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J.Lo has a bodybuilding doppelgänger who *gasp* is even buffer than Lopez herself. Janice Garay (aka Jay from Houston) is breaking the Internet one selfie at a time and we must say, the resemblance... This is a subreddit for images/gifs/videos of people who look or act like off-brand versions of celebrities or other well known characters. The posts can range from near-perfect look-alikes/doppelgangers/doubles through to terrible knock-off versions of the celebrities/characters, as long as there is some resemblance. we also allow actual photos of celebrities in walmarts. And let us know in the comments what popular celebrity your friends think you look like (for example, some of my pals think I look a bit like Keanu Reeves). Bored Panda interviewed ‘Same de la Same’s’ creator Freddy Slivinski to learn more about the community of celebrity doppelgangers. Make sure to scroll down for our full in-depth ... This is a subreddit for images/gifs/videos of people who look or act like off-brand versions of celebrities or other well known characters. The posts can range from near-perfect look-alikes/doppelgangers/doubles through to terrible knock-off versions of the celebrities/characters, as long as there is some resemblance. we also allow actual photos of celebrities in walmarts. Long answer is I remember a porn doppelganger subreddit from an askreddit question awhile ago. I'm not sure if this is the same one, but its a start. View entire discussion ( 1 comments) More posts from the findareddit community. 1.9k. Posted by 3 days ago. Found! The subreddit for off-brand celebrity doppelgangers This is a subreddit for images/gifs/videos of people who look or act like off-brand versions of celebrities or other well known characters. The posts can range from near-perfect look-alikes/doppelgangers/doubles through to terrible knock-off versions of the celebrities/characters, as long as there is some resemblance. 39 Celebrities and Their Vintage Doppelgängers Victoria Dawson Hoff, Charlotte Chilton 2/24/2020. SHARE. SHARE. TWEET. SHARE. EMAIL. Officials praise anti-crime initiative. Some in Kansas City ... Scrolller is an endless random gallery gathered from the most popular subreddits. Browse 6 213 pictures from r/doppelbangher on Reddit. Scrolller is an endless random gallery gathered from the most popular subreddits. Filter. gifs. pics. Reset. Subreddit info. Image overlay. Immersive slideshow. Autoplay videos. Auto scroll. History’s most mind-melting celebrity doppelgangers. September 10, 2019 . By Brian Parchmann. Getty Images/Sabastian de Morra. Let’s face it, there have been a whole lot of people who walked the earth before us, because time is a pretty old thing. When sifting through the unimaginable millions who came before us, we’re bound to come ... Famous doppelgangers: 18 celebrity pairs we have trouble telling apart "You" fans have noted actress Victoria Pedretti's resemblance to Hilary Duff. Get the latest from TODAY.

2019.03.19 01:27 gene100001 Porn picture mom

This is a subreddit for images/gifs/videos of people who look or act like off-brand versions of celebrities or other well known characters. The posts can range from near-perfect look-alikes/doppelgangers/doubles through to terrible knock-off versions of the celebrities/characters, as long as there is some resemblance. we also allow actual photos of celebrities in walmarts.

2012.01.26 03:15 lulzcakes Porn picture mom


2020.09.17 10:01 BnZAwkward_Lab5858 Porn picture mom

My best friend, J, and I have been friends for 25 years since we were little kids. When the lockdown started, he came to my condo and asked for some cash, which isn't a big deal as he always pays me back in a few weeks. My girlfriend, Z, and I, B, have been together for 14 years, and when the government said a lockdown was coming, we prepared for the worst. I went and bought food, water, and enough of everything else for a few months. My girlfriend bought lingerie, a few toys, etc.
Now there is some important information. Z is a trans female and still has her penis. J knows all about this and has seemed fine with her.
J came over, and we were talking about nothing special, and Z was doing coming in the back of the condo. When all of a sudden, she comes out of the bedroom in some very sexy lingerie and asks if I like it? Then she sees J, starts laughing and turns tail and runs back to the bedroom. I'm laughing and thinking no harm, no foul.
J then says something that infuriates me. He says I want to fuck her so bad, she is a whore.
I was shocked but pushed him very hard to the door and said to him he had better explain himself. He said, come on; they are all whores. I opened the door and threw him into the hallway and slammed the door.
Z came out a few minutes later, dressed, and asked what happened. I told her, but she never lets things like that get to her because of the bullies she dealt with until we started dating at 14. Amazing how bullies will never fight someone bigger and stronger than them.
She saw his phone on the table and picked it up, handing it to me. I have to admit I wanted to soak it in water or drive over it in my truck, but I am trying to not react to anger. I know his code, because he literally uses the same codes for everything. I unlocked his phone in 1234, and I see his wallpaper is porn. Not a biggy, it his cellphone. But I went through the phone to see what was there, and there were picture folders labelled BaileyJay, DaisyTaylor, and many more. Many of the folders we're of transgender women porn actresses and models.
For someone who believes they are all whores, it is a weird collection. Z told me to scroll down, and we saw a folder with her name. She grabbed the phone, opened it and saw tons of images of her at parties and other events. Nothing lewd, just stalking photos of parties we were all at.
I am livid; she is crying, and I start heading for the door, but she stops me. She wants me to forget about it because of the history, but I am not sure if I could forgive him. I called his mother, and she was shocked but admitted that he has been jealous for a while. My mom says forgive him is the Christian thing to do.
I'm not sure what to do. I only have a couple of friends, but losing him as one will hurt because he stood behind me when no one else did when I lost my cool and beat a bad guy pretty bad, who went after Z. Christians, don't forgive Mom, so why should I keeps going through my mind.
Not sure what to do. It has been months of me racking my brain on what to do. Any ideas? Advice?
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2020.09.17 09:25 Meda17Sep1l Mom picture porn

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2020.09.17 09:18 IdolA17Sep1l Inc-est Thre-eso-me Reddit Po-rn

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2020.09.16 20:38 CGorm18 Cheating Husband

Hi All,
I just recently found out my husband of a year has been cheating on me with escorts. Even while I was pregnant! How I found out is he let me use his computer one day and I came across a email. From a escort site named Tryst. All I seen where huge boobs in the picture so I clicked on it. He was asking her if she would be in the area soon, and she said he could fly her out for a small fee. I confronted him about it and he lied at first saying someone hacked his Facebook or that people are just jealous of me ?
He finally came clean when I responded that Facebook has nothing to do with his personal email account and a escort website. He messaged her the night after our daughter’s first birthday party. Which was a slap in the face. However, I started to dig deeper and come to find out he has been cheating on me the entire time even while I was pregnant. I ask him again and he denied it and then said whatever he did before our marriage doesn’t matter.
I also found out that he’s been talking to a ex and met her at the mall. He said for closure but she’s saying he was asking for sex and that he told her he didn’t want to marry me but did because I was pregnant. I ask him and he really didn’t deny it. He just said his ex is crazy and that his ex also said that I was fat and not his type. I’m wondering why he would even fix his mouth to tell me this. I ask him if he wants to be married and he keeps saying he does but I only believe he does for the image. Because he’s also a deacon at a church. He wants me to go meet with his pastor however his family is telling me that he’s taken previous women from other relationships to counseling seasons with his pastor for similar reasons. I ask my husband what’s the difference in talking with his pastor now ?
He said he wasn’t married then. I feel like he needs real therapy from a professional. His father mentioned maybe he might be a sex addict. I think he might be as well because I also found hard drives with thousands of videos and pictures of porn. And pictures of his ex girlfriend. And a sex tape of them. I also found that he has a only fans account some of which he pays for. And one of the girl’s is an escort from the same website he was browsing a few weeks ago. We do have a daughter and I’m just trying to do what’s best for her my gut is telling me he’s never going to change.
And by his reactions he doesn’t want to change. I ask about the only fans account and he said I want everything to happen immediately and for him to change immediately I told him I know it’s a process.
But he doesn’t seem like he wants to seek professional help only the help of his pastor who continues to excuse his behavior. Also his mom called me and told me to leave him alone because he has high blood pressure. I noticed he always plays the victim as well and his mom is there to cover for him. I’m just tired we are 10 years apart I’m 30yr he’s 40yr I just feel like I’m to young for this. And if he was going to change he would’ve already. I need advice should I stay and let him get the help he needs ? Or take my daughter and go ? I just feel so bad because I wanted her to grow up with both parents in the household. But I feel he ruined that. He’s also not affectionate, and when I ask why he says his previous relationships ruined him.
However, I’m finding out with his previous relationships he’s done the same thing. But he always blames the women saying they used him for his money. But he was a willing participant I’ve found out that he’s drained his 401k on his past relationships. However when I ask him for money you can tell it really bothers him. The money is usually for a bill or our daughter. I’m just tired mentally. I can’t trust him financially or physically.
This is also his 2nd marriage I don’t think he was married to his first wife long either. He comes off as a really nice guy but you soon find out the truth about him. And he’s incapable of telling the truth. However he hides behind the church and his job. He’s scheduled an appointment to meet with his pastor tomorrow for marriage counseling. However, I feel it’s a waste of time.
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2020.09.16 20:28 minnesota-nice- Mom porn picture

