I have to keep this relatively brief since I’m at work, but I wanted to at least start the conversation since I am struggling more than I ever have in my life and I need to reach out and for help. I am happy to provide additional detail to anyone who needs it. Just as a preface to all of this, there are things in here I have never told a soul (not even my therapist, which needs to change) and I am deeply ashamed about a lot of it.

Basically, I have come to terms with the fact that I have struggled with intimacy/closeness in my life, particularly in my relationships with men. My parents were extremely conservative/religious growing up and also homeschooled me until I was in high school. Sex and physical engagement was a sin and I never was exposed to much of that in my life until arriving in “real school.” After this point, my relationships with me were binary – “hooking up” with men I was attracted to/found sexual and being in relationships with guys I wasn’t usually attracted to but who were really into me. This all culminated in my 7-year marriage with a close male friend who I knew had had/was having sex with men but somehow convinced me that he was in love with me. Long story short: we became bickering roommates with zero sex life. I also denied and repressed what little sexuality he did have towards me, and being a moldable/unsure person, he allowed me to do that. We never had sex but I would shame him for wanting to. It was almost as if his confusion allowed me to impress on him some idea of what I wanted male sexuality to be: non-threatening, non-expressive. In short, just like I perceived mine to be.

Fast forward until a few years ago when I began experiencing profound and deep attraction to other men. I was honest about it to my now ex husband but he convinced me that it didn’t mean anything. After a bit of time of endless arguing, crying and excessive drinking, we agreed to have an “open marriage” and we both began going out with other people. He saw maybe 2 guys and I ended up seeing/sleeping with 5 or 6. Most were purely physical until I met my now boyfriend.

While I didn’t have instant attraction to him, I felt something deep and visceral–like he had a piece I’d been missing. We had kind of a whirlwind first few weeks, and realizing that I not only felt sexual but also romantic towards this new person, I broke it off with my husband and moved out. I was worried about diving right into something new (and he was understandably worried that I wasn’t ready for it), but I didn’t want to lose this connection I felt so strongly about. We said and felt really intense things right away and our

Over the next year or so, I spent a lot of time trying to sort through the pieces of my past – both logistically and emotionally. I began going to weekly therapy, talking more honestly with friends and family and doing a lot of self-reflection. I really struggled in my relationship, though – although I often never let him see what was going on. Even though he was clearly infatuated with me, I was extraordinarily jealous of his female friends and interests and was convinced he was constantly looking at other women. I also discovered he watched porn pretty early on and it was like something punched me in the face. I didn’t know how to make sense of it as it felt like watching other women do and be things that I could never emulate. I began snooping on his computer and phone almost as a security blanket. Somehow if I didn’t find something, my fears would *temporarily* disappear. This was Ok on his phone as I never found anything from the present that was suspicious or threatening but on the computer I’d stumble across porn links, which would make me literally feel sick to my stomach. My self esteem would fall so low, it would be difficult to say anything without crying. He would see me upset in some of these moments, but I’d never be honest about what happened or what I was feeling.

Partly because I think I was trying to somehow control the above feelings of devastation but also because I didn’t really have a fully formed sexual identity, I found myself pretty wrapped up in trying to be a perfect sexual object for me (whatever THAT means). I bought lots of outfits, tried and said new things in bed, sent him dirty texts and pictures. I felt so disingenuous and fake a lot of the time, but other times, it gave me a great feeling – of being in control, of being able to somehow keep him from liking anyone else or watching porn.

