry that he was texting my wife and I already knew what he wanted. I text him from my phone telling him to get lost (I used much harsher and semi threatening words) he replied "oh really? Scared ill plow your wife again? She said you had a small D and all"
I became so fucking angry I threw my phone up against the wall, my wife is promising me she did not say that and that he's just angry that she doesn't want him. At this point I don't know what to believe. But I blocked his number.
Then I got a message on Facebook from my non contacts list. It was him using a burner account and he sent me a photo of my wife in what I'm guessing is his place and her on his couch. Then he sent me a video file which I knew I didn't want to see it, but I clicked it anyway and it was a video of her performing oral on him. I couldn't watch passed a few seconds.
I felt like I got hit by a fucking train. I feel all the progress I made with my wife is back to square one, I cant look her in the eyes anymore without thinking about what she did. I knew that this happened before but to actually see it I feel fucking humiliated and emasculated.
I called the cops on this guy and they are investigating him, they tell me he can be charged for defamation and harassment. I hate this guy, everything was going so well. Yesterday morning I was getting up for work and after showering and getting dressed I broke down, crying like a fucking baby and collapsing on the floor, my wife came to my aid and held me, but this is the same women who broke me. At this point I was enjoying what we had, before APs messages came but after what I saw I dont know how long it will take me to get over this, that grudge in my mind has gotten so much bigger and it may be unsustainable in this relationship. Need advice.
submitted by Due-Ad5466 to survivinginfidelity [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 01:02 throwaway_throwawayp Video hid sex

So, I’m completely broken. My heart hurts.
I’ve been with this person since 2013, when we were young. We made mistakes when we were young but now we’re older and have been living together for two-three years.
Everything was doing okay. Everything was beautiful. We never fought, and if we did we’d immediately make up. We told eachother we loved eachother every day. Kissed goodbye every morning. Hung out and made food and played video games. He truly is my best friend, and who I believe is the love of my life. We were intimate, maybe not as much as he wanted but we were intimate. He struggles with ptsd, anxiety and depression, as well as I assume ADHD. He was abused very violently growing up by his step father, and was in foster care for most of his teen years. He is so kind and gentle.. we were discussing marriage, he brought up having children. It really felt idealistic. Sure we weren’t doing everything we wanted to do in life but we are young. He is so intertwined with me, and my family. The thought of being without him hurts me so much About 4-6 months ago I was looking on his Twitter and looked at his posts which were kind of suspicious. I also looked at his likes and saw him like pictures of one of his friends half naked. I confronted him about it and told him it made me uncomfortable when he did that and he apologized and said he wouldn’t do it. So I’ve been having Just a hunch for a while and been feeling jealous.
Two weeks ago he started to go out to the bar with his friends from high school. I thought nothing of it, I was actually happy because he’s sort of introverted. Then this last Friday he went out... and didn’t tell me when he was going to come home. He told me I was his whole world and sent hearts and told me he loved me... he said the bar was closing so they were going to bring the party over to his friends house
He ends up getting home after 2 in the morning. I’m upset with him and decide to go out for the day with my friend to just have some social time. I get home, tell him I’m upset about him not telling me what time he’s going to get home, and then for some reason I just have something inside me push me to say “I just want you to know, if you’re wanting to be with someone else or sleep with someone else just end it, because I can’t do that”. He seemed kind of shocked but hid it, and said “okay”. That hurt my feelings that he didn’t say “I would never”. I told him I wasn’t talking to anyone. He told me he wasn’t talking to anyone.