My libido was very meh while we had small children. We have 5 kids so the pregnancy/postpartum/breastfeeding years were more like decades for us. I did not say no that often, and I was willing to have sex, mostly, when he initiated. We had a lot of boring maintenance sex. Once a week, once every two weeks, something like that. I was able to reach orgasm about 1/3 of the time. Those were the mothering years. Honestly, that was the best I could do during those years. I was spread thin and tired. He understood the phase of life we were in, and was patient; he accepted maintenance sex and made sure it was enjoyable for both of us, and he bided his time.
(This same kind of "dulled libido" state in women who used to love sex can be caused by many things, including hormone balances, artificial birth control, antidepressants, medical sex issues oh my gosh there's an entire sub for that, anxiety, bad sex or bad relationships, pain yeah don't even go a step further until pain is fixed and the marriage goal becomes having types of sex that don't cause pain, inherent orientation like asexuality or lifelong low libido, a stressful exhausting career or household or general life, etc. etc. I'm going to address the "busy and her life revolves around the children" LL mother because that's where I was. It wasn't hormones for me ((breastfeeding and pregnancy caused a dulling to my libido but didn't kill it dead, the way it can for many women)), it was plain old being tired, thinking about the kids all the time, having a lot on my plate, and being mentally a mother 24/7.)
I often wished that I had more of a libido during those years. I thought it was innate, something about me, that once existed but had faded. I was told that this was normal for women. You age, sex fades. I knew and had internalized "sex is important to men" and to me, that meant going along with it every so often to keep everyone happy. I did not yet know the specific things I needed to do in order to nurture MY sexuality, in order to keep the flame burning in my own mind and body, and how to get my own juices flowing so that I wanted sex more. I did not yet know what I really loved and wanted in bed.
Did I wake up one day and spontaneously decide to unearth my sexuality? No. I did it for him. I wanted to repair that aspect of our marriage. So my initial motivation was because he was unhappy and gave me The Talk. On the other hand, after much reading and contemplation, I really did want that part of my life back again. I wanted to come out the other side of motherhood as an empty nester with a fun and fulfilling sex life, as a cherry on top of life's sundae.
The two major factors in our success were: 1) I genuinely wanted to have an awesome sex life again, and 2) he was never resentful.
I'm an ALL IN kind of parent. Babywearing, breastfeeding, cosleeping; mothering is my jam and my happiest place. My husband rolled with a big-family life and was sexually encouraging, over the years, without pressure. He bought me toys, he bought us books, he talked about articles, he kept trying new things. They were all presented with no pressure, no expectations, and he was open about it. His focus was not on getting his own specific sexual needs or kinks met, it was on finding out how to nurture mine. (He knew that once my fire was lit, the rest would follow.) As I got more sleep and as the children started growing up, I responded gradually, more and more. My motivation to WANT to want to, came because of The Talk. How it ended up happening, though, was slowly, over time, as we worked on it together.
Speaking as a (situationally, not inherently) lower-libido spouse, hearing "The Talk" worked for me -- the second time.
The first time he brought it up seriously, our fourth child was just starting to walk so probably around 12 months, still not eating solids like any of my babies so nursing AROUND THE CLOCK, and he expressed that our sex life had been sleeping/on ice for the past 10 years, and he was unhappy. I heard him, but honestly there wasn't much more I could change, at that point in our lives. I was homeschooling three very young children and breastfeeding the baby. I said yes to tired sex when he initiated, and that was honestly the best I could give, at that point in our lives. So that was the first time.
He was smart. He bided his time, accepted what I was able to offer without resentment, and waited. When our last child was maybe five-ish years old, he initiated the second Talk (which turned into an ongoing two-year process of discussion and conversation). This time, I heard him, took it seriously, AND was in a position to change my lifestyle in order to rediscover my sexuality. Yes, I was homeschooling/mothering five children, yes I was still exhausted, but the physical limitations of being constantly nursing/babywearing/touched/climbed-on was over. Once everybody's potty trained, you can lock yourself in your bedroom for an hour and the world won't end. I was able to take some time, think about the situation deeply (a couple of months), and then come to him with my ideas, wishes, and needs.
Child-free time -- an hour a day to start. Private time to think about sex. I started by reading sex books. Listening to sex podcasts. Reading sex-reddit in my idle time. From there, I branched out into doing things that made me feel sexy. Using my sex toys (yes, in the middle of the afternoon locked into my bedroom! As a prairie homeschooling mama, this felt VERY STRANGE AND LUXURIOUS AND VAIN AND INDULGENT at first). Reading fluffy romance novels, which ended up being my zing kickstarter -- I first tried porn (ugh nope) and erotica (most of it is badly written and gauche), so the genre of genteel Regency bodice-rippers ended up getting me the most genuinely hot, and left me putting the kindle down and longing to throw myself into his arms. Taking care of myself. Gym time, starting on the weekends. Spending money on skincare and massage and fitness and me. Date nights! Fancy restaurant dates and the anticipation of getting ready for those. Hotel overnights -- those are HUGE for a stay at home mom. When your workspace is your home, you're always having sex at the office! Hotel bedrooms are, like, this amazing mini vacation from inhibitions and that Mom-on-call mentality. Taking the household low-carb, and getting back to my college weight. Taking the time in the evenings (and ignoring the voice saying, oh you're too fussy, oh you're too fastidious, sex is messy, you're such a prude, blah blah blah) to make myself comfortable for sex and not self-conscious (i.e. taking the time for a bath or shower at night if I wanted to, shaving the bits I know he likes bare, feeing fresh and pretty, learning that if I put a towel down underneath us before oral sex I stop worrying about another damn load of laundry on my to do list -- if I do those quick "fastidious" things, I am able to let go of my worries, become mindful, and be uninhibited during sex).
More detail on what "sexual self-care means to me" (sorry if this is redundant, I'm copying from various comments I've left):
I deliberately made space in my life for sex. I had to CARVE IT OUT, because kids will fill up available space with their needs like it's a vacuum. For me, that starts with reminding myself to dedicate time to sexuality every day. That comes in many forms. The most basic is reading sex books, romance novels, and erotica. I browse this subreddit and the sex over 30 subs as well, at random phone scrolling times during the rest of the day. It keeps sex in my mind. More involved are the rituals I have that make me want sex, before I intend to initiate. This needs time without the kids climbing on me, so my husband needs to be on board to make this happen. Bath, shaving, dressing up in things that make me feel sexy, massage, relaxation therapy, reading, fantasizing to get my juices flowing... those are some things that work for me.
You can start by literally setting a timer on your phone every day. Take a break, do some meditation or yoga, and spend 20 to 30 minutes nurturing your sexuality. In whatever form that takes. Only you can know what works, and only by experimenting. Romance novels give me that sweet longing feeling, which is a huge part of the motivation for sex. Some women like porn. Some women like self help reading. An OMGYes subscription is a great idea if you don't know what you like or you don't orgasm reliably. Some like fantasies. Some like self touching. I super recommend a Womanizer vibrator. For me, orgasms make me want more orgasms, so the more often I can spend time with my vibrator, the more it makes me want sex. I also have an Elvie device which is a great investment for anyone who's given birth; it takes 2 minutes a day and is way more effective than generic kegel exercises.
My ideal routine consists of 1 hour per day (which again, I need to arrange to get without my kids beating down my door, fighting with each other, breaking a glass, stubbing toes or skinning knees and needing a boo-boo kiss, stepping in cat puke, you get the picture) to think about sex. It is a large investment of time and effort into my sexual life. If I don't put the energy in, sex quietly drops off my radar. It is way too easy to simply... forget about it. I could very easily let myself slide into being a Mom all the time, and feeling basically asexual-ish.
But when I am able to get the alone time, the self care space, to dedicate to my sexuality, I get to bring my inner sex kitten out to play. I love her. She is fun.
Then on days when I initiate, I love to take 2-3 hours in the evenings before our sex sessions, to do my pre-sex ritual. This means enjoying a bath, shaving and grooming, reading something sexy to get my mind in the right attitude, getting dressed up for him (either fancy underwear and a flirty dress, if we're going out on a date, or else some nice lingerie if it's just a bedroom date), consciously spending some time letting go of Mom Mode and remembering that I am a sexual girl who deserves horniness and sex. I need that time without doing baths and bedtimes and having my kids crawling all over me.
My husband needs to step up for this to happen. They're his kids too. If he gives me the space, my sex kitten comes out to romp with him later. It's a win win. BUT. It takes both of us in agreement to make it happen.
So, that's my story. The Talk made a deep impression on me, and I wanted to fix things. It was a process and took time. I often say that it's like a part-time job, keeping my sexuality alive, keeping that flicker of a flame going, like a pilot light. The daily life of a busy mom makes it too easy for that pilot light to get blown out, every single day. It takes daily nurturing and kindling. I have to pay attention to my own sex drive. Sexual self-care. But it has been worth it.
> May I ask what he said in The Talk? I think the phrasing often makes all the difference.
Oh gosh, that's a good question and I wish I remembered better. I remember the sentence, as we sat together outside on the porch, "I'm not happy." That one resonated in my heart. That was the first talk.
The second one was an extended discussion, taking place over text message and via heartfelt emails to each other and in person as we bubbled in a hot tub together, and lying in each others' arms in bed. It was a long developing conversation. He never let himself build up resentment, that's what I remember most of all. He did say that being rejected (which I tried not to do too often) felt like being burned by a hot stove, and it made him not want to touch the stove the next time. I understood that and I redoubled my resolve not to reject (again, we never dealt with "sex aversion" where the sex felt bad to me, which is a whole 'nother complication that needs to be overcome). But mostly he was gentle, accepting, and it was all forward-looking.
No backwards berating or past pain. It was mostly what we could do in the future. How could we improve the sex? What WERE our needs, after 20 years -- who had we become, who had we evolved into, and how could we steer in the same direction? Then I had to ask myself what I could work on. What did I need, to make sex fun for me again? What would make me crave new, interesting sex? What could he do for me? The first step there was tackling my brakes. (Kids, schooling, the massive physical and emotional labor of being a wife and stay at home mother in a busy household, our modern lifestyle, everybody's schedules, the house, garden, pets, yadda yadda all moms have the same brakes, you know the litany.) Brakes are only half of the picture, of course. Then accelerators. The responsibility for discovering my own accelerators was on me. That was my job. And I accepted it, and I did the work.
Now that I've typed that out, I think that's my takeaway. It's not about your past pain. It's about, we love each other, we desire to make our marriage better, we want to move in the same direction, so what do we both need? What can we change going forward? What would make things better? What do I need, what do you need? Look forward, not back.
At this point, what works for me is a "soft schedule." It's only in my own mind (we do not have a stated frequency goal at this point in our marriage, nor do we "hard schedule" in any other sense than (pre-quarantine), we had a standing Saturday night restaurant date which would almost always lead to sex that night). By soft scheduling, I mean that it's only in my mind, not discussed or marked on the calendar. There are no set days or anything, I just keep an eye on how we're doing generally. I use a fertility tracker, so I can see at a glance what our sex frequency looks like each week. If I get to Friday and there hasn't been any sex for the whole week, I stop and check in with myself and ask what is going on. Was it a particularly stressful busy week with the kids? And if so, what can I do to stop that from happening again? What needs to change in my lifestyle? Or, did I forget to make time for myself and my sexuality, to dedicate the time that I need to encourage my sex drive to stay alive, the things I need to nurture my sexuality? That kind of checking in. It's a habit at this point, a relaxed level of vigilance to make sure our sex life isn't being benignly neglected.

