Share your scary rejection stories here

A lot of people I’m not going to link to find it hard to believe that women fear men, that we worry that a man we don’t know well might be from that small minority who’d kill us to preserve his ego. They find it especially hard to believe any woman would ever submit to sex she doesn’t want for fear that if she says no, he’ll use violence to rape her anyway.

So share your stories in this thread. If you don’t want to use your usual handle, feel free to post under another name or “anonymous” or something safe. [ETA: don’t use an email address that has your Gravatar attached! Just make up a phony email, it’s okay.] You can also share stories others have told you. I just want a big collection of these so people have a page to point to whenever the questions arise.


  1. Zero says

    I’ve got several of those stories. In fact, I think I have a stalker. I tried to be friends with the dude, but that wasn’t good enough for him. Last year, I cursed him out and told him to never come back to my house. He had been touching me inappropriately, trying to kiss me, saying disgusting sexual things, etc. He even went so far as to lie about having a vasectomy (I had told him that, aside from not being attracted to him, I wasn’t on birth control, and that was one of many reasons why I would never have sex with him). I know he was lying because, a few weeks later, he started saying weird shit about how I should have his baby, and how that is what I was made for.

    So, I ran the bastard off, but he keeps popping up at the same places I go (usually the grocery store). He has told me, multiple times, that he detests grocery shopping, and he would never even go in to the store with me, when we were still friends. So, I know he’s just following me. I’m honestly not afraid of him; I’m afraid of myself. I’m getting angrier & angrier every time I see his stupid, goofy face. He needs to stop following me and get a fucking life, or the shit is gonna hit the fan HARD.

  2. this time I'm anon says

    I am very lucky as I never was in that situation, but one of my best friends got date-raped by the guy she was seeing then. They had already had sex a few times but she had seen some red flags in him and was thinking to leave him, then at the end of one date he wanted sex and she was afraid to say no. Long story short she ended up getting a restraining order against him but the college where they both were studying did not expell him; she ended up changing.

  3. Anon says

    I only have one story (thank goodness). I was 18, young and pretty naive. I went out with some friends and had been dancing with a friend of a friend (he was 21). He turned on the charm pretty quick and hard and I could tell he liked me (or at least liked the look of me). Long story short, I agreed to go out on a date with him. Half because it would’ve been my “first real date” and half because my friends were saying “come on, he likes you, just give the guy a chance”. The date was fine, we went to the movies. He tried to get handsy during the movie but I held his hand pretty tightly on the arm rest pretending I was really interested in the movie. I didn’t have a bad time, but there was no way I wanted to go out with him again nor be his girlfriend. I had met him at the movies so I was able to leave on my own terms after the movie, ending the night with just a thank you. A couple of days later he called me asking me out again, saying lots of sweet things, telling me how much he had loved spending time with me. Being in the safety of my home and on the phone, I outright told him (still politely mind you) no, sorry I’m not interested in going out again. This flicked a switch and he went absolutely ballistic. Swearing, yelling and calling me pretty vile things. I put on my loudest, bravest voice and told him to never call me again and I hung up. I then burst into tears, out of shock. I was so glad I listened to and trusted myself. And so glad he did not know where I lived.

  4. Maria says

    I actually have a lot. Here are three from the last two years.

    1. I was walking home at night from a study session/dinner date with friends. A Latino guy came up to me, following me really closely. That section of the sidewalk was really tight because of construction, so not only could traffic not see me, it was a narrow corridor with no possibility of hiding or darting into a building. He grabbed my arm, and asked if he could get a drink with me. I tried to laugh him off (letting someone down “gently” can be a life or death skill) and he tightened his grip, and asked if I was saying no because he was Latino. At this point, I laughed a little louder and said I was Latin as well, stalling while I panicked, and then said really calmly that my angry boyfriend got off work in 20 minutes. I saw him palm away a knife at that point, and he grudgingly let me go.

    2. I had one guy at the grocery store follow me around for an hour asking if I would make him dinner. He did this every time I went to the grocery store for a month, and then I realized it wasn’t a happy coincidence: he was stalking me, and trying to figure out where I lived.

    3. One time while I was on the phone with my niece, whose dog was dying of cancer, a guy got mad at me because I wouldn’t hang up the phone and talk to him, so he moved to block me from the line of sight of the bus driver and said that light skinned bitches bleed easy.

    Maria: I’m on the phone with my NIECE whose DOG is DYING of CANCER. You are NOT that important.
    Guy: ::continues to be menacing::
    Maria: ……
    Maria: Are you going to move or am I going to have to MAKE you move?
    Guy: …WHAT? You’re the one being RUDE to ME.
    Maria: I said, Are you going to move or am I going to have to MAKE you move? Because I am NOT sitting next to you. Interrupting phone conversations and shit. You’re crazy… but guess what? I might be CRAZIER. Wanna find out?

    A really good, solid bluff can be life saving too.