We take a nap, and I wake up and try to start to be intimate with him and turn him on.. he gets up and is uncomfortable and looks really sad. I ask him what’s going on. He starts to cry and tells me that he kissed and cuddled another girl. I’m shocked but calm for some reason. We talk it through and he says he didn’t know her and he didn’t plan on it happening it just happened. I told him I understand, I was upset that he did that and that’s not okay but I understand. He brought up feeling like he’s missing out on life.. or that the very fact he’s having doubts about us or that he feels attraction to other women means he doesn’t know if he truly can be with me, that he doesn’t deserve me. I reassure him that it’s okay to have doubts... and that we’ll get through this. We’ll go to therapy, we’ll figure it out. We go to bed. I wake up in the middle of the night and have a full on panic attack and loudly wail and cry. He holds me. The next morning I go to my sisters house because I need a break. She takes care of me I go home that night and we don’t talk about it more we just sleep.
I wake up the next morning and he confesses it wasn’t a hug and a kiss, it was sex. And also that he was buying content from only fans but tried to stop one time because he felt bad but then made another account. I’m shocked but at the same time I feel like I expected it. I’m hurt. But I tell him what I said before still stands. We can get help, he can delete the temptation out of his life or try to, we can work through this because I love him, or we can try to take a break from eachother, or we can just end it. I’m not sure what he wants in that moment. I want to be able to give him a break to experience what he thinks he’s missing out on because I love him and want the best for him and want him to be happy. He isn’t sure what he wants. He’s scared if he takes a break he’ll potentially lose me... as a friend or something. I understand why he wants to take a break. I understand that sex with someone else is a thrill and new and exciting. When we were younger I asked him if I could experiment with women since I felt I wasn’t able to explore my sexuality... and I did. And I feel like this hurt him really bad. and I regret it. But I understand where he’s coming from. Sorry for rambling.
The next night we talk, he lets me know the girl wasn’t actually someone he didn’t know, it was a girl he had a crush on in highschool. He told me he didn’t plan it it just happened. I ask him if he wore a condom, if she had covid, if he liked it, if she has STDs. No condom, not sure about covid or stds. He did like it but he felt bad.
I ask him that we need to figure out what we’re doing because I can’t be stuck in limbo like this. I know what I want, which is to work through this and salvage our relationship because I love him so dearly. He doesn’t know what he wants to do. He wants to see her and also stay with me. I tell him that’s not an option. I can’t do that. So I think we decided on a break. He’ll move out for a month and we won’t have contact and he can explore what he really wants and figure out who he is. It’s not an excuse but an explanation, that this year has been so weird and it’s okay to feel lost and not know what you’re doing with your life. I feel lost. I don’t want him to move out or leave me. We are best friends but I don’t think I could be just his friend it would be too painful. I am just waiting to see if he’s going to move out so we can start the break. All I want to do is hold him and love him... but I’m also so fucking angry.
What’s wrong with me? Am I not enough? Why are you choosing temporary dopamine over stability, love, comfort? Why is he thinking with his dick over his head? I’m sick. I can barely eat a few bites of something before I get disgusted. I’m disgusted. And hurt. And angry. But I love him. I’m so confused. Thank you for reading. There’s so much more to be said but I can’t type anymore.
submitted by throwaway_throwawayp to survivinginfidelity [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 00:53 LTHEDREAMER I (19F) have broken up with my FWB(20M) and I don’t know how to feel because he’s like my best friend.

Sorry in advance: it’s really long so if you could please bear with me, I’d appreciate it. So, we’ve been dating for 3 months and he broke it off with me because apparently I was asking too much about his ex when I saw their text messages. He was with her before we got together and he broke it off because he said she wasn’t there for him and he fell out in love with her. But he became FWB with her and told me he broke it off when we met. 2 months after we met, we started hitting it off and we dated. Things started to go a little south when I saw pictures of them and he looked really happy and I asked him does he still love her and he said no. So like two months later, while I was with him, I went through his Snap and saw that he still was texting her and like meeting her up at her house and even said “I love you”. I asked him what was that about. He’s like “ we’ve known each other for so long I can’t give her up like this and the reason why I said I love you to her was because I didn’t want her to feel bad when she told me first”. He told me his ex was crazy, that she had a child of him she aborted and he wanted to be here for her. I asked him why couldn’t he block her. He said that wasn’t how he does it and that he’s giving her a 30 day challenge thing so he could slowly distance from her so she doesn’t kill herself. Another thing is I’ve been stalking her online and she had pictures of them together and his name in her bio. However, she hid them and took his name off when I was with him but put it back again after she started to follow me. I was mad and asked why’d she do that. I told him about it. He was like I cannot tell her to delete them because it’s her phone. And I admit, I started to get paranoid. Like he would tell me he was somewhere and I was like are you sure you’re not with her.
