I think my new sweetheart is an abuse survivor
Love&Patience
New Registrant
Dear people:
First of all, let me say how much I admire and support you for what you are doing with this site and the community it touches. I found you via Google, and sought you out for some help with what I think I am dealing with.
This is a long email, and I beg your indulgence to read it. I really need some help, and don't know where else to start.
I am a single, straight woman in my 40s. About six months ago, I met "Fred," who is about fifteen years younger than me. I was apprehensive about dating a younger guy, but Fred was such wonderful company and we liked each other so much, I got over it. We saw each other a few times, becoming more and more affectionate, but then he told me he was not entirely free of a previous relationship, and needed some time to think.
We then began an email correspondence that took two separate tracks. On the one hand, Fred began to tell me about the 4-year relationship he was trying to decide about (should he or should he not get back together with "Gilda"). The story was, Gilda had been raped by her father as a child, and as a result could not allow a man to touch her. She thought of all men as rapists. Fred was so in love with her, he stayed with her for 4 years, trying to support her in her therapy, tolerating her rejections and tears every time he tried to touch her, etc. Gilda eventually broke up with Fred for his own good, saying that she needed to heal by herself and not deprive him any more. Fred was very much wrapped up in his feelings for Gilda, and his messages always seemed to imply a kind of guilt: as if he were trying hard to prove to Gilda that he, unlike "all men" in her experience, was not a rapist, that he would sacrifice his own sexual fulfillment in support of her healing.
The other track of our email correspondence became extremely erotic. We began to write elaborate, delicious sexual scenarios to one another, and Fred and I both delighted in this adventure. Fred's fantasies often involved mild bondage/domination -- he would imagine tying me up with silk scarves and making love to me in my helpless position, etc. I thought they were all very exciting and pleasurable. The intensity built up over time.
Finally, a couple weeks ago, Fred finally decided that he was not going to try again with Gilda. I invited him to spend a weekend with me. He wrote back that he would come, but he didn't know if he could spend the whole weekend, because he was "not used to being loved and accepted," and was "not sure how easily overwhelmed" he might be. He kept saying, "I am so accustomed to feeling that my touch is always rape, because I'm a man. . . I am afraid of how I might feel with you."
Fred came to see me. We talked for many hours, and then began to kiss and become intimate. I won't go into details, but let's just say that as long as he was in complete control and giving me pleasure, all was well. But every time I tried to pleasure him, with my hands or mouth, or invite him to enter me, he pushed me away, saying "Oh, I am not used to this. . . No, I am not ready for this. . ." Well, of course I stopped immediately.
In the morning, Fred was deeply affectionate and tender, but also terribly sad and a million miles away from me. He said apologetically that he really did feel overwhelmed, and horrified by his own reactions. He kept referring to the scars he retained from his relationship with Gilda. . . but I was beginning to feel that whatever was troubling him was much older than four years ago.
Just before Fred left, we were sitting on my sofa and the sun struck his face from a particular angle. I noticed two small marks under his cheekbone, slightly purplish, like a bruise. I touched his cheek, and asked "Did you get hurt?" He responded: "It's an old scar," in a strange distant voice. I tried to de-fuse the situation with levity, and asked him "Did somebody deck you?"
Fred's response haunts me. He said, very solemnly and sadly, "Yes." Then I said "Well, I hope you gave the other guy as good and better!" and he said, even more darkly, "He has been dead for a long time." I kissed the scar, but said nothing.
I don't think Fred's problem stems from his relationship with Gilda; rather, I think he and Gilda found each other because they were both suffering a similar pain. Now he is telling me that he wants to heal, that he would like to get past his problems. . . but he is not telling me anything about his problems, except for the story of him and Gilda.
What should I do? I am WAY more than halfway in love with this man, and I am sure he is in a great deal of pain. Is there anything I can say or do, any good way for me to reach out to him? How can I let him know that he is safe with me? Where can I find some support for people like myself, falling in love with an abuse survivor?
Anything you can suggest would be a great help and comfort to me. Apologies, again, for the excessive length of this email.
