While I was dating my husband, things were near perfect. He treated me as if I were his partner and soul mate. We did a lot together. He even helped me clean house. Lord knows, I wasn’t use to that. We helped each other with all of the chores inside and out, well except the laundry and cooking. I thought I had found my dream man…the one that was the total package.
My husband was good to me and I returned the favor. I pampered him. What began as ways for me to show my love and appreciation became expectations. I now HAD to get his clothes out daily. I not only made his meals, but I also made his plate and took it to him wherever he decided to eat. I kept glasses in the freezer so he could have a frosty cold drink with his meal. I took everything to him. He started expecting me to stop what I was going and go make him popcorn, get him a drink, or whatever else he wanted. Hell, I even began clipping his damn toenails.
Basically, I became his slave. If I forgot to do something or didn’t do it as quick as he thought I should, he would get furious and scream at me. For example if I was finishing making a certain item for dinner after I took him his plate and forgot his drink, he would scream at me “I’m going to choke to death! Bring me my milk!” Please keep in mind that I always feed him, then the kids and finally I sit down to eat myself. At this point, I’m usually eating alone. I’m not sure why I have been using the past tense because it’s still happening.
My husband has become a very controlling person. After we were married, he casually stated three things he would NOT have in a woman. First, he wouldn’t have a gray haired woman. I was to keep my hair dyed if need be.
Second, he would NOT have a fat woman. I was about 129 lbs. when we started dating. After several surgeries, I ballooned up to 185, but am down to 175 now. He’s made little comments to let me know that he’s not real thrilled with my size. I try to brush them off, but it hurts. It’s probably good to point out that he’s about 300 lbs. so he has no room to judge.
Lastly, he would NOT have a woman that wouldn’t give it up. If we go more than a few days, he complains until I give him what he wants whether it be intercourse or oral sex. Shoot after my hysterectomy and bladder surgery, we only waited like three days. Every time we do have sex, I’m expected to get wet and cum….every single time. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cum on demand? It’s almost impossible, for me anyway.
As time progressed, the rude comments and belittling were a part of my daily life. Comments about my hair color, weight, how clean I kept the house, doing chores for him outside, or whatever else rubbed him wrong that day. For a while, this side of our life was kept behind closed doors. We were the perfect couple in front of people. It’s at the point now that the snide remarks, bossing and making me feel like shit happens in front of everyone except our church family. It’s usually not to the extreme it is at home, but it happens. I just want to crawl in a hole and die when he does it. Hell who am I kidding…I want to die most days.