In a way, this is the introvert's version of the famous "success story by the husband" NMMNG approach -- -- in that I worked on me. Now that it's a habit, it feels like it's easier to keep it spinning all the time. I still read romance novels every afternoon! Our frequency has been holding steady now for a few years, back to dating levels (2-3 times a week), and I feel like our lifestyle patterns are ingrained enough now (the habits are grooved in now), that I think I can consider us Officially Recovered. I still read this sub, and it still keeps me vigilant.
submitted by minnesota-nice- to DeadBedrooms [link] [comments]

2020.09.16 15:05 vmarie713 Porn picture mom

So it's about to be two years since my boyfriend and I have been together.
I'm going to start from the beginning.
We went to middle school together, but we never talked mostly because he would irritate me he was the "class clown" and i was the quiet girl who constantly moved schools. So I didn't even bother getting to know much people. Fast forward we reconnected in February 2019, I wasn't looking for a relationship tbh, but I was interested in him. I wanted to get to know him more then he was persistent in making me his girlfriend. Everything was good in the beginning, then May came, and he had to leave for work, I told him I would wait for him ( he was working states away ). He was gone for 4 months, during those 4 months he was gone, he accused me of things I never even thought of doing in my life. He accused me of porn videos but the thing is in those videos the girl never showed her face, and the girl was much more lighter in skin tone then I am, and she had moles and I don't even have any moles. He accused me for months while he was away, for those months i'm crying trying to prove it's not me. One day during those 4 months I finally gave up trying to prove myself and stopped answering his calls, what happens next? he blows up my phone saying he doesn't want to lose me, he's scared, etc. I'm over here confused as to if he doesn't want to lose me why would he accuse me of things I never did and not even have "solid" proof? I know he has trust issues, and I'm a firm believer of if you love someone you do anything you can to make things work. He would call me all the time even when I'm working, out in the grocery store to get groceries or even if i'm with friends just to see where i'm at and who i'm with, not just a regular phone call, he would face time me to make sure, making sure i show him all my surroundings. (He still does it till this day) Fast forward he comes back towards the end of August from work, I pick him up from the airport and I'm so excited to see him, it's 1 in the morning. Everything seems fine again since we're not long distance anymore but that doesn't last for long. We started having issues again because of religion, I was raised from a strong catholic family while he is Christian, He wanted to leave me again just because I'm catholic and in his eyes and as he always says "The christian way is only the right way, Catholics are evil, all Christians are going to heaven so I need someone to go to heaven with me when I die and you aren't christian. " exactly what he said. I cried my eyes out that day, we made up and everything at the end of the day... then he started accusing me of talking to random guys that I don't even talk to. I've literally cut off everyone I don't talk to any of my friends anymore at this point. He's the only one I'm talking to. Then one morning I'm giving him a massage cause he gets grumpy if I don't give him a massage and while i'm giving him a massage I decide to go check his phone, while I checked it I found messages of him trying to talk to MULTIPLE girls. My heart breaks. I pack my shit and try to leave and he tells me what's wrong so I tell him. and he just stayed quiet and tried to get me to stay, I'm here crying my eyes out wondering why i'm not good enough.. I take him back and give him another chance. Then October came and its Halloween, we're out trick or treating with my then 4 year old at the time when a few days later I found out I was pregnant. I always told myself next time I have a child I will do anything to make that work, I will do anything for my kids to live in a 2 parent household where mommy and daddy love each other without no limits and unconditionally. He started getting abusive, started grabbing and pulling my hair when I tried leaving because I couldn't take it anymore, I cried my eyes out all the time, one time the fight was so bad he was accusing me of something I didn't do again.. there was a picture on tinder of a girl not showing her face again and she's wearing a purple shirt and same shorts i wear when I sleep and he claimed it was me.. he busted my lip and left a small bruise on my cheek, I couldn't eat for weeks and his mom came to the fight and then told me to go. Later on his mother is messaging me asking me "why are you provoking my son? why did you make him do that to you?" That threw me off so much.. later on that day his mom messaged me asking me to come over so we can all talk about the situation. We talked, worked things out again. Then i began "living" with him, I would come home to him every night after work. With all the accusations he had of me I started questioning him and he hated it, he had a close friend whom was a girl and she had a boyfriend, she would always call him late hours at night so It had me wondering why is she like that when I can't even have my best friend around like that anymore? One time she came and picked him up while we were fighting. That just made me think all kinds of things, he started spending the nights there claiming he was sleeping on the floor in her living room while her boyfriend and her slept in the bedroom. I'm about 3 months pregnant by now. Eventually we started living together, my 5 year old started calling him daddy. Everything was fine for a while..until the last 3 months of my pregnancy he was never home, he was always using my car and wouldn't be home for fucking days and nights. I dealt with it myself.. he would still be abusive and push me around while I was pregnant.. the day before I went into labor, we were in a big argument. Fast forward I gave birth, after i gave birth he started doing the same, never being home. In his eyes I was always the problem. I'm "childish" for feeling this way, I'm "childish" for not letting this go. I then helped him and gave him money to get his own car so he can work, and then I talked to my aunt who has a lot of connections in the city to get him a good paying job, which she did. I spent money I didn't even have for him. It was all in my savings, he always took money out my savings, claiming its our money but he never put anything in there.. I bought him his fathers day gun which was about 600$, I never spent a fucking dime on myself. Afterwards things weren't going good, I cried my ass out the last time he wanted to leave me, because of another accusation. That wasn't even me again. I've been nothing but loyal to this man I wonder why he treats me like this and calls me childish saying I need to grow up. We're only a year apart! We moved into his moms because things were getting hard, and things were going okay until we started fighting again. I got mad cause he never helps me with the kids. I work, come home, clean, take care of the kids, and go to sleep. He works and goes home to sleep. Every argument he called his mother, she would come in and tell me "why are you bothering him? he needs to sleep!" "A womans job is to clean, cook, take care of the kids while the man provides" I understand that part but if we're both working I'd want him to help me watch them especially our newborn.. His mother then told me " A man ONLY helps when he wants to. other then that you have to take over" I didn't make my baby myself and I strongly disagreed with that, she wants me to open up to her but how can I? Our last fight I was crying my eyes out again, because I'm so mad that I'm doing all the work, i'm the only one saving money. His mother came in and told me "You need psychological help, you're always fighting with him.. You always want what you want." and he punched me in the stomach so hard I had to scream.. That day he made me apologize to him mom for acting the way I did. I honestly don't even know what I did. Then just yesterday I couldn't stop crying cause he said he wanted to leave me because he thinks i'm talking to other people. I literally don't talk to my own friends anymore. Barely even my own family. He told me I need god in my life, and that I need to change and stop being so childish.. And told me I need to do better and that it better not happen again.. I cried all night while my 3 month old and my now 5 year old slept. I was debating on leaving, but It breaks my heart that my 5year old calls him daddy now. He doesn't even see that he's wrong.. Im at work typing this and i dont' know what to do.. I feel so hurt like there's a hole in my heart. I told him i'm gonna do counseling so I can get better for him.

