UPDATE: This shouldn't be a reason to break up, right?
homemade shrimp+pork wontons with chilli oil dressing
Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GirlDinnerDiaries/comments/1w2rn3l/this_shouldnt_be_a_reason_to_break_up_right/
TRIGGER WARNING: sexual assault, abuse, miscarriage, big fat trauma dump
We've broken up. For everyone that wanted the update, here it is. I'm going to be going a bit more in depth into the relationship as a whole and my struggles with it/moving on as well as some surrounding circumstances regarding my past. I know how I will be sounding. If your response would consist of "be happy you're rid of him" or "just move on already" please don't comment. I'm aware. I do not need further judgement, I know that I have allowed myself to turn into a pathetic wreck. I do need advice though, mostly on how tf I'm going to go on with my life after this god-awful situation that is making me lose my faith, myself, and any hope for a future relationship. This is going to be a very long post, so buckle up. I will be recounting everything I can think of. I have never told this to anyone in its full entirety, so if you don't want to read something this long, feel free to skip.
So, I met this guy when we were both still teenagers. We've turned into adults (in the legal not the emotional sense) while together. I grew up abroad, he's from my home country, and we started off as a holiday fling. A few months back, I had gotten out of my first ever relationship (with a guy who, while not being an evil douchebag, was deeply addicted to porn since childhood, which of course had somehow also messed with me) and at the time, I was not looking for anything serious. We texted, flirted, and then, we ended up facetiming every day for three months. I told him that I didn't really want a relationship, and he agreed, but after three months, he asked me to be his GF. I agreed.
Shortly before he asked me to be his GF, I was out with friends and got a bit too drunk. A guy friend I had known for years offered to get me an Uber so I could drive home and came along. He changed the address to his place, dragged me up to his room and assaulted me. I told no one. A few weeks I was assaulted, another girl went to the police bc of him and he was punished, so I thought that it didn't matter.
I moved back to my home country, and visited him. Before I did, he was on holiday with his family, and we called much less. He said it was due to the WiFi, and I'd been in the same resort a few years back, so I believed him. While we were cuddling, I saw a notif from another girl pop up. I didn't want to go through his stuff, but I did, maybe that's horrible of me to do, but I wasn't going to let him lie to me about what was happening. My first BF had done that to me. I found out that he had cheated on me. And then I realized that she was not the same girl as the one from the notif. That was a girl he had been texting on and off for months before we met (let's call her A). I confronted him, he admitted it. I, naively, believed that I would lose all feelings for him in the following days. I had never been cheated on physically before.
It wasn't that simple of course, and what was more, because I had been assaulted, I had made myself have sex with my then-BF, which I shouldn't have done. It was a personal sacrifice I made to seem whole to the outside world, I suppose. I became super attached to him very quickly, and I was too afraid to break things off, confront my past and my messed-up relationship with my own sexuality. I was glad that I could have sex with only him and that he did not probe into why I cried in my sleep sometimes (I did tell him about the SA at some point).
Two weeks after I left his place, I returned home, and he was at a "friend's birthday party". He did not respond the entire weekend, just texting me once that he was super hungover. I essentially knew that he was lying to me, but ignored it. A's best friend texted me a few days later. A had the strength to break it off immediately. I did not. I told myself that this was just the beginning of our relationship, that it did not matter, that I'd hate him eventually, blah blah blah. I knew I was lying to myself. I loved him, and I wanted to be enough for him.
Of course, he then realized he could do whatever he wanted to me and I'd just keep eating whatever shit he shoveled onto my plate. All I could think of was that I could not bring myself to have sex with a new person, because it had been hard enough to do that with him. And that no person would accept someone who takes so much time to have sex. I thought that there was nothing left my ex could do to further disappoint me, so maybe I could live with it.
A condom ripped, I got pregnant, and I did not find out. I had what I thought was a really bad period, cramping and way too much blood. I went to my gyno a few weeks later and found out it was a miscarriage. I still think of that sometimes. I don't want children, not yet, but once I knew, I felt terrible. The cheating stopped from his side, and he mostly just treated me badly. He refused to take me out on dates bc it "wasn't worth the money".
At the end of the year, he broke things off with me, claiming he saw no future, and left me to cry in his bed to go comfort another girl he was trying to have sex with. I couldn't sleep, told his mother about the situation, and she drove me home the next day (which is quite a long way). That should've been it.
The breakup was hard, but I started feeling better almost immediately. My skin cleared, my self-confidence went up, and everyone around me kept telling me how amazing I looked and that I was smiling like crazy. We were no contact, and I was going out and enjoying my life. A few months after the initial breakup, I met a really sweet guy. We had the same interests, he asked me out on a date, and drove for hours to take me out while I was visiting friends in a different city. My ex found this out, called me and begged me to give him a shot at treating me right. I don't know why I allowed him back into my life. I still loved him, and had been talking to the other guy for only a week or so. My ex fessed up to cheating during the holiday where I'd suspected he had, and also to a girl who had KNOWN about me, with whom he had been cheating for months. I knew this girl from seeing her, she'd smiled at me while I was out in my bf's city, holding his hand. I thought she was nice, but I realized when he told me about her that she had been laughing at me.
