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I have a colorful past. I was what you might consider to be somewhat promiscuous during my college years.
I desperately wanted to be in a serious relationship but just couldn’t seem to find a guy that would stick, so I had several long-term “situationships.” I even ended up having a child with one of my long-term partners. However, I finally met my husband in my mid-30s. We dated for roughly two years, and then he proposed. We had a short engagement and an intimate wedding and have been happily married for about four years.
I can’t ask for a better husband. He wholeheartedly embraces my daughter as his own and showers her with love and affection at every opportunity. Not only does he spoil her, but he also goes above and beyond to please me, often anticipating my needs even before I am aware of them. His thoughtfulness is truly remarkable.
On our fourth anniversary, he surprised me with an unforgettable trip to Paris, which undoubtedly stands as the most romantic experience in my life. What sets our relationship apart is the profound connection we share on a spiritual and intellectual level. We are aligned in our beliefs and values. I really believe he is my soulmate.
Lately, we have been talking about having a little one of our own. While my window is nearly closed, I would want nothing more than to have his child, but things took an unexpected turn.
My “body count,” sexually or his for that matter, never came up during the courting phase of our relationship, and I wasn’t about to be volunteering information. But recently, my hubby and I were driving together listening to a podcast when the show broached the subject of women and promiscuity. He turned to me and pointedly asked what my body count was, and I told him.
He literally hit the brakes, almost causing us to be rear-ended. I asked him what his problem was, and he began to question me further about my past. In his line of questioning, he found out that I’m still friends with a guy I was intimate with in the past. He seriously flipped out. I had no idea this would evoke the kind of reaction that it did. He ordered me to sever the relationship immediately, especially since the guy and I had been intimate in college.
But that’s not even the worst of it. Ever since the day we heard the podcast, I’ve felt like a prisoner in my relationship and in my own home. My husband has lost trust, respect, and his mind. He goes through my phone, monitors my Instagram page, and is obsessed with who’s liking my posts. It’s insane!
To top it off, he listens in on phone calls with my girls and gives me the fifth degree whenever I make plans to go out with them.
It’s like I’m this tainted woman that can’t be trusted in his eyes now that he knows I have a past; but don’t we all? And who knows if he’s telling me the truth about his “body count.” Whatever! I want my loving husband back and wholeheartedly regret having been honest with him.
Who would have thought it would thrust us into this hellish space where trust and respect no longer exist? The talks and arguments have been endless, and I’m reaching my limit with it all.
My best friend is going through a divorce and says she sees some of the same signs that were missed by her in her own marriage. She thinks I need to reevaluate why I’m choosing to stay married and if my husband is actually the one for me. I want to give my husband the time and grace to allow for this period to pass, but I’m honestly not sure how much longer I can withstand this.
Should I stay in the marriage and start a family with this man, or should I run for the hills?
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