thanks for having the time to read this. please I just need some advice.
submitted by vmarie713 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]

2020.09.15 22:54 throwaway192132134 I ruined a 10 year relationship 9 years ago and ever since, I have done nothing but hurt the person I thought I loved. We just broke up and after looking back at our relationship, I hate myself for being such a piece of shit.

10 years ago I met someone who changed my life. It was my first real relationship and it felt good to spend time with someone who wanted to team up and "beat the world," and all that cute and romantic cheesy shit. Our first date was 19 hours long and every second of it was amazing. All of our friends from both sides loved us and thought we were perfect for each other. We felt the same way. She liked me because I had this air of openness and freedom much akin to being a hippy - I loved everyone because the universe was a fantastic place to be and every human in the universe, and their experiences, was an important piece of life. I was honest and open with her, was interested in everything that she was and would be, and according to her, confident. I loved her because she had her own interests that she was willing to share, she was thoughtful and caring, funny, beautiful, and interested in spending time with me. We fit well together, at least on those metrics.
I was also addicted to porn. At that point, I had been addicted for years because that was "all I thought I could get." I had a couple of short online relationships as well as some cringe attempts at starting relationships in real life so I was pretty discouraged. Porn was a crutch to get through not having any luck. It was a complete secret, of course, as I was good at hiding it after having to deal with roommates for years. By the time I had met my girlfriend I had remade myself to be a lot happier but the crutch of pornography was still there. I had the best of both worlds - someone who wanted to have sex with me and others who wanted to perform sexual acts for my personal gratification whenever and however I chose.
A year into the relationship, I exposed myself in public multiple times and eventually was caught and arrested. I immediately admitted guilt to the charge and went to trial and sat in absolute misery as I felt I had to pay for all of the other times I committed the act as well. I felt I had to throw my life away, or at least not allow my life to be worth anything because, how could it be? I listened to some people who saw the docket for the court session that day talking about my case while I was sitting right next to them. I let them blindly shame me. I sat in loathful silence and drank up every word of seething hatred and disgust for "that creep that preyed on people" because I wanted to hurt that much more. I wanted to pay for all of it at once. I was nearly suicidal but chose to endure everything because self-flagellation by emotionally beating myself into the ground and saying I didn't deserve anything felt like a just punishment for the way I acted towards my victims, my friends and family, and towards the person I loved. I felt I had disappointed everyone I knew even though they weren't aware - hundreds of people who still call me friend to this day do not know what I did, and I hate that at any point they could disown me. Despite coming to pick me up from jail from the initial arrest and after learning of the charge, my girlfriend continued to be there for me. She accepted that I had done something wrong and said that she forgave me because I had to deal with a problem, that she would support me, and that it would be okay. She gave me every bit of support that she could, but I never told her what really happened until years later. Sidenote: I also lied to my parents. I told them it was a fluke and it was a weird situation that got out of control. I couldn't admit guilt to anyone that hadn't already found out, and I was deathly afraid of revealing how truly awful of a human being I thought I was. I was crippled with fear of anyone finding out.
During that time of crippling fear and hatred for myself, I was looking for sexual validation. I couldn't trust my girlfriend's empathy because she loved me. Her opinion and feelings mattered, sure, but it was tainted by her wish to care for me. After being arrested I still poked around on sites like ChatRoulette and crept on people there; some that were interested and some that weren't. I wanted to feel the same sexual attraction and rush that I had before being caught because I couldn't handle a sexual attraction from someone who I had disappointed. I stopped this after a few months, but sexual interest in my partner didn't grow back. I escaped to porn again. We would have sex every once and a while but it was closer to once a month at best. Porn was every day.
A couple of years later, her father passed away. I became her support while she was crippled with her own feelings of depression that lasted more than a year. At this point, even if I was interested in sexual stuff with her, this was not the time. My addiction to porn became stronger because it helped me through a time period in which my girlfriend was emotionally distant.
As time went on and we moved in together and got engaged, the sex dropped off to zero. I guess my justification is that after two years of being engaged, no plans for the wedding had been started and as the joke goes sex is less likely when married anyway. There was always an excuse as to why she never started planning the wedding that she opted to be in charge of planning - where do you even start? should we hire a planner, but they cost too much? I joked with her about it, offered to help, gave some advice, but it never changed. I guess I was turned off by her lack of motivation and of course, turned towards easy access to millions of videos and pictures of willing participants on the internet whenever I wanted sexual gratification. I was getting married regardless of the amount of sexy we were having. More importantly, though, I had gained a significant amount of weight and was less active. I was focusing more on playing video games and eating bad food rather than caring about myself and our relationship. Attempts at sex were made but it didn't feel as good as masturbation could ever feel. I wasn't in shape to perform at all and in one situation I had pulled almost pulled muscle and had to stop. Performance anxiety took over and added to the still crippling (but not as strong) fear that I had disappointed her enough in our relationship. As a result, it was easier to avoid more disappointment by never approaching an opportunity.
At no point did we ever discuss our wants or needs about anything. Not once did I tell her how I felt, nor did she tell me how she felt, but the reality at this point was that we were closer to roommates than romantics. She at one point brought up different love languages and we spoke about it - I was very physical (but not intimate) and she found love based on acts of service. This became a statement of our differences as we neared the bitter end of our time together. If you aren't familiar, read up here:
Earlier this year we had a discussion with more detail about everything - the arrest that happened at the beginning of our relationship came up, our lack of intimacy, and the lack of desire to change. The pandemic had already hit in some ways so my stress levels were off the charts. She had already lost her job and was sitting at home alone for 8-10 hours a day only for me to come home and ignore her. I was complacent and wanted nothing more than to unwind after a stressful day at work instead of doing something like caring for the other person that I lived with. She would fall asleep and then I would stay up hours longer, sometimes not coming to bed until morning just to catch a quick nap. Sometimes I would fall asleep and she would stay up on the couch instead of coming to bed. We were on our own schedules that never lined up. We talked, we ate dinner, we watched shows together, played video games on occasion, talked about the news, but that was it. We were roommates.
This past week, we finally broke up. Initially, it was a soft "hey I need some space so I can figure things out and get some therapy, etc." She even mentioned couples therapy, so I had the hope that maybe we could work things out together. She went to her mom's place to spend a couple of days with her family and think things through. I told her "if you have to leave me to be happy I understand, your happiness is everything." I do care for her, but the reality is, I've spent the last week feeling suicidal, messaging her and apologizing for everything and pleading with her if there was a chance to get back together at some point in the future - unless my arrest and my lack of action were too much to bear. She asked me why I loved her and my answer was what I felt to be true. I asked her the same question. Her answer, in comparison, made me feel like mine was so shallow and empty and it made me feel like shit - like I never knew her in the first place. I felt like I had dishonored her by being nothing but a shallow person who just wanted a companion instead of being in a relationship with someone I loved for who they were. The breakup became final and she was going to start collecting her things. In between bouts of crying and punching myself in the head out of self-hating rage for being such a failure, I told her that when she comes to get her stuff, I did not want to be there.
In the middle of the night, I packed up all of her stuff because of a frantic grieving episode. She initially wanted to meet and to talk in person while packing things but after I had mentioned that I had packed up her things, she felt I was being passive-aggressive and that I resented her for her decision to leave me. She asked that I not be present when she was packing as she didn't want to deal with me while her family was helping. I apologized and said that the reason I did it was not to be passive-aggressive, but I just needed something to do so that I would stop hating the truth that I had been a failure. I had not even thought about it being passive-aggressive, I was just dealing with the feeling of 9 years of inadequacy and disappointment all at once.
As of today, some of the items have been taken - some items I was not expecting, and others that I was hoping would be gone. Every time I look at the remaining pile of items I have a dreadful feeling of immense sadness and disappointment in myself for failing to act in a way that was meaningful towards the person I thought I loved. I hate looking at what is going away, what I am losing in my life. I hate that it feels like a huge part of me is dying, and I wonder if it's losing the woman I loved or if it's the thought of losing a nameless companion that made me feel not alone. Many shelves are empty, bookcases are empty, the computer I had built for her is now turned off and the desk is no longer covered with her little knick-knacks. The house is silent unless I make a noise, and the only noises I am making right now are noises of grief and sorrow. Everywhere I look I get this paralyzing feeling of loss and the need to punish myself for failing to be better to her.
The lease on our apartment was only achievable because she was present when signing it, otherwise, my criminal record would not allow me to live in the apartment we are in. For the first time in my life, I now have to make a budget to see if I am going to be forced out of my living arrangement and have to deal with the fallout of being rejected in just finding a place to live. It may even be the case that when I renew the lease without her that I am no longer allowed to stay anyway. The paralyzing fear of what I was afraid of years ago is coming back: What if I lose my job? What if I lose my home? I have no family in the area so who can I count on to help? I've shaken off so many friends over the years simply because we lost touch as I found new friends that were mutual to myself and my girlfriend. Who is left? Or am I already alone? This anxiety pales in comparison to my victim's fear of my actions so many years ago, but my contrition comes through feeling as they did - confusion and loneliness.
Last night I laid down and scrolled back through my Facebook messenger app because I wanted to see how my attitudes had changed over the years, to see who I had talked to and what friends I had been subconsciously ignoring. What I found and focused on, however, were a couple of chats between me and other women that I feel were not entirely platonic. Nothing that turned too serious, and there were only a few (3), but looking back to nearly a decade ago while I was in a relationship with someone I should have been paying attention to, they look inappropriate. I feel I can justify most of the conversations through the lens of my hippy-esque attitude at the time, but it doesn't make it right. All of those types of conversations started before the arrest and definitely stopped around the same time that I stopped seeking sexual and emotional validation from strangers on the internet, but the conversations were inappropriate in the sense that I used to have a crush on one of the women. In our conversation, I was actively trying to hang out with her before she moved. Not once did I mention my girlfriend. I cannot remember if I mentioned her when we were talking in person but the remainder of the message logs just talk about them moving away and me being glad to see them one last time before they went. Maybe it was platonic, but since all of my thoughts are pushed towards punishing myself for being a disappointment, maybe it was me shifting my emotional interests away from my significant other. All I know is that these conversations cover about a 6 month period from before to after the arrest. Looking back on this makes me feel horrified that I dishonored the one I thought I loved by being emotionally unfaithful. There was a large gap of no odd conversations or wrongdoing, but years later I attended a trade show conference where I connected with someone. I specifically didn't mention my girlfriend to this person either until the end of the conference. We didn't do anything physical - we just spent time at a couple of bars and with other people, but we also talked alone a couple of times. We talked about life and feelings and interests, but we also flirted. I could sense their interest in me and I let it play out a little bit because it made me feel wanted. I eventually said that I had a girlfriend because I started to feel guilty as the situation did start to get serious, but the feeling of being wanted by a new person was an incredibly empowering feeling: "I am wanted by someone who has no way of knowing that I flashed people in the past, and if I said yes right now I could go back to their hotel and have sex with them." I kept in touch with that person for a short while after the trade show but then we broke off contact, which was the right thing to do... but the infidelity was already there. I went home to my then-fiancee and did nothing to make her feel as wanted as a complete stranger had made me feel. I never told her because of how ashamed I am of it.
So, 9 years ago I ruined my 10 year-long relationship. In a sudden tidal wave of depression and panic she left me because for years, we never talked about our intimacy problems, about my secret fidelity issues, and about my addiction issues. I didn't want to talk about them. I wanted to have a normal, happy relationship with all the white picket fence bullshit. Even now we are talking, and we deeply care for each other, but I wonder if I'm doing it out of self-preservation in hopes that I magically end up in a relationship that I can be complacent in again, or If I am doing it out of love and affection for an actual person that I want to succeed in life. I can't tell the difference because right now it is more important for me to punish myself for my failings and disappointments. I have lost 15 pounds in the past week because I have pretty much stopped eating except what I can down just out of necessity. I delight in the sense that I am wasting away. I have cried now more than any other time in my life and I deserve to be sad and alone. I ruined the majority of someone's early adult life by being a selfish, loveless, creep.
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2020.09.15 14:31 n0thric Finding My Soulmate - Part 4