I broke things off with the other guy, and my ex was really kind and in love, up until he found out that I had met the other guy in a bar, and kissed him in said bar, which is apparently only something a "slut" would do. And that I should know better. What followed was an immediate switch back. I endured months of slut-shaming this year, mixed in with grand gestures, but also insults like the one in the original post. He stressed me out so much that whenever he questioned me, I'd get stomach aches and diarrhea, bc he'd demand real solid proof of where I'd been, what I'd been doing and with whom, which I didn't have bc I don't keep a fucking record. I'd cry for hours on end, to which he only said that my tears didn't mean shit to him bc I was always crying. When I'd ask him to apologize, or say something kind to me so I could feel better and pull myself together he'd say that I "wasn't a fucking toddler".
We ended up fighting a lot, mostly bc he would say hurtful things, which ultimately led to the events of the ORIGINAL POST. He told me that he was tired of us fighting so much, and we went to bed without further contact. The next morning, I asked him if we could resolve the issue (of us fighting a lot, not the original post. I wanted to at least figure things out before I made things about me and broke things off). He agreed, and not 30min later (I have the timestamps from the messages), changed his mind, saying it was "too late anyway" and that he had reached a point of no return. Essentially, he broke up with me before I got the chance to break up with him.
Not two days after my breakup, I got a call from my gyno. I had a cancer scare (I'm okay, it's not cancer!) and found out that I have a hormonal imbalance that essentially makes me react quite emotionally in situations that feel threatening. I called him to tell him about the cancer scare bc I needed to know (doctor's orders!) if he was vaccinated for HPV. He asked why, I told him I might have cancer, and he said that I can update him if he wants. He's not reached out to ask whether I have cancer, and I'm not sure why I thought he would. He obviously doesn't care.
That's the current situation. I know it's good that we're broken up. At the same time, I'm so furious that he's making it out to be my fault. I know I should've let go 2 years ago. Now I'm being blamed by him, and it's killing me. I know he's already texting new girls, he followed one hours after our breakup and told me not to contact her (or else, essentially).
The worst part about this whole entire breakup is that I'm losing my support system. My mother has continually broken off contact with me + my own siblings and eventually stopped speaking to me. She's mentally ill, but it still hurts of course, even if it's not my fault. She is my mother, and though she's in treatment, I don't know if she'll ever speak to us again. His family treated me like one of their own. His parents adored me. They don't know what he did, mostly, apart from his mom knowing about the situation of him leaving me to cry during the breakup. That was enough for them to look at him with some sort of disappointment. They called me their future daughter-in-law, and proudly so. His mother is incredibly caring, she has loved me and given me no doubt that I would always be welcome in her house, no matter my relationship to her son. I have tutored his younger sister in several subjects for two years now. So she's losing my help as well, I guess? I'm going to return his stuff to his parent's place, so I can say goodbye to them (and likely tell them that he broke up with me in the process. I doubt he has, or his mother would've called me and asked what happened). But I don't want to lose them. I love his siblings and his parents, they're so important to me.
And then there's the question of wtf I'm going to do with myself. I don't have access to a therapist, I can't afford one if I did. I can't eat. I haven't slept more than two hours for days, bc I keep dreaming of him. I'm so angry at him, and at myself, for not being enough, which I know is stupid, and only serves to make me even angrier. The thought of another person in any way utterly disgusts me, but I still want him on a sexual level, which is so confusing. I look like I'm ill. I can't stop crying. How tf am I going to attempt to heal myself? And I know I have to fix this. I could not possibly try to ever get into a new relationship without managing how much I've fucked myself up. Even if I would eventually want a new relationship, how am I going to ever trust someone again? I've been in two relationships, and in both, I've been lied to and deceived for the whole time. Then there's sex. I used to like having sex, for like, the few months before I knew my first bf was a porn addict (we were each other's first, which probably also messed me up on some level). Since then, I've spent years performing. There's a distant memory of enjoying it, sure, and I want to do it sometimes, but I know that all I'll be thinking about is my inadequacy, my possible lack of skill, me looking imperfect. And of course, the original post issue of "smell". I don't recognize myself anymore, I've completely lost who I used to be. I used to be happy, and confident, and a person that was whole. The worst part is, I know that, apart from him, I'm intelligent. Somehow, he dug his fingers into my brain and hasn't let go for one fucking moment since he first cheated.
Sometimes, I find myself wishing he'd just get hit by a car or something, which is so terrible to admit, even on here. It would force me to move on. A part of me is still trying to be good enough for this cruel manchild. I don't want him back, and at the same time, I wish he'd show up at my door, on his knees, begging for my forgiveness and telling me that I was never at fault, that I tried my best and it was enough. Even now, I still have feelings for him.
I know I did this to myself, in the end. I could've left. I should have. I just needed to say something, to someone. I'm so sorry for everyone who was waiting for an update and is getting hit by this trainwreck now. If you made it to the end, and you have any idea on how I can actually rebuild my life without access to therapy, please tell me. I know it'll take me a long time before I can even think about relationships or sex again, likely several years, but in the end, I, like anyone else, want to be loved. I want to love, because I have so much to give. I want to trust someone with my heart and not regret it, and I want children and happiness and all the rest. Thanks to all you GDD people, you guys helped me open my eyes in the original post. Without it, I'd be doing even worse. I'd likely be actually blaming myself for the breakup, and be crushed about it still.
Advice and words of wisdom welcome from everyone!
Posted Sep 5, 2026, 3:55 PM UTC