Biggest Mind F*** Ever Known to Woman. He Sat Me Down and Said This

Where in the world do I start with this? If any of you, perhaps the ever-wise RCS, have read my few previous posts, I am in an LDR with an incredible man who loves me to death. Or so I thought. Please bear with the length. I am in utter shock.

I have known him 2 years, met him through family/friends at a wedding, and he has initiated everything from the start. Now, when I attended this wedding, I had a 9-month old baby at home who was premature, colicky, and exclusively breastfeeding. I was in this fat, dreadful, exhausted, sloppy “maternity mode”. It was torture for me to go out and shop for a dress that would fit nicely over my double-D breasts and hefty curves, but I did it. I was not fat, but I was very, very filled out, and at 5’1″, having been a petite, tiny, tight ballet dancer all my life, I felt gross, ashamed, and just plain fat. Yet this guy approached me at that wedding…by running across the parking lot at the end of the night and trying to kiss me on the spot. It was bold, confident, and the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt, having this incredibly good-looking man bombard me and feeling his lips lingering in front of mine. I laughed at him and told him if he wanted to do that, he could call me. He was impressed and when I wrote my number on his hand, he texted me before I was even home.

Our communication continued on and on. After exchanging a few texts, I learned he lived out-of-state…1,000 miles away…and was heading back home indefinitely. He was hot as anything, but I had just met him, so it was no skin off my back. He went home and I didn’t see him til his next trip home, which was quite a while later. We hit it off again this time, and the chemistry was twice as strong as the last time. This continued on and on. Over time our conversations got deeper and more engaging. We started to realize we had both met our match. He continued to visit my state whenever he was here visiting family and his trips got more and more frequent. By summer 2014, he was telling me that every girl in his hometown of Atlanta had completely paled in comparison to me and that it was painful to be without me. I held off hope, knowing the reality of the distance, but when he said these things, I knew he meant them. By February 2015, he was visiting me again and moving towards me with unprecedented depth and sincerity. By this point he was falling in love with me, and was only a little shy about telling me so. But the more his actions matched his words, and the more he balanced his passion for me with some degree of hesitation and rationality, I began to trust him. In June 2015 he came back again. And just 4 weeks after leaving me that time, he came back again (this past 4th of July week). Last night I dropped him at the airport after 10-day stay. Obviously, since February, sh*t has gotten really real.

When I went to bed Sunday night, knowing he was leaving the next day, I felt like my life was a dream come true. I had just spent the most perfect week with this man, and he was completely, head-over-heels in love with me. Really. And at 26 years old I know the difference. Everywhere I went with him, our friends and family commented on how in love he seemed and how impressed they were to see him tossing around my toddler, taking such good care of us both and just living in total love. His sister even teared up when she met me and told me how much he needed a girl like me in his life and how much growth she has seen in him since he met me. And this is something he constantly confirmed with me. He made emotional leaps and bounds, changed and grew into a better man, and he attributed it all to me. It was really really genuine. And he took every opportunity at every second to show me love, and show me he was IN love with me. He told me this and proved it too. The sex was beyond passionate. He once finished 3 times in 20 minutes. TMI maybe, but anybody who says “he loves you but he’s not in love with you” is wrong. That passion, that sexual desire, that can’t-live-without you, you-are-my-queen type of love WAS THERE. It was the clearest thing I’ve ever felt, his love and devotion. He spent the whole week taking excellent care of my son and me, introducing me to his family and encouraging my time around them all, giving me everything he had to give. And he continued to talk about something he has been mentioning consistently for the past month: moving up here to be with me.

He told me this was uncharted territory for him and that I had literally made him believe in love. That he always thought every relationship inevitably had to end before he met me. That he admired, respected, and needed me. Because I made his life more full and made him the man he wants to be. He meant all these things. Sometimes it made him cry like a baby. Sometimes he had doubts, fears, reservations, and weird-energy days. But we always breezed through them. I gave him space, understanding and patience and he continued to kiss the ground I walked on for it.

It was the end of his trip, post-July 4 festivities, and we had one more day together. My son was going to daycare on his usual schedule and my man and I had planned an entire day to ourselves before he had to fly out that night. Obviously it included lots of “alone time” and a final enjoying of our romance, knowing we wouldn’t see each other again for a few months this time. And what happened was the complete opposite.