Here is part four of my story. The story is 100% true - the only things that have been changed are the names. This part was difficult to write. I tried my best to condense a large amount of time in to a few pages without it feeling rushed. I'm only posting the remaining parts of the story here on my profile because it doesn't seem fitting to put them anywhere else. Messages & chats are welcome and encouraged. Henry | Thomas
Previous parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
“I’ll call you back in a bit. I can’t talk right now.” I heard a flurry of activity in the background. And with that, she was gone. I sat there for a moment. My body was numb. I kept looking around the room trying to figure out if this was all just some fucked up dream.
My body was on autopilot when I picked up the phone. I dialed Thomas.
“Hey, what’s up?” he answered excitedly.
“He’s dead. Henry is dead.” I sobbed.
The other end of the line was silent for a few long moments. “Come pick me up.”
I climbed out of bed, threw on some clothes and jumped in the car. I don’t even remember driving there but I arrived at Thomas’ house. He ran out and jumped in my car. “Drive somewhere.” He could tell by the look on my face that this wasn’t just some fucked up joke.
I pulled out and drove toward a nearby park.
“I don’t know yet.”
We drove in silence the rest of the way. I parked and we got out of the car and walked over to a nice sunny spot and sat down. “So now what?” Thomas asked.
“I mean, I’m thinking of going to join him to be honest.” I admitted.
“If you’re going to be with him, I’m going too.” he said flatly. It wasn’t a threat to make me back out. He was simply ready to follow me if that was what I decided.
We sat in silence for what seemed like ages. He finally asked, “What will happen to his mom if we kill ourselves?”
I thought about it for a bit. “I’m not sure. I’m worried that she might too.”
“Doesn’t he have a little sister?” he asked.
“Yeah she’s a senior in high school this year.”
Silence. We were both still so stunned neither of us was crying.
“Fuck. I can’t do that to his mom.” I admitted.
“If you’re staying then I’ll stay with you.” Thomas put his arm around me.
My phone rang in my pocket. It was his mom.
“Hello?” I tried my best to not break down.
“Oh Drew. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.” Did she though? She was clearly trying her hardest not to cry. “We could use your help. You knew him the best and we aren’t sure what he would want. Would you be comfortable helping us make those decisions?”
I was holding the phone away from my ear a bit so that Thomas could hear what was being said. “Yes I could help. What happened to him?”
She paused for a second trying to understand my question. “Oh my God, I didn’t even tell you yet. I’m sorry my mind is gone.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”
“He had a rolled up bill next to him and there was a baggie on the desk. The detectives assume it was cocaine that had been laced with something.” She paused. “I… I found him slumped in his computer chair. I’d heard him talking to you a few minutes before.” She broke down. Tears were running down my face but I was doing a good job of not sobbing and making it more painful for her. Thomas squeezed my shoulder.
“We don’t know what he would have wanted. Would he want to be buried? I don’t think he liked the concept of being buried in a graveyard, but I’m just not sure. Would cremation be better? He loved science so we thought maybe we should donate his body to science.” I cringed visibly when she said that. The thought of his body being messed around with by strangers struck a nerve.
“He would want to be cremated. He enjoyed hanging out in graveyards because they are peaceful but he hated the idea of being buried.” I said with conviction.
“Okay, that’s what I thought but I knew that you would know.” She sounded relieved. “I think that he would want you to have some of his ashes so once I have them I will set some aside for you.”
As soon as those words escaped her mouth I lost it. The emotion came crashing out. I dropped my phone and sobbed. Thomas held me as I wept for a minute or two. I finally pulled myself back together and picked the phone back up. “Sorry. I’m trying to keep it together.” My voice was ragged.
“Do you have someone there? Are you, okay?” She was clearly worried that I was considering doing exactly what I’d been considering doing.
“Henry’s friend is here with me.” I told her.
“Could I speak to him for a second?” she asked. I looked at Thomas and he nodded his head. I handed him the phone.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” his voice cracked. He listened for a bit. “Yeah, I’m going to stay with him and make sure.” He listened a bit more. “Okay, talk to you soon.” He handed the phone back to me.
“We are thinking that he wouldn’t want a traditional service?” she asked.
“Oh no way, he hated those.” I recalled all the times he had complained about how much he hated going to services.
“Okay, we are thinking just an open house where his friends and family can come by the house and pay respects. Nothing formal.”
“I think he would like that idea.”
“Will you be able to come out for it?” she asked. “He would want you here.” Her voice cracked.
“I think my passport has expired… I don’t know if I can get it renewed in time.” I began to panic.
“You don’t need to be here that day. Anytime you can make it here, we… I want you to visit.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“We are going to post that he passed away on Facebook this afternoon. Who should we reach out to besides family before we do that.” she asked.
“His friend Ron should know. If you do that, I will message Sara and tell her. I think Henry would want me to do that.” I tried to think of anyone else that should be told personally. “I can’t think of anyone else.”
“Okay. I have so much I have to do. Is it okay if I call you back later?” she sounded overwhelmed.
“Of course.” We hung up and I sat in stunned silence. Never in my wildest dreams did I suspect that I would have to decide what to do with Henry’s body.
“Does anyone else know?” Thomas asked.
“That he’s dead?”
“No… that you two were together.”
As soon as Thomas said it, the realization of the situation washed over me. We were the only people who knew that he was gay. “No, just you…” the tears started to fall again.
“Do we… tell people?” He reached over and grabbed my hand.
“We can’t out him after he’s gone…” It was a question as much as it was a statement. I locked eyes with Thomas to see if he agreed.
“You’ve got to at least tell his family. Otherwise they won’t understand what you were to him.” he pointed out.
“She said she was giving me some of his ashes. What more could I want? That’s all that matters. I don’t need to out him.” my mind was a mess. I typically excelled at thinking through complex problems, but trying to assign logic to emotional decisions just wasn’t working.
“You need to tell Sara?” Thomas reminded me. I had already forgotten.
“Fuck. Yeah.” I opened Facebook Messenger. I didn’t know what to say. I opted to simply say that Henry had passed away and that there would be more details posted on Facebook soon.
The rest of the day was a blur. Thomas got me back to my place and we sat on the bed in a daze. The Facebook post set off a storm of messages. Henry had always kept me separate and apart from his friends back home. I think it was his way of making sure that he could share anything with me and know that it was safe - so I was spared from the vast majority of the message storm. A few people who were mutual friends of Henry and I on Facebook reached out to see if I was okay. I simply said ‘No’ and none of them followed up with anything else.
Thomas sat there, shell-shocked. “What the fuck is going on?” It was too much for him to even process.
“I don’t know dude.” My mind couldn’t focus on anything.
“Have you eaten yet today?” he asked me.
“I don’t know... “ I couldn’t remember. Thomas went downstairs and made me some food and brought it back to my bed.
“Here, you need to eat.” I put some food in my mouth and began chewing. My body didn’t want the food but Thomas insisted that I finish it all.
The two of us sat there the rest of the weekend. Thomas made sure that I ate and forced me to take a shower. My passport was expired so I wouldn’t be able to attend Henry’s service. Part of me was relieved. There was no way I could be there without giving away how much I cared for him. That would end up creating drama I wanted to avoid.
The next week was incredibly hard. I went to work and pretended that my entire world hadn’t just crashed down. Thomas moved in with me to make sure that I was okay. The service came and went. His mom sent pictures.
I made plans to visit her the week after Christmas. I just went through the motions of life each day. Every night Thomas would lay his head on my chest and I’d scratch it and try to fall asleep. After a week of little to no sleep, Thomas came up with an idea. He took a shower and then put on some of Henry’s deodorant and cologne that he had left at my place. He climbed into bed and snuggled up with me.
I immediately broke down and snuggled up next to him. After crying for what seemed like hours, I was able to finally fall asleep. With my eyes closed it was as if Henry was still laying beside me.
The Visit
Hours bled into days. Days bled into weeks. I didn’t go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I couldn’t celebrate. There was nothing left to be happy about.
