my-breakup-playlist

[my-breakup-playlist]

you do not have the privilege of treating me like a sex object if you have not first demonstrated that you do not see me as a sex object.

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You're not actually a better friend for not articulating and respecting your own needs, limits and boundaries. Your lack of communication and boundaries is not some impressive sacrifice. You're not doing anyone any favors by acting like you're okay with things you aren't okay with. You're just building burnout and resentment that will eventually damage the relationship in question. And when you eventually snap and walk away because you silently overburdened yourself to be a "good friend", it won't be the other persons fault

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Adult realization: you will make mistakes, you will act irrationally. You will commit some wrongs that cannot be fully righted. People will dislike you and misunderstand you for all sorts of reasons. None of these make you a bad person. All you can do is try your best to be kind and just to people, grow and learn.

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it’s totally normal and okay if the stages of grief overlap and you’re in more than one at a time

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Your takes on RSD are dogshit and you’re contributing to the stigma against people who actually experience it, do better

my "take" that it's a trauma reaction and you can learn to deal with it properly in relationships? what's wrong with saying that? I literally can't figure out how this statement could make someone upset...

[my-breakup-playlist]

I've mentioned before that I had to mark a calendar every time we had sex, because if I didn't then he'd start making loud dramatic sighs and start finding ways to incorporate time sent on the sexless marriage subreddit into all of our conversations.

I had to mark instances when I was out of town or working conventions on the same calendar, because when I didn't he would cite the gaps as evidence of emotional neglect.

There was no such thing as "no", just "not right now", with the understanding that it would happen tomorrow, or the next day.

There was a near constant arithmetic in the back of my head, trying to judge how capable I was of having sex on a given day vs how capable I would be tomorrow or the next day, or calculating whether sex was a better or worse way to spend the evening than helping him cope with the misery of not having it. Always there was the constant deadline looming over me: if it didn't happen at least twice per week, then I was being emotionally abusive.

Having boundaries was an act of profound cruelty, and one that demanded immediate apology and comfort in order to mitigate the harm I'd done.

In my attempts at dating since the divorce, I've noticed that my partner even dropping hints at wanting sex is one of the fastest ways of making me shut down and end our conversations. More than a few times I've wondered if I should just suck it up, match with whoever will have me and have sex until it's familiar enough not to trigger that flight/freeze response.

Which doesn't seem like a particularly effective or healthy solution to any of this.

And that's a bit fucked up, I think.

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"There is a whole pretense that goes on around these sort of toxic sexual exchanges. A man wants gratification at my expense, but he tries to convince me that he cares about me so I won’t bail. He sees that I am suffering, I know he sees that I am suffering, but if we talk about it he will pretend he didn’t know. He will keep up the pretense that I matter to him so I will not cut off his access to my body."

That bit really stood out to me-- and the part about a partner reacting to being flat out told that coerced sex was unwanted and painful by crying so you have to swallow your own feelings to comfort them.

“We talk a lot now about affirmative consent and whatnot, but unfortunately we can’t legislate the actual change that needs to be made. Men need to care when they are making women suffer.”

“The fact that it’s not unusual doesn’t mean it’s not wrong.“ 

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There's something very telling about the fact that every dream I have of my ex is a nightmare-- and one intense enough that I can't go back to sleep afterward and I'm fucked up for the rest of my day.

The thing is, they're always mundane dreams. I'm not being hurt or threatened or shouted at. But every single time, the overarching vibe is intense enough that it wakes me up in a cold sweat.

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This paints such a beautiful picture

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I’d divorce him too lmao

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by the way, quietly bottling your discomfort with someone and just hoping they'll "get the hint" until you can't take it anymore and then taking it to the nearest moderator isn't "setting a boundary" or "being victimized," it's actually called "being a huge piece of shit" and "expecting people to read your mind."

Sorry about your conflict aversion, but you actually need to tell people when they're making you uncomfortable. like, with explicit, clear, unmistakeable words that don't give you a safe cover of plausible deniability with which you can back out and "still be the good guy." It is kinder to let someone down face-to-face so they can hurt and move on knowing what went wrong than it is to lead someone on and then stab them in the fucking back, you know?

Also, I cannot stress this enough, it is not actually someone else's fault for making you uncomfortable when you literally make a point to lie to them about how much you like them by pretending you're enjoying their company more than you are. That's your fault. That's called making a bed to lie in. Maybe just desperately hoping someone who has already misinterpreted how close they are to you will just happen to pick up on the subtle signs of you desperately hiding your discomfort is, frankly, fucking stupid, and you need to get over yourself and say real words to them instead of getting some third party to punish them for your own inability to communicate.

Sorry this one isn't as nice as my other posts, but some of you need a wake-up slap. Stop fucking burning autistic people and trans women one-by-one because being a coward is easier than being a villain. It's not fucking nice, it's not cute, and the more I see it happen, the less forgivable it gets. Grow the fuck up and change in the scary but necessary ways.

Because it's kinder to tell someone when they're fucking up than it is to let them make the same mistakes in ignorance until you've secretly tallied enough transgressions to safely write them off as unforgivable, and thus disposable. Because I care about you, and everyone else, enough to give you a real chance to actually correct your harmful behaviors by being honest to you about the harm they cause. Because I believe people can make hurtful mistakes while still being genuine unintended mistakes, and that they can change.

Hint, hint.

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Three years.

Filed a lawsuit.

(It says someone that the anniversary slipped past me and I forgot to edit this in my queue. I'll actually add stuff later)

Three days ago, my relationship ended.

For the first day I waited for him to change his mind-- to calm down and take me back once he felt better.

Yesterday a friend came over to help me pack my things.

Last night I slept in my childhood bedroom.

I'm incredibly fortunate to have the support system that I do. That I have friends who would stand by me, who let me sob into their ear for hours, who bolstered me up so generously. That I have a good enough relationship with my family to move back in without notice or definite end point, that they have space and resources available to do so, that they live close enough that my daily commute has only doubled. That my relationship with my ex-partner is amicable enough that I can go back for the rest of my things without fear of violence.

I'm too aware of how lucky I am in that regard.

It still hurts.

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