When we woke up that morning, he was acting way weird. His energy was so blatantly closed-off. Before going to bed the night before–and yes, we were completely sober–he had sobbed into my chest and told me he needed me. He broke all those walls he had put up and I felt like we had just moved a mountain. All by his own choice. I want him, but I never had an agenda in this. It makes me happy to see him growing into a bigger man because I can see what it means to him, and I love him. But he was pushing past all these obstacles in order to be with me. That really sums it up. He was moving mountains in order to be able to be with me. It wasn’t easy, but he was doing real work and including me all along. I felt so close to him by that point. I felt like it was us against the world.

So that morning, I finally asked him what was up. He hesitated, told me was just tired, sad about leaving, etc. I said ok, I understand. I went outside for a bit to give him some space. When I came back, he sat me down and told me what was wrong.

He started it by saying we shouldn’t have sex today. I searched his face for signs of humor. But all I saw was that he was seriously struggling with what he had to say. He looked really pained. So I listened. He said he wanted me to be at my best, he wanted me to be healthy, he wanted me to start working out, and he wanted me to gain weight.

Excuse me?

This man who gets hard every time I walk up to him and has passionate sex with me constantly…is telling me that I’m “not his usual type” and that he always saw himself having kids with somebody who was tall, curvy, dark eyed, etc. THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF ME. I am fair, blond, hazel-eyed, petite, tight, slim, tiny. 5’1″ and a perfect 105 lbs. He’s telling me he doesn’t want to have sex with me. That he has “minutely” lost attraction to me, and that he needs me to gain weight. When I realized he was serious about this I was about ready to slap him and throw the whole thing away. But I worked through that immediate insult and tried to be the bigger person. I thanked him for his honesty–after all, the one thing I had asked him for was to not leave me in the dark. I told him it was a selfless act of love for him to be so honest. And I told him was extremely hurt and blindsided. That was literally the last concern I expressed him to voice when I asked him what was wrong.

This talk dragged on the whole day yesterday. It was draining and SO PAINFUL. All my old insecurities washed up. All those times as a teen I wished I were tan, curvy, and just the polar opposite of what I was. I worked so damn hard to unravel that insecurity. By the time I was a mother I had gained so much strength and maturity that I truly felt beautiful just the way I was. I started to value and see the beauty in the things I was born with: the tiny frame, the fast metabolism, the pale skin. I am beautiful, and I finally mean that. I look feminine, graceful, and sexy. I have extremely wide hips and tiny waist. I have soft skin, big eyes, long hair, and a lot of other things I am proud of. And if you want to know a man’s opinion I have men falling all over me and have gotten asked out in public more times than I can count. I’ve been called stunning and “a ten”. I have NEVER had a problem attracting a man. I’ve had to weed out the ones who wanted to fuk me to protect my heart. So of all the ways I could fall short, PHYSICAL BEAUTY was the last one I expected.

He told me has lost attraction to every girl he’s ever dated. He said he could be with Scar Jo (who I now know must be his ideal) and probably lose interest after 6 months. He said he has 99 percent of what he wants with me. HE SAID HE WANTS TO MARRY ME AND HAVE KIDS WITH ME. And yet he can’t let go of searching for that one percent that I am missing. He said he has “grass is always greener” syndrome. I have no words for how much that hurt. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for the knife I have stuck in my heart from this. I KNOW it’s shallow, silly, could be worse, whatever you want to say. But the fact that he sexually desires a physical body that I DO NOT AND NEVER WILL HAVE really really fking HURTS. What’s worse, he had just had a discussion 5 days prior (in retrospect it all makes sense) about my breasts. They are destroyed from pregnancy, still beautiful in shape but very deflated and pretty much an A cup. He made a comment that “I could always go get them done.” I was horrified and hurt but I had a mature discussion with him that my body is not perfect and the stretch marks and imperfect breasts make me feel like a mother and make me feel real and that is beautiful to me. He cried then too and apologized and said I have a level of maturity and inner beauty that he wants to work towards for himself.

What. the actual. Fuk. This man who willingly, without any pressure from me, told his entire family that he is thinking of moving up here to be with me, and who looked me in the eyes and said he wants to marry me, and that he needs me, and that I have made him believe in love, is telling me I don’t have the body he wants.

That makes me feel like running away forever. It feels humiliating. I have never felt so inadequate, jealous, or hurt in my life.

He told me he wanted to think it over and talk to his closest family about it (also humiliating for me after being at the beach with them days ago and now they will be judging my body as well and hearing from MY MAN that is not attracted to me. Very emabarrassing). I told him I could not put my body, mind and heart on standby. And that I feel gorgeous. And that if he doesn’t agree then he’s either not ready for me, or not right for me.

I hope I did the right thing.