sunny blizzard

I decide I would like to start dating again. I am shocked at myself, but glad. I ask everyone I know where they met their significant other. They almost all say 'online dating'. I think about it for a couple of months and give it a shot. Within two weeks I start emailing a really funny and interesting guy. A month or two later, we meet in person and I immediately feel comfortable with him. I am shocked at myself, but glad. We hit it off and spend all kinds of time together. I have new rules for myself and relationships. I believe they will serve me well. With Al, I really have nothing to worry about. And wow. He rocks my world. Hanging out is good. Talking is good. Learning about each other's interests is good. Sex is good. Holy crap, it can be good! I can actually feel desire for someone. I have the space and the respect to actually feel desire for someone!! I get to choose whether I want sex or not and what can be hotter than that?? It's amazing. Absolutely amazing. I...

I'm finally divorced. I hate men. I hate men. I hate men. For three years I avoid all contact with men. I hate them. I do not trust them. I do a lot of thinking and learning and growing. I get a great job but panic a bit at the thought of working with men. It turns out alright. Except for one guy who has a tendency to yell and swear on the phone sometimes (not to me, I overhear it), which freaks me the hell out. I learn that he's a decent guy and his yelling and swearing is about him, not me. I put on a good face and no one has a clue. Funny that. How many people do you interact with every day have that mask that hides everything. Everyone thinks everything is great and normal. There is so much hurt out there. I wish men could understand this. This. This is why so many women are 'careful', and 'hesitant'. We don't know which kind of guy you are.

I'm married. The counselor just does. not. get. it. Her solution for us is this: He has to try a little harder to be nice to me. I have to initiate sex a certain number of times per week. What. The. Hell.

I'm married. It's just rape. I fucking hate him. He forces me to fuck him. I grit my teeth and do the things that I know will get it over with sooner. He, in his arrogance, thinks I'm doing it for him. When I have the strength to resist, he screams at me for hours, literally 2,3,4 hours. I'm a bitch. Why can't I show him how much I love him? I'm selfish. I'm cold. I need to have sex with him to prove how much I love him. But I don't, I hate him. The kids can surely hear this. It's 2 am and they are in bed.

I'm married. I've given birth four weeks ago, by C-section. Major surgery. He insists we have sex, by this time I'm too afraid of him to say anything. It hurts. Doctors advise no sex for 6-8 weeks after giving birth. When I supply this information at a counseling session, he looks at me and asks why I didn't say anything.

I am married He starts yelling at me one day because he 'left me alone for one day and I didn't initiate sex'. He was testing me. What I had felt that day was "thank god he's leaving me alone."

I'm married. He fondles and gropes all day long. He is full of sexual innuendo. He wants sex all the time. I was never taught that I could say no, or how to say no. I find strange passive-aggressive ways to avoid it. I stay up really late, knowing that when I go to bed he'll want to have sex. Sometimes I enjoy it. Sometimes I endure it.