The date of my trip finally arrived. I hadn’t bothered telling anyone I was going except for Henry’s mom and Thomas. I had never flown before because I was terrified of dying in a plane crash. I didn’t care about that anymore.
As I approached Henry’s hometown I thought it looked oddly similar to my own even though it was on the other side of the continent. His mom met me at the airport. It was our first time meeting in person. I tried to hide my pain. I did a poor job of it.
She drove back to her house. Things had quieted down. She still had her Christmas decorations up. I recognized all of them from Henry’s Snapchats over the years.
“Are you okay with sleeping in his room? I should have asked you that before I told you not to get a hotel.” she looked concerned.
“I want to sleep in his room.” my voice cracked. She nodded and led the way.
“I’ll give you some time to unpack and get settled. I thought we could drive around and I’ll show you all his favorite spots?” she said, clearly unsure of my reaction.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” the tears started flowing freely. She left to give me some time. I sat on the bed and looked around a room I knew almost as well as my own even though I’d never set foot in it. After hundreds of hours of video chats and thousands of Snapchats, I knew every inch of his room. I opened his closet. All his clothes were hung organized by color, just the way he liked it. I started to flip through his shirts.
There was the shirt that he wore the first day I met him. The shirt he wore the day he said we should spend our lives together. The shirt he was wearing that day in my car when he decided we should be more than friends. I collapsed on the floor. I didn’t even try to hide my sobbing.
On the floor of the closet were his favorite shoes. He had worn them during countless of our memories together. I picked one up as if it were the most valuable object in the entire world. His mother walked in to check on me and found me there holding a shoe.
“Oh Drew…” she picked me up off the floor and gave me a hug. “How do we get through this?”
“I don’t know…” I sobbed. “Can I see his ashes?”
“Drew, his dad picked them up from the funeral home and won’t give them back to me.” her voice trembled.
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe it. Actually, knowing his father, I could believe it.
“Yes, I’ve been asking for them back for over a month now.” she admitted. “I didn’t want you to get upset so I didn’t want to tell you.”
Anger suddenly changed into panic. “He’s not going to spread him somewhere is he?” The thought of Henry disappearing into the wind before I got a chance to say my goodbyes terrified me.
“I don’t think so. He wouldn’t dare.” We both knew that was a lie. He would dare.
After taking a while to collect myself she took me on a tour. She showed me where Henry went to grade school. The old family house where he was living when we first met. The parks and playgrounds he used to hang out in. I had her take me to his favorite back road to drive fast on and the cemetery he used to hang out in and smoke pot. She drove past a baseball field and said that was where he used to play his baseball games. “He loved catching.” she stated. I involuntarily snorted. As soon as I did, a look of terror formed on my face. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Oh nothing. We just used to have an inside joke about baseball.” I dodged.
I asked her to take me by a dozen or so other spots that he had wanted to show me. I think she was a bit surprised by the number of places he had told me about but she seemed happy to show me around.
That night she made me one of his favorite meals. It was delicious but I had a hard time eating it through the tears. She had left her Christmas decorations up because she wanted to have me around for emotional support when she took them down. Henry had loved Christmas so much and so many of the decorations were ones that he had made for her.
As we took the decorations off the tree, she told me each one’s backstory. I took photos of all the ones that Henry had made her. It took us nearly 4 hours and a full box of tissues to pack away all the decorations. I was so glad that I was able to be there to help her with it.
His mom went to bed early that night and I stayed up for hours going through his room. Henry was the sentimental type and he also took great care of his possessions so there was a lot to go through. His clothes hamper was empty. His aunt had thought that she was being helpful by doing his laundry and washing his sheets a few days after he passed. His mother was devastated that there wasn’t anything left that smelled like him.
I shared her pain. He had left a dirty shirt and a dirty pair of boxer briefs at my place. I put them in Ziploc in hopes of keeping his smell on them.
I took one of his shirts that he had worn often when he was living with me and put it on one of his pillows. I sprayed it with his cologne. I crawled into bed in the darkness and clutched the pillow tightly. It would be the closest I would come to sleeping next to him in his room.
The next morning his mom asked if I could help her set up her new printer. I sat down at her computer and immediately noticed a list of 10 New England towns. “What is this?” I asked her.
“Those are the towns that I’m thinking of moving to in New England.” she replied.
“You realize that the one you have listed as number one is the town I grew up in right?” I asked. Her eyes grew wide. She apparently hadn’t known.
“I’ve been drawn to that town and I had no idea why.” she told me.
“Henry has been there a bunch of times with me. He loved it there.” as soon as I said it, tears started to well up in her eyes.
“That can’t be a coincidence can it?” she asked.
“You really had no idea that’s where I grew up?” I probed.
“No clue. But as soon as I saw a picture of it, I knew that’s where I needed to go.” she told me. We both knew that Henry had to have influenced her. She became even more resolute in her decision to move there as soon as she knew Henry loved it there.
The next few days were a whirlwind. His mom continued to show me around and arrange visits with his closest friends. She asked his father if he would like to meet me. His response was, “How dare you invite him here without asking me first.” Needless to say, we didn’t meet.
Henry had sold off some of his possessions when he was in debt before moving in with me. I got on his email and sent messages to all the people who bought items and told them the situation and asked if I could buy the items back. Everyone was nice enough to sell me back the items for what they had paid for them. One of the items I got back was a guitar that his parents had given him for his 14th birthday. When his mom saw that I got everything back she broke down.
Three days into my week-long visit, his mom got a phone call. Her brother had succumbed to cancer a few days before Christmas, but the family had agreed to wait until summer to have a funeral / celebration of life for him so that it would give people time to travel and see one another. Apparently her brother’s partner suddenly decided that she didn’t want to wait until summer. She was going to have a funeral in two days.
Henry’s mom didn’t know what to do. “I can’t NOT go to my brother’s funeral.” she told me.
“If you don’t mind me being here by myself, I don’t mind staying. You go be with your family.” I didn’t want to cut my visit short. I needed to spend as much time in his hometown as I could.
That night I dropped her off at the airport and went back to her house by myself. What initially seemed like a curse turned out to be a blessing. Having a few days to myself with Henry’s things was exactly what I needed. It gave me time to reflect on our time together. I was able to go through his computer and laptop and back everything up to an external drive and then sanitize it. There was no need for his family to find a gay porn stash.
His mom made it safely to her brother’s funeral. She sent me pictures of the service and it looked beautiful.
I asked her if it would be okay for me to take a couple of Henry’s things that only held sentimental value to me. She gave me her blessing. I immediately started a pile. I took his 3 favorite shirts, all but a few pairs of his boxer briefs, his favorite sandals, all the tickets and memorabilia left from the concerts that he and I had gone to together over the years, his wallet and his toiletries bag. I knew his dad would probably want his wallet but he could suck my dick. He wasn’t getting it.
His mom sent a text later that night that blew my mind. Henry would want you to have his car. Henry had a Miata that he had spent years fixing up. It was his most prized possession.
Are you sure? I asked her.
I immediately went out and spent an hour prepping the car. It was way too far for me to drive it back so I would have to arrange to have it transported back at some point.
That night I sat on the spot where he died by myself in the dark. I talked to him and told him how much I missed him and how hard life was without him. I told him I forgave him for leaving me as soon as he did and assured him that I would take care of his mom. I talked for hours, hoping that he could hear me.
My visit finally came to an end. I packed up my stuff along with Henry’s possessions that I had picked out and headed to the airport. I returned home to begin my life without Henry. An adventure I was not looking forward to.
Part 5
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2020.09.15 06:15 burnerbump Porn mom picture

