DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER: It should be noted that the content of this Blog is not intended as inflammatory. It is my life story, but no harm is intended by its content whatsoever. I have a strict "No Slander" policy. Most of the content is purely of my own personal opinion of my life experiences, but mentions of criminal actions I have evidence for. Any thing from Cherie's life, I take from her friends, her family and her diaries, not myself. Thank you in advance for your understanding.

Sunday 3 September 2017

What Defines Me? (The Consequences Of A Rash Choice: Part Two)

I have been struggling for weeks now, to find my words. I am not sure I have even found them yet. But, I promised a friend that I would try, so here I am, typing away and just hoping that my heart can speak through my typing fingers.

I am struggling, because I made a choice that I think the best way to describe would be that I am regretting. I am unaccustomed to feeling regret. One of the things that makes me, me, is the fact that I have a strict "No regrets. Ever.” policy. What do you do? How do you move on when something in your life has changed the very foundations of your identity?

- - - - 

I fell for the lies and the deceit. He got what he wanted, he did what no other man could; he bedded me. I lost something utterly precious and irreplaceable to someone utterly undeserving, and it hurts so, so much.

I was supposed to be the girl that saved herself for marriage, that only made love to one person in her entire life (consensually, of course; the others do not count), and grew old with that one person, happily-ever-after. My virginity was something I always described as being the ultimate “gift” for my future husband, and he would be so grateful and so happy to have me all his own…

…. And, for a while, I had that. But then the drug (love) high wore-off and reality sunk-in. Over a period of months, I began to discover that not only had my partner not changed in-the-slightest since our first relationship, but in many ways, he was worse. And, for a second time, he was ruining me; but this time in ways that could never be mended nor undone.

- - - - 

When we parted ways, I asked him why he did it. He knew that he had not changed, and I was moving on with my life. Why did he encourage us to try again? Why tell me he loved me? Why ask me to marry him? His answer was something that shocked and disgusted me, and will take some time to forgive…

He basically confessed that he knew he was deceiving me and that he did it because I am such a good person, because I would make such a good wife, because I bring out the best in him, etc. He risked hurting me, because he knew I was good for him. He wanted me. That was all that mattered. I wonder, now, whether he truly loved me at all, because, surely, if he did, he would not be so selfish. Sometimes, love is letting someone go… But he wouldn’t let me go. He lied and deceived me and manipulated me in to loving him again, and convinced me that he was my last hope at happiness, that I was “getting old” and needed to settle-down. He was selfish and uncaring, and I cannot emphasise enough how that is not the man that I fell in love with. Clearly he was desperate for love, and  - as a love addict - I cannot fault him for that… but it does not change what he did.

- - - - 

As a Christian, I am told that sex outside of wedlock is punishable by your soul burning for all eternity… Thankfully, I do not believe in Hell, but I do believe in God, and I feel like I have let-Him-down, like I have finally - for the first time in my short existence – done something that I need to ask forgiveness for.

I last posted about the fact that Robert and I were “taking a break” to try and mend our (not legally binding) marriage, but two weeks (or maybe longer… it certainly feels like forever…) ago, we decided to “call-it-quits”. It was the hardest decision I have had to make since I yelledand insulted Mark so that he would hate me and move on with his life, back in 2012 or 2013 (I think). I realised that marriage should not be this difficult, and, more importantly, the problems that we had were not ones that I could fix, nor was I a part of them, and that they were causing me mental, emotional, and even physical pain.

It was at a point where I had to be rushed to the A&E with a serious case of dehydration and malnourishment. My body was rejecting every attempt at eating and drinking, by regurgitating it straight away, for several days, and I had to be put on a “drip” and given several prescription medications in-order to help mend the damage that the stresses had caused.

The stresses were still there, though, and they were not going away. My “husband” was not a husband. He was lazy, inconsiderate, unfeeling, and worst of all, a compulsive liar and thief. I loved him so, so much and I always will, in many ways, but he made almost no attempts to change, no matter how much I pleaded, and when you are literally hospitalised from the stress your partner is causing, it is time to take a step back and realise that enough is enough: time to say goodbye.

- - - - 

But, I made a commitment. I married him. Not legally, mind-you, but my head and heart and soul all believed it to be true. I said my vows, in front of dozens of my friends (over Facebook Live), and my God. And then, I did my wifely duty, and gave myself to him. I “swiped my V Card”, as-they-say.

The experience was not an unpleasant one. He was kind, slow, respectful, and understanding of my bad experiences. For the first time, anyway. The times after that, much less-so. I guess that until I experience sex with anyone else, I will not know whether the experience was awkward and lacking much pleasure for me because of me, or because of him. He certainly claimed to have had enough lovers and to have greatly pleased them all, but then, many men and women make this claim, and let us be honest, he is a compulsive liar. Time shall tell…

- - - - 

I keep going over my “wedding night” in my head. Over and over again, I realise that so much of me was against going through with it. I was just so, so desperate to get my “Happily Ever After”, so in need of love that I ignored the signs. I had an ache in my stomach telling me no, I cried tears in the bathroom by myself before I came to the bed. When he held my hand and asked me if I was ready, I was thinking “no” but saying “yes”. Worst of all, I wanted him to be someone else. I was thinking about being with someone else and asking myself if I was giving myself to the wrong guy.

Fast-forward six months (wow, has it really been that long? Or that short? It feels like forever, and yet only yesterday…), and here I am, single again, and virgin-no-more. What does this mean for me now? Do I wait for marriage again? Or is that different now that I do not have this “gift” to give? I am scared that not being a virgin will matter to my future partner, even though people tell me that it will not. I guess I am really, really old-fashioned.

- - - - 

My virginity, my innocence, my purity, all these things were so precious to me and were such a huge part of me, and he took that all from me and I can never get it back… So what defines me now? I feel utterly lost! Only time will tell, I guess…

I am going to start by taking some space to try to find myself again, as a single, independent woman. I have charity events to organise, and even a huge, huge business idea that “took a back-burner” when I became a housewife. Will my cafĂ© become a reality? We shall see… And what will be my defining trait, now I am not a virgin any more? Perhaps I have it all wrong. Perhaps the virginity was not what defined me, but rather the innocence and the heart behind it. Losing your virginity does not mean losing innocence. Not really. I still believe in unicorns and talk to animals and sing and dance spontaneously, after all! And the “hapless romantic” in me that wanted to give that gift, she is still there. Maybe that is what I need to concentrate on.


Whatever I choose, I do know that I have friends who are here for me through this difficult transition, and that I will (theoretically) come through it. I always do…