Bless your heart, and thanks for reading this.
with appreciation,
Ms. Love&Patience
First of all, let me say how much I admire and support you for what you are doing with this site and the community it touches. I found you via Google, and sought you out for some help with what I think I am dealing with.
This is a long email, and I beg your indulgence to read it. I really need some help, and don't know where else to start.
I am a single, straight woman in my 40s. About six months ago, I met "Fred," who is about fifteen years younger than me. I was apprehensive about dating a younger guy, but Fred was such wonderful company and we liked each other so much, I got over it. We saw each other a few times, becoming more and more affectionate, but then he told me he was not entirely free of a previous relationship, and needed some time to think.
We then began an email correspondence that took two separate tracks. On the one hand, Fred began to tell me about the 4-year relationship he was trying to decide about (should he or should he not get back together with "Gilda"). The story was, Gilda had been raped by her father as a child, and as a result could not allow a man to touch her. She thought of all men as rapists. Fred was so in love with her, he stayed with her for 4 years, trying to support her in her therapy, tolerating her rejections and tears every time he tried to touch her, etc. Gilda eventually broke up with Fred for his own good, saying that she needed to heal by herself and not deprive him any more. Fred was very much wrapped up in his feelings for Gilda, and his messages always seemed to imply a kind of guilt: as if he were trying hard to prove to Gilda that he, unlike "all men" in her experience, was not a rapist, that he would sacrifice his own sexual fulfillment in support of her healing.
The other track of our email correspondence became extremely erotic. We began to write elaborate, delicious sexual scenarios to one another, and Fred and I both delighted in this adventure. Fred's fantasies often involved mild bondage/domination -- he would imagine tying me up with silk scarves and making love to me in my helpless position, etc. I thought they were all very exciting and pleasurable. The intensity built up over time.
Finally, a couple weeks ago, Fred finally decided that he was not going to try again with Gilda. I invited him to spend a weekend with me. He wrote back that he would come, but he didn't know if he could spend the whole weekend, because he was "not used to being loved and accepted," and was "not sure how easily overwhelmed" he might be. He kept saying, "I am so accustomed to feeling that my touch is always rape, because I'm a man. . . I am afraid of how I might feel with you."
Fred came to see me. We talked for many hours, and then began to kiss and become intimate. I won't go into details, but let's just say that as long as he was in complete control and giving me pleasure, all was well. But every time I tried to pleasure him, with my hands or mouth, or invite him to enter me, he pushed me away, saying "Oh, I am not used to this. . . No, I am not ready for this. . ." Well, of course I stopped immediately.
In the morning, Fred was deeply affectionate and tender, but also terribly sad and a million miles away from me. He said apologetically that he really did feel overwhelmed, and horrified by his own reactions. He kept referring to the scars he retained from his relationship with Gilda. . . but I was beginning to feel that whatever was troubling him was much older than four years ago.
Just before Fred left, we were sitting on my sofa and the sun struck his face from a particular angle. I noticed two small marks under his cheekbone, slightly purplish, like a bruise. I touched his cheek, and asked "Did you get hurt?" He responded: "It's an old scar," in a strange distant voice. I tried to de-fuse the situation with levity, and asked him "Did somebody deck you?"
Fred's response haunts me. He said, very solemnly and sadly, "Yes." Then I said "Well, I hope you gave the other guy as good and better!" and he said, even more darkly, "He has been dead for a long time." I kissed the scar, but said nothing.
I don't think Fred's problem stems from his relationship with Gilda; rather, I think he and Gilda found each other because they were both suffering a similar pain. Now he is telling me that he wants to heal, that he would like to get past his problems. . . but he is not telling me anything about his problems, except for the story of him and Gilda.
What should I do? I am WAY more than halfway in love with this man, and I am sure he is in a great deal of pain. Is there anything I can say or do, any good way for me to reach out to him? How can I let him know that he is safe with me? Where can I find some support for people like myself, falling in love with an abuse survivor?
Anything you can suggest would be a great help and comfort to me. Apologies, again, for the excessive length of this email.
Bless your heart, and thanks for reading this.
with appreciation,
Ms. Love&Patience