(On mobile)
Update: To clarify, he took the pictures last school year and I found out about them recently. Since this time his roommate dropped out of school and I don't have contact with him or his girlfriend.
However, I talked with my now ex-boyfriend about everything and told him it was totally creepy and weird what he did and that I was going to report it to the title 9 office at our University. I also told his mom what he did.
I support him for a multitude of reasons but I'm slowly going to cut off this support as I don't want him to become homeless.
Thanks for the advice, I sometimes have trouble following through with things with him but having people actively tell me to dump him was helpful. So awhile back my boyfriend (M19) (of 4 years) and I were at a rocky point in our relationship and we were adjusting to life in college. At this time he was rushing a frat and he had been hanging out a lot with them. I didn't mind because I was rushing a sorority at the time as well. We lived in the same dorm in the same hall though so I still saw him quiet a bit.
During this time I was also taking a heavy course load, working, and helping him pay for all of his stuff too because I got a full ride into college and he didn't. So basically we didn't have time to have sex or anything.
Well his roomate (M23) always had his girlfriend (F21) over and she spent the night a lot. During this time my boyfriend ended up taking pictures of her ass.
I found this out after my boyfriend accused me of cheating (I'm not, just super busy!) and asked to go through my phone. I said sure but to let me go through his camera roll.
So what should I do? I honestly think it's pretty weird. Like I don't care if he watches porn and stuff but taking pictures of someone without them knowing like that is really weird and not cool.
submitted by burnerbump to relationship_advice [link] [comments]