So he broke up with me saying I was getting annoying and things may have moved too quickly because there wasn’t no trust. I loved him so much that I accepted his proposal of being FWB(Friends with Benefits). However I told him if he was having sex with other girls, I would break it off. It was cool. I had my feelings but I played it off. It was like we were in a relationship the way we were acting. Hanging out, spending hours on the phone, watching movies together and of course having sex. I was telling him everything about my life and he was kinda opening up with me too. But one thing was, I was scared to talk about his ex with him as I feel he was still talking to her. And when I asked, was he having sex with her he said no he wasn’t. And I was ok.
But today, things took a turn. When I was with him, I had this heavy weight on my chest thinking did he like me? Was I good enough? Let me be sexy so he’ll still sleep with me. But that’s beside the point. I went through his phone once again and what I saw made this weight heavier. He went to her house many times, even had dinner with her and I saw a video of them having sex and it looked like it was in July when we were still FWB. He was there when I saw the video and he said it’s because he re-saved it and that’s why it appeared recent with the date like what??? That didn’t make sense. And I asked did you still go to her house and he’s like oh no but in his chats he was like can I come over. He said the reason why he said that was after work, he would walk around with her because it’s too late and stuff. And that I could think whatever and if I don’t trust him maybe it’d be better to just be friends. And I agreed. Strangely, the weigh on my chest lifted. But now, I don’t know what to do. He’s my first and the first person I’m so close to. And I’m starting to think if I made a wise choice as if he looked like he liked me but maybe was scared of asking me out again. I don’t know what to do. Did I make the right choice?
submitted by LTHEDREAMER to relationship_advice [link] [comments]


2020.10.18 18:33 f4c3m3l73r My past is catching up to me and I couldn't be more horrified.

Today marks the 16 year anniversary of my father's death. No. Don't bother. He was a horrible man.
But I'll never forget that day. Ever.
I got a new phone today so none of my family has called or texted me since I got a new number. That's fine. I don't like dead weight anyway.
Your probably asking yourself "why does this guy hate his family so much?" Well.. When I was a boy (13 years old) my family was involved in a church group that seemed more like a cult than anything. I'll leave the name of the group out because I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be talking about it in the first place.
The community was on a secluded piece of land void of any type of civilization. There were six houses for families and a few other buildings for bible study etc. It was just us and our ways. After a while I started noticing things.
Strange, disturbing things.
I made a friend there and she was absolutely gorgeous. Her name was Andrea and we had a bit of a "puppy love" thing going on. We loved books! We loved to read! We would sneak out to the edge of the woods, bring a lantern and just read books. After an hour we would talk about what was happening in the books we were reading and really explore our imaginative sides together. It was great!
But I cant keep quiet anymore.
Once.. I got told to come to a bible study early and I was excited because Andrea was there in the mornings. I was usually the class after. As soon as I walked in the room Andrea was no where to be found. I went through the class with a sinking feeling in my chest. She was always in class. Always here. Where did she go?
After class I knocked on her families door and her mother answered.
"Hey Matthew how are you?" She said with bags under her eyes.
"I'm okay.. um.. Mrs. Williams? Where is Andrea?" I asked.
She looked at the ground for a moment and smiled.
"She has been sent to a better place. She was always so faithful to our Lord and the spoken word of God was heard by Father McComber! The ceremony was held here, but she's gone. Don't worry my child, you'll see her again. Soon."