Over time, our sex life evened a bit and we actually both starting enjoying it a lot more. We got to know each other bodies better and some of the act/performance aspects faded away. Right around this time (about 5 months ago), i was very ill and physically ravaged so I couldn’t really keep up my appearance for a bit. As some of those walls went down, I was actually less jealous related to other women (those thoughts had been more quick in passing) but I could not stop thinking about the porn. Knowing that he might move in at some point, I decided to say something. While tearful, i was honest, saying that it made me feel insecure and left out and like a wedge between us. I felt so relieved for being honest afterwards and he was both upfront and open to talking, but ultimately, i didn’t feel better. I still thought about it ALL the time – if he was home for an hour, I’d assume he had done that, if we didn’t have sex one night, I’d worry, if we were doing something in bed, I would wonder what porn star he was picturing. I even would start smelling/feeling the tissues in the trashcan at his place or mine – if they smelled a certain way, I would try to figure out where he was masturbating and whether he was watching porn. Naturally, I didn’t share a lot of these details with him.

The topic of him watching porn came up about 5 more times in the few months following. My obssesions/compuslve checking continued and actually began to get even worse. I’d even start scanning the physical environment for additional “clues” – placement of the computer, placement of headphones, whether a certain browser had been opened. In the past month or so, I’ve become so obsessed that sometimes I can’t think about anything else at work, etc. Some days, “knowing” that he would get the most sexual mid-day, I would come home from work to have sex with him, thinking that that would stop him from watching porn.

About 3 weeks ago, I decided that the fact that I thought about this so much meant that i hadn’t communicated with him properly. I told myself that I was justified in not wanting it to be part of a relationship of mine and that I would be totally forthcoming with him and give him a choice of how to proceed. I wrote a six page letter explaining how this activates a fear of abandonment, makes me feel excluded from my partner’s intimate life, etc., etc. While almost all of it was honest, I really struggled with the conclusion. Did i have a right to ask him to stop? Ultimately, i decided yes.

I gave him the letter. While he was upset at first, he promised me that he could give me that certainty and that i deserved it. This was not something he was proud of or felt good about.

Well, as you can probably guess, I haven’t felt any better. I have continued to smell the tissues and even to look at his computer. I even went so far as to notice that he had turned back on history on a certain browser but seemed to still have cookies from adult sites. However, at the urging of my therapist and my sister, I have been trying to control these and just “not do it,” and I had been experiencing some success just making a decision to not think about, not question him and not check.

Two days ago, after a really great weekend in which I was able to really support him in a big art show that didn’t go as well as he wanted, everything just escalated to a point that made me realize I have a serious, serious problem and need help. I had the day off on Monday to just relax after his show. We had an amazing day – even making each other orgasm in a new way, watching movies, playing tennis, laughing. That night, after getting in bed a bit late, he asked me if I could touch him the same way I had done that morning. I joked “that’s a lot of pressure” but I really meant it. Somehow, I felt like I couldn’t be as successful under pressure or something. Anyway, I started doing it and he just kept correcting me (up, down, harder, softer). I’m good at taking some direction, but for some reason, I felt completely under fire. Then, he told me it was hurting and started “taking over himself.” I literally completely lost it, jumped up from bed and started yelling about how I felt like shit and inadequate and was never going to get better.

When I woke up Tuesday/yesterday morning, I felt like someone had slapped me from a deep sleep. I realized that it doesn’t matter what porn I tell him not to watch or how “good” I am in bed, that ultimately, I can’t trust myself in this relationship and I don’t know how to trust him either. I spent most of the afternoon sobbing – first alone and then to him. I apologized to him for being so mean and disrespectful. I then proceeded to fall apart. Honestly, part of me kind of hoped he would break up with me and just end my pain, but he basically figured me out and told me he wasn’t going to let me go.

I have talked to my therapist about everything except for the tissue smelling – I guess I’ve been embarrassed to say it out loud – but outside of coming clean to her, I simply don’t know where to go from here. I adore my boyfriend and want this to work so badly but I feel like I have been somehow paralyzed by fear. I cannot go more than a few hours without thinking about this stupid porn and even as contrite and disappointed as I feel right now, I STILL feel angry thinking about him watching it.

What can I do? Can I/this relationship be saved? I am so sad, embarrassed and hopeless, and I don’t know what to do 🙁