2020.09.13 22:05 DAK2017 Porn picture mom

I am currently 18, I'm a male, and I used to identify as bisexual, though now I just identify as gay. Up until the age of 14 I was a very conservative christian, and as a result I had been supressing myself sexually for a long time. I didn't realize that it was ok to be gay until I was 15, and once I did I decided to start exploring my sexuality. But here's the problem; I'm a massive introvert. Being hugely antisocial meant there was no way I'd be doing anything sexual in real life. So, I turned to the internet. From the ages of 15 and 17 years old, I got really into talking to other bisexuals online about sex. Sometimes we'd send each other porn that we liked, we'd discuss our fantasies, etc. I did this with a LOT of people, some of whom I'm still friends with today. There was a certain thrill I got from doing this, and it was nice to talk to people that were like myself. It gave me a feeling of validation to know that there were people who liked the same things I did, and it wasn't weird to like the same sex.
Now here's where things start going downhill. When I was 16, I became friends with this 11 year old guy on Twitter who was also bisexual, and I started sending him porn (it wasn't unsolicited, I asked him if I could do it and he agreed). He didn't seem uncomfortable with it, and he even encouraged me to send more, which I did because I was an idiot. This went on for a few weeks, and we still had friendly convos in between. He even introduced me to one of his friends who was struggling with coming out to their family, and I gave them some advice on what to do. Until one day, the kid told me he would be taking a break from Twitter because his father looked through his phone and saw our messages. I haven't spoken to him since.
After that I carried on with my life without any worries, I think I must have repressed the memory, and it didn't resurface until about 3 weeks ago.
I am, or well I WAS, a huge fan of the YouTuber Mini Ladd. He was a huge part of my childhood, and to this day I still find his content enjoyable, however recent events have made his videos difficult to sit through. If you don't know what happened, you can look it up for yourself. When I found out what had happened, I felt disgusted and betrayed. But it also reminded me of what happened about 1 1/2 years ago, and that's when it hit me: I sent porn to an 11 year old when I was 16.
At the time I was thinking "I'm 16, he's 11. That DOES seem kinda weird, but I mean I'm not trying to date him or anything, so I guess it's not THAT bad". Now, 16 and 11 TECHNICALLY isn't very far apart; It's only a 5 year age gap. But the MENTAL GAP between 16 and 11 is HUGE, and that realization hit me like a truck.
Looking back on it as an adult, I feel like a creep and a weirdo. I'm disgusted that I EVER thought it would be ok to act that way, and I can't believe that it took me over a year to realize that what I did was not fucking okay.
I didn't have any malicious intentions, I wasn't grooming him so I could lure him into a position where I could take advantage of him, I was simply just sharing my interests with him. I saw that he was bisexual and I wanted to see if he liked the same things I did. At the time I wasn't bothered by the age difference because I had no intentions of dating him, I certainly wasn't attracted to him (tbh I didn't even know what he looked like), we were just friends. But that doesn't make my actions any less weird or creepy. You know what they say: bad things are often done with good intentions.
Just to clarify, I am not a pedophile, and I do not support pedophilia in ANY way. Even back then I was very much against pedophilia. Every time I saw a person with "MAP" in their bio, I'd report and block them. But here's the thing: My view of pedophilia at the time was very basic. When 16-year-old me thought of pedophilia, he'd picture like a 30+ year old going after like a 14 year old. As an adult, I now realize that pedophilia can also be a 22 year old going after a 17 year old, or even a 17 year old going after a 10 year old. But 16 year old me didn't know that.
I can't help but think of my actions as something a pedophile might do, despite my actions having no pedophiliac intentions. I didn't realize the severity of my actions until about 3 weeks ago, and since then I have been stuck in a deep depression and have even considered suicide. Nothing seems to bring me joy anymore, and the feelings of guilt and shame have become so intense and overwhelming that I had to be checked in to a hospital for a brief period so I didn't do anything to hurt myself.
It doesn't help that a lot of online celebrities like Cosmodore, Cryaotic, ZeRo, etc. have been outed as pedophiles recently alongside Mini Ladd, and each time one of these cases pop up I feel the need to compare what I did to what they did.
I've talked to several people about this (my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my close friends) and they've all told me that I need to move on and forgive myself, but I can't help but feel like they're only saying that out of an obligation to make me feel better, or that they're looking at me through rose tinted glasses. I keep having brief moments of relief where I'm able to move on, but they never last very long before I plummet back into deep self-hatred and regret.
The worst part is that I feel selfish for feeling bad about it, as if I'M the victim here. I feel like I don't deserve to move on and forgive myself because if I did then I'd just be sweeping the problem under the rug and ignoring it, which is what that piece of shit Mini Ladd is trying to do. And that's why I'm making this post; to hold myself accountable and apologize.
If the kid who I sent porn to ever stumbles upon this, I have this to say: Words cannot express just how sorry I am. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I'm sorry if my actions have caused you any sort of harm or discomfort. I know a lot of people who are victims of things like rape or pedophilia tend to blame themselves for what happened to them, so I want you to know that it's not your fault; It's completely my fault for being an idiot and not thinking twice about my actions. Even if my actions DIDN'T cause you any harm, I'm still very sorry for being completely irresponsible. I hope that you can forgive me, but if you don't then I completely understand. I hope you go on to live an amazing life free of creeps like me.
Sidenote: In a week or two I will be seeing a therapist for the first time ever, and I'm happy that I'm taking the neccesary steps to better myself and my mental health.
submitted by DAK2017 to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]

2020.09.13 21:58 MetaMysterio I am stopping PMO because my future depends on it.

I am currently on a 3 week streak for abstaining from PMO. I feel like writing about my experience with addiction, as well as what I have done to try and stop it, so that I clear my mind a little bit.
I am currently 18M and my addiction initially started when I was 12. I was never really attracted to full-on porn, and I was rather attracted to anime ecchi pictures (that may be just as bad, or maybe even worse). Although, I will admit that I still watched regular porn from time to time.
I found 99% of all porn and hentai/ecchi (all of the kinky stuff) to be gross, and yet I looked at it anyways. It got to the point where I spent 30 minutes to an hour each day scrolling through various subreddits and salvaging the very few posts each day that didn’t make me feel entirely miserable.
For the most part, I thought nothing of it. It didn’t phase me until this year with how much it was not only impacting me, but everyone around me. There are definitely times where I could tell that PMO warped my mind.
Despite looking at this stuff, it never got to the point where I objectified any of my crushes. However, there were times where I could tell that something was wrong with me. Some of the posts I saw on reddit completely warped my idea of a relationship, and I would have strange fantasies in my head for weeks on end.
I can definitely tell that PMO impacted my ability to talk to girls. PMO made me extremely anxious around girls I like, and girls in general. I have several examples of this, but one of the more prominent ones was when I was on a Hershey Park trip. The first and only time that a girl has ever asked me for my number, I got scared, immediately rejected her, and ran. I could be so much happier right now if I wasn’t so stubborn. Because whenever I used to think of relationships, I immediately thought about sex, I completely shut out the idea of becoming friends with a girl over a long distance.
As the years went by, I became more and more lazy with hiding my addiction. I don’t know why this happened, but now I am suspicious that literally everyone that I know knows about my addiction. I have had to lie far too many times in order to save myself, and I know that it didn’t work because I am terrible at lying. I know that my younger brother knows, because he literally told me a few years ago “you’re into that stuff?” I know that my mom knows because she told me once that she could see what I was searching online. I suspected that a few years before she said that, so I resorted to reddit to try and keep my addiction hidden. I have no idea why she never did anything about it if she knew, and I am too afraid to talk to her about it. One time my friend at school caught a quick glimpse of a video I had saved and forgot to delete, because it showed up in the video uploading section of YouTube mobile. Lastly, I suspect that my dad knows, because my dumbass made an ecchi picture my phone wallpaper one time. Although, my dad always complains that I have my brightness on too low, so I am hoping that he didn’t see it.
There have also been some times when masturbation itself got in the way of my life. One time my mom complained about a “burning plastic” smell (or rubber. I don’t remember. It was a while ago) in the bathroom. There was another time where I was in the car while my family was inside a store, and I thought I could pass the time by looking at a little bit of stuff on my phone. I somehow got stimulated without touching myself and wet my pants. There have been far too many close calls like this in my life.
I can’t risk it anymore, so I am stopping. 2020 is the year that I finally decided to take measures to stop. I tried stopping once before in 2017-2018, but I just restarted my ecchi collection and it went back to where it was. At 2020, I reflected on what I was doing with my life, and I came to the conclusion that a big part of my addiction was scrolling through reddit for 30-60 minutes a day trying to find something NEW. I was never satisfied with what I had. My first step towards ending my addiction was changing that. I took the 20-30 images that I was satisfied with the most, and I stopped using reddit as a source for about four months.
Before 2020, I typically PMO’d once a day. During the period of cutting off my sources to ecchi, I was able to gradually limit masturbation to about once every two weeks, but I would still look at the photos I saved on my phone every couple of days. It was a step in the right direction, but I found myself on reddit once again in May or so. Although this time, I didn’t rely on it daily.
Now that I am an adult, I am now trying to turn my life around, and I am taking many extra measures to make sure that this addiction of mine finally stops once and for all. My biggest motivator for doing this is my college. I made it into my #1 choice college, and I don’t want to waste this opportunity at life. I am not going to risk my future by accidentally having ecchi tabs open on my phone or computer when the pandemic goes down to a level that is safe for in-person classes. Fear may not be the healthiest motivator for No Fap, but it is certainly effective. I am currently in my longest No Fap streak in years. Hopefully thoughts about my future continue to act as a fail-safe and prevent me from relapsing.
Lastly, some time ago, I read a post on No-Fap talking about an effective way to end PMO being replacing it with another activity. In a sense, I guess that is what I have been doing the past three weeks. Despite looking at ecchi for the past 5 and a half or so years, I was never really into watching anime. I started watching actual anime 3 weeks ago, and it has given me something to do other than PMO. Part of me also figured that I would stop objectifying anime characters if I actually watched the shows that they were from. I also found a safe-for-work yuri twitter account. Trust me when I say that this twitter account is not PMO material. The pictures are very non-sexualized, and I feel happy when I look at them; unlike when I looked at ecchi. I don’t know if this SFW source is a good idea to help with my addiction in the long run, but it is definitely better than what I was doing before.
I am sorry for the long read. I didn’t realize I had this much to say until I typed it up. I hope this helps people with No Fap. I hope people can take what I have learned and try not to repeat the mistakes I have made.
TL;DR: Sometimes I could definitely tell something was wrong with me, I am big dumb and not careful with hiding my addiction, and I can’t risk my future, so I am stopping my PMO addiction for good.
submitted by MetaMysterio to NoFap [link] [comments]