I didn't pry anymore. I've never heard of these ceremonies, but I have my suspicions..
There are times in life where you find yourself unsure of what comes next. That's who I was when I was with this group. "Goth" kid, if you will. I believed in God and had my faith, but I always questioned it. They welcomed me with open arms, don't get me wrong.. but still.. I always wondered what came next.
It got to a point where I kept getting dirty looks from the members. Even my parents.
One night I was sleeping in my room and was awoken to my parents, Andrea's parents and our Pastor bounding my arms and legs to my bed and all in unison were uttering some strange chanting. They tried to perform an exorcism on me. It was actually brutal. The pastor had a whip and a small bottle of liquid. The pastor has a scar under his left eye and bright, piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a black robe and underneath was a typical outfit a pastor would have. Black and downright creepy.
The whip had one of those "sex toy" looks to it and he struck me over and over and over and over. The small bottle was filled with a clear liquid that wasn't holy water. It was most likely hydrochloric acid to give it the effect that I was being burned by holy water. I still have marks and bruises to this day. He didnt use too much, but still.. it burned worse than anything I've known.
At the time, you couldn't possibly understand what I felt in that moment.
It felt like absolute hell.
It's funny. You'd think a holy ground wouldn't make you feel that way.
My mother finally had enough of me crying and screaming in absolute agony. She untied the straps and tried to embrace me. I shoved her away and ran. I was still in my pajamas, but my adrenaline was off the charts. I ran all the way to the woods where I would read with Andrea and I kept running. Finally I tripped over something. It was hard and it made my bare foot bleed. I looked to the source and it was broken pieces of cement. That's when it all hit me like a freight train. Turning my head more and squinting my eyes in the dark I was surrounded by headstones.
The names on the headstones were some of the children that were here before and with me. I got up in a panic and tried to compose myself. Then I saw them. Two headstones side by side.
Andrea Williams and mine.
I looked behind me towards the community because I heard something. I could see bright orange lights moving to my position. It was them. Coming for me. To put me in a grave.
I grabbed a piece of cement as a weapon and hid behind a tree. I waited unsure of where to go and what to do. Just gripped that piece of headstone like it was the only thing in my life. In all honesty.. it was.
A single orange glow began approaching me and I kept one eye around the tree to see my father in the makeshift graveyard calling for me.
"Matthew! Get out here right now. I know you're out there!"
Heart palpitating at this point, I gripped the piece of cement until blood was drawn.
"Son. You're tainted. You cannot be here anymore. We are going to send you to paradise to have a talk with your maker. Only then will you be cleansed of your filth!"
I clenched my teeth. He was right there. Literally within ten feet. The glow of the fire was illuminating everything around me and it was only a matter of time before he found me and had me killed.
This is where everything began to make sense though. I knew WHAT I had to do. I waited just a moment longer and right as my father made it right by the tree I was hiding behind, his face was right there and I slammed the piece of cement into his face. Before the flame was dropped from his grip, he screamed and blood was everywhere. He was writhing on the floor and eventually he rolled into the fire accidentally.
I watched my father burn alive until there was nothing but a charred corpse. The fire began spreading and I ran into the woods and away from the growing flames. I had no more time to stand there and take in what I had just done.
Eventually I made it up some hills. It wasn't easy, but I ended up toward the road that meets the edge of the other side of the woods. Glancing behind me I took one look back and found smoke rising in the distance. There was an opening in the trees and I looked down at the community. All I could see was fire. I had a pretty clear view of the entire area. The fire was an intense show of power and right above it was something insane..
I know this is going to sound crazy, but I saw a silhouette of a skull with two great horns in the smoke above the fire. Purging everything in sight. I ran more and more until my legs gave out and was just laying on the side of the road like roadkill. Eventually.. I blacked out.
I woke up in a hospital and was interrogated by police.
