I was scared; scared of being touched intimately, scared of being hurt, scared of being bruised, scared of being used, and scared of feeling violated.
The first time I held your hand, it was warm and it made me feel like electricity was running all the way through my body.
It scared me because I wasn't used to having feelings of comfort, I was used to being hit, punched, kicked, raped, and abused.
That first night I went to your flat, I needed a shower. I felt dirty because the more I felt for you, all those uncomfortable feelings came back to me. I sat on the bed, not knowing whether to get a shower or not because I felt afraid to be naked. I tried hard to fight those feelings because I desperately needed to be clean.
I wanted you to join me, I wanted to feel you, to have your comfort around me as I showered; and, I spent over an hour feeling afraid before I asked you to join me.
You had looked after me in that hospital where we met. You were by my side, even when nobody else was. You saw my pain, but you also saw who I was underneath that pain.
You treated me with humanity and respect, while everyone else treated me like a human punch bag.
I always thought sex was a dirty word until I met you. I thought it was a dirty, violating act that only happened when men and women wanted to hurt each other. I was afraid to feel intimacy. I was afraid to be loved.
You talked to me for hours a day, and you were patient and understanding.
The more that you talked to me, the more I felt able to open up. You took your time, you were patient, and you never pushed me to do anything that I felt uncomfortable with.
You treated me with respect and dignity; you showed me respect, that I had never known.
There were times when we were together when I wanted you to touch me, and feel me.
I wanted to touch and feel you too, but it didn't happen for a long time because other men and women had made me feel violated.
I had waited a whole few months before I could make it happen.
At the start, when you tried to hold me, I jumped with every move.
I am sorry about that; I didn't mean to, and it wasn't your fault; but when you have been violated so many times, fear is a difficult thing to deal with.
I ran the shower with tears in my eyes, then I stripped, shaking as I did it. I couldn't take anymore, I needed to feel safe while I got myself cleaned up.
The only person I felt safe doing that with was you, and I didn't feel safe asking anyone else.
I came to you crying, and I struggled to get the words out. I was afraid I might be making a mistake, afraid of being raped again, afraid that my body would be violated, and afraid that this might not be what I was hoping for,
I found the courage to take your hand, and get into the shower with you while you reassured me that you wouldn't hurt me. I jumped a few times when you went to touch me, but then I asked if I could touch you and you said "of course!"
You stood there and let me bathe and feel you. I traced my shaking hands up and down your body, I massaged the sponge into your back, then I stared into your eyes and kissed you.
We did this together for a while before anything else happened. I started to feel confident, warm, happy, safe, and secure.
I felt like I was loved.
I slowly found the confidence to take it all the way, even just for a short time. I was still a little afraid as you entered me. However; you took it at my pace; gentle and slow, you also stopped when I asked you to.
When I came out of that shower, I felt anxious because I thought that we had done something wrong.
Those feelings disappeared as you put your arms around me, and reassured me that you loved me.
We married and had several children together, but our sex life wasn't easy because sometimes those dirty feelings would come back.
I was comfortable some of the time, but there were days when I wasn't.
It took me many long years to get over the trauma and to all men and women out there,
I never meant to see you all as bad people in the world. I had been traumatized because I was violated by both for many long years before I got married in many different ways that were sexually violent, physically violent, and emotionally and psychologically abusive.
It took many years of strength and courage before I could accept that I needed help with my trauma, and I had been misdiagnosed over the years by many consultants. I was eventually diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but previously I was diagnosed with EUPD which was reoriented a few years later because consultants decided that I did not fit that description.
Although I felt scared and confused, the first time I and my partner made love was an amazing and refreshing experience for me.
I began to understand that not everybody wanted to hurt me, and I felt genuinely loved for the first time since my first serious boyfriend and girlfriend had passed away in the early 90s.
I have had times in my marriage where the fear does come back, but you can't just delete memories, even with therapy; though with my husband's ability to allow me to explore love and sex in a safe way, I have come to not only feel safe to talk about my feelings, but also to be able to enjoy sex.
So this article is a thank you to the one man in my life who stood by me through the trauma, tolerated my fear and emotional abandonment, tolerated my fear regarding sex, and is still standing strong with me even after his world fell apart after Covid-19.
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About the Creator
Fiction, Horror, Sex, Love, Mental Health, Children's fiction and more. You'll find many stories in my profile. I don't believe in sticking with one Niche! I write, but I also read a lot too.