I was in a four years relationship with someone, and the first two years felt like paradise everything was perfect. But after those two years, things started to change. He began insisting on sex, and it became all he could think about. I refused him repeatedly, but he wouldn’t stop bringing it up. To be honest, I have deep trauma from my past. Physical intimacy has always been extremely difficult for me.
I start shivering and experience intense anxiety whenever someone gets too close. I told him everything about my past, hoping he would understand. But instead of supporting me, he kept pressuring me, saying that sex is a “basic requirement” in a relationship. After months of this, we eventually broke up. Around the same time, my college placements were approaching, and I was under immense pressure.
I was struggling to clear the rounds and kept failing repeatedly. Out of desperation, I started talking to random male students for guidance, but many of them made it clear that they expected something in return sex. The fear of being unemployed was eating me alive, and in a moment of weakness, I said yes to one of them. But when the moment actually came, I couldn’t go through with it.
I panicked and ended up ghosting him. During this difficult period, my ex contacted me again, wanting to patch things up. On a call, I told him that I had slept with someone for the sake of my placements, just to push him away. I told him I wasn’t a “good girl” and that he should leave me alone. But a few months later, he asked to meet in person. When we met, we fought a lot, and I broke down crying.
Even in that moment, all he cared about was sex. When I refused, I told him I was on my period, hoping he would stop insisting. But instead, he asked me to prove it. He wanted to check. I was devastated. I cried even more and tried to explain that I never actually had sex with anyone during my placements, but he refused to believe me. That night, at 2 AM, on a road, he called me a prostitute and an attention seeker.
Then he left me there, alone, in a city where I didn’t even live. I had to take a bus to return home, and on that journey, I was molested. Months later, he started blackmailing me, threatening to send my nudes to my father. He called me to a hotel, and out of fear, I went. We had drinks, and I was on his lap when he started touching me in ways that made me deeply uncomfortable.
I was heavily intoxicated because, to be honest, I could never even think of being intimate while sober. I don’t remember everything that happened that night, but I remember the pain. It was unbearable. And that’s my Confession.
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