Despite my injuries and burns linking to the hydrochloric acid traces in my wounds they believed every word I said, and the reason why is because they've been looking for our pastor. They also found the remains of that graveyard. Those poor kids.
Apparently, Father McComber went by a different identity. I told them the name I knew him by, but they had no records of that identity.
They claimed he was worshiping something straight from a black magic book and they claimed it was satanic. But I knew better.
I know satanism isn't really used for harming others. Sure I've heard of sacrifices, but with just about every religion theres always something stated that sacrifices have to be made.
I asked them if they found him there or if he was dead from the fire. They said they didn't recover a body. The fire burned everything.
My mom tried visiting me, but I told her to fuck off and that I never wanted to see her again. She cried, but I have no sympathy for someone who willingly would sacrifice their son to a quote unquote "God". She respected my wishes and left. I had visitors. Some friends from school and an ex girlfriend came to visit as well. An old middle school friend of mine and his family said they would adopt me and I could start a new life.
I wanted nothing to do with my family. None of them.
I'm extremely hopeful for my situation now. As I said, it's been 16 years. It's behind me now...
But something happened recently that made me write this.
Something terrible. I was walking home from hanging out at a friends house and it was about 7:30 p.m. so the sun was about to set. I was listening to music in my headphones when my phone began malfunctioning. The music stopped and all I heard was crickets and cars in the far distance. I looked at my phone and there was something off about it. It looked like a video was trying to play, but the pixels weren't forming anything clearly. After a moment I could see a hand.. then the hand clenched into a fist and pointed a finger to me then slowly shifted to my right as if the hand was pointing behind me.
I kept staring at this strange image and then my phone got extremely hot and I could see something form. It was a person with long, beautiful blonde hair. The face came into view and I gasped almost dropping my phone. It was her. Andrea. Telling me something from the other side.
I looked behind me and there he was. Blue eyes, scar under the eye. Father McComber. He looked exactly like he did the day he tried to have me killed. EXACTLY the same. In his black robes holding an old tome and a holy water bottle in the other hand.
He was smiling. Ear to ear.
I ran home faster than I did in those woods and locked myself in my room. I haven't slept in days. I'm so scared. What do I do?
The morning I decided to write this I had an unknown number call. I answered and it was Andrea.. her static and hoarse voice repeated the word over and over.
Run.
submitted by f4c3m3l73r to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.10.17 01:37 Efficient-Term303 I lost my virginity when I was twelve, I've been a slut ever since

I just needed to write down my whole story. Right now I'm 20f.
When I was twelve I went to this sleep away summer camp near a beach for two weeks. I've always loved the sea, and we were supposed to learn to surf. The camp was run by this 30 year old red-headed man. I'll call him R. He had four people working under him, one woman and three men.
When we arrived we were separated into cabin groups. I was put with a group of eight other twelve year old girls. We were assigned one of the men, E, to supervise us. Before we went to sleep he made all the girls kiss him goodnight. Then one of the other men, who isn't really part of the story, told us not to masturbate in our beds. I remember being really shocked and embarrassed.
When I woke up the next morning, I remember R, the leader of the camp, coming up to me. He put his hand on my stomach and his fingers reached all the way to my ribs. He asked me if I was hungry, and I don't remember what I said. I know I was a little scared. Over the next couple days, R always kept close eye on me.
I didn't finish my food at dinner, and he chastised me in front of the other girls for eating too little too slowly. A lot of the other girls were friends, and I was all by myself. The treatment I got from R made it so that none of them liked me. R also liked touching me. When the we were getting on the bus to go to the beach, he grabbed me and pinned me to the side of the bus and kissed me all over my face and mouth. At the beach, my swimsuit was pulled down a little bit by a wave. He grabbed me from the water, yelled at me, and pulled it up for me. He was really angry, and told me I was attracting negative attention.
Later that night, he came into the room when everybody was getting ready to sleep and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the other girls. Then, when E turned off the lights after kissing all of us, R climbed on top of me. I could feel his hips against mine and he grinded into me, touching my stomach my ribs and my nipples. His breath was loud and I remember not being able to move underneath his weight. Then he got up and left, and nobody reacted.
Nothing happened until we had a haunted house. He and the other men decorated the area we were staying and hid in the dark. We were supposed to walk through the house. I walked a little behind the other girls, who wouldn't talk to me, and then R approached me in the dark. He pulled me away into a dark room. He held me hard against the wall, kissed me, grunted. He didn't say anything, but he seemed angry. Then he opened my shorts and put his hand in my underpants and it was cold, and he shoved his fingerinside me and something ripped. I felt my body convulsing and getting wet, and I twitched and he got really angry, asking me why I did that and I had no words.
A different day everybody was calling home. He made me come into his office and use his phone to call my parents while he watched. Then, we packed up to go camping. When we went camping, R took me and three other girls up a mountain with him. One of the other girls was fat, and she got tired so R sent her back with the other girl. He then told me I was very strong to make it that far. Then, while we were walking, without a warning he angrily pushed me up against a big rock, and stuck his hands under my shirt and pinched my nipples. He told me I was behaving badly. He grabbed my arm and dragged me a little ways into this park of the trail with a wooden picnic table and he threw me against it. I didn't even say no or try to fight him, because he had touched me everywhere at that point. he pulled down my pants, rubbed my stomach. i stopped watching and closed my eyes and laid on the table and felt his body breathing and pushing on me and then he had sex with me and it hurt but not that much. It was my first time. H made a sound at the end, like a "hrrr hrrr." I don't remember walking down the mountain or what happened then.
When we got back from camping, he told the girls from my cabin that we were probably sore, so we were going to do massages. Me and the fat girl ended up together, because nobody wanted to be our partners. He made us take off our tops and lie down while the other girl went on top and gave a massage with massage oil, candles, and everything. He went around taking pictures of us. At one point he stopped and showed the girl how to massage me better and his hands pushed so hard near my spine that it hurt.
Then we called our parents again, me with his phone while he watched. Afterwards, another man came into the room, one of the three guys who worked for him. The other man grabbed my hand and kissed me over and over again all over my hand arm and chest while R watched. That's all I remember from that camp.
When my parents came to pick me up, R, walked me to the car. I was so scared he was going to make me kiss him in front of them, but he just put his hand on my back and said I was an excellent camper and a joy to have. My parents were really happy to see me and i fell asleep in the back of the car watching the sunlight blink through the trees and feeling so glad to be going home. I never thought about that camp again for three years. I didnt tell anybody until I was seventeen, and then it was all so confusing.
People think I'm really sweet and innocent but they have no idea how slutty I was as a teenager. Besides losing my virginity to an adult when I was so young,I flirted with teachers, I also sent nudes to adults I met on the internet when I was fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen. I sucked my boyfriend's dick at a public park more times than I can count. When I was eighteen and nineteen, I had relationship with a 58 year old man, and he would tell me to send him nudes and masturbate on video chat, which I did, because he would always say that I was traumatized and this would be healing, and also I was really horny. Later, in college, a guy beat me and raped me, but I know that my slutty behavior drove him to it. I ended up trying to kill myself over it.
Now I'm in a really good relationship, and doing really well. I was always smart, so I want to go to law school. But I'm haunted by my behavior as a child/teen. The fact that multiple men at that camp kissed me, and that I had sex with one of them is so humiliating. Not to mention the general sluttiness that came after. Even now, when I masturbate I mostly think about horrible things/taboo relationships with older men. I'm sexually broken and fucked up, and though I love my boyfriend more than anybody I've ever loved, I never enjoy sex as much as I enjoy masturbating to a sick fantasy.
Reddit that it is my confession. I know it was long, but that's all I have to say and the full story. I just needed to get it off my chest.
submitted by Efficient-Term303 to confessions [link] [comments]