  5. Cheryl says

    February ’10, I was in my hometown visiting friends and family over the weekend and spent most of Sunday with Joe, a guy I’d recently reconnected with via Facebook after losing touch with him for several years. I had a bit of a crush on him and hoped something might develop between us in the future. I didn’t have a car, so I was dependent on my parents to get me around. Joe, a chef, said he’d cook us dinner that night, and for various reasons it didn’t get going until late, so the guy said rather than have my parents come pick me up and me miss eating (my parents go to bed early), I could crash on the sofa. Okay, fine. Sounds like a plan. I call the ‘rents and ask if they’d be awesome enough to drop my bag off at Joe’s, and they did.

    After Joe and I ate, we decided to put in a movie. His roomie had a Large television in the living room, so I thought we were going to watch it out there, but Joe decided to watch it in his room. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with that, because I wanted to keep the evening PG-13, but I assumed the chances of him thinking sex was a possibility were low because a) we’d met through a rather conservative church, so I figured he had a clue my own views on sex outside of marriage were on the ‘not happening’ end of the spectrum, b) sex wasn’t something we’d ever discussed, and c) he’d brought sleeping on the sofa up on his own earlier, which I took to indicate he saw things in a platonic light. For all those reasons, I didn’t bring up taking it out into the living room and flopped down on his bed next to him.

    It wasn’t too long into the movie when he made a move to kiss me, which I was totally down with. I was not down with his attempts to put his hand up my shirt, or anything else he was trying to do, and I told him that while trying to stop him from feeling me up. He laid some extremely lame lines on me (including something about how hard I made him, which I had to make an effort not to laugh at) and made me touch his penis. I kept saying I didn’t want things to move to fast; please, stop; Joe, stop, I don’t want to. While I’m telling him that, I’m trying to stop his hands from going into my jeans and up my shirt. I was trying to be nice about it while still being firm because I didn’t want to risk being rude and killing my chances with him (and I feel so incredibly stupid, in hindsight, for wanting to be nice about telling him to stop).

    He didn’t, and I finally ended up giving him head, reasoning maybe that would be enough for him and he wouldn’t push me for anything else. By the time he came, the credits were rolling and he had to get up for work the next morning, so he decided to go to sleep. I was tired, too, so I just stayed where I was. At some point, we both woke up and he was horny again, so with the same mentality as before, I gave him head again.

    A week or two went by after that in which I didn’t hear anything from him, so I finally called him to find out what the heck was going on inside his head about what had happened and if he had any interest in me as more than a friend (it seemed to me that he wouldn’t have pushed for sex if there wasn’t at least a little interest on his part). When he said he saw sex like scratching an itch and that it hadn’t meant anything to him, it was all I could do to hold it together long enough to get off the phone before losing it. I felt so incredibly cheap and used, and once that passed, Pissed As Hell he’d completely ignored me and kept pushing to get laid.

    It took me two-and-a-half years to report my sexual assault to the police. Under the law, what happened falls under sexual misconduct, and I’d reported outside the statute of limitations, so no charges could be filed (I would have if I’d been able to).

  6. TheTruthisUgly says

    I have a temp job right now in a victim assistance office at my city’s police department, and I’ve had ample opportunities to look over the reports for domestic incidents. The most common thing I see, other than arguments, are reports of men hitting/slapping/punching/kicking women (alcohol is often involved). One guy got physical because he doesn’t like it when she disagrees with him. Men giving their baby mamas trouble, verbal and physical, is par for the course as well.

    Men do not react well to be rejected. Physical assault isn’t an uncommon reaction when a woman wants to end it. The worst case of a man taking rejection badly happened earlier this year. The victim, who I’ll call Jill, had been estranged from her husband when she took up with Jack. At some point before the incident on the report, Jill had told Jack she’d decided to get back together with her husband. Jack, to put it mildly, didn’t take the news well. IIRC, he began slapping and punching. I believe it was Jill who called 911 for the police, but it could have been a neighbor who heard Jill screaming. Whoever did it, when the officer showed up at the home, he shouted he was coming in and tried to open the front door but it was locked. He kicked in the door and saw signs of a struggle that went from the front door, over to the stairs, and then up the stairs. There were clumps of long human hair, which led the officer to believe the hair had been pulled from the victim’s head. He went upstairs and found Jack had been holding Jill captive in one of the bedrooms. It was clear from Jill’s appearance she’d been worked over, and she was missing hair from her head in spots. I believe there was a knife mentioned in the report at least once, and Jacl’s reason for going postal on Jill was that he couldn’t let her go. The situation resolved with Jack being arrested and Jill (IIRC) being taken to a local hospital for exam and treatment. I haven’t looked at the homicide files yet, but I plan to at some point. I’m waiting for the day when I go in and hear that a guy murdered the girlfriend who was trying to leave him or an ex he’d been an ongoing problem for.

    Ex’s regularly violate Orders of Protection. That’s par for the course, a woman getting an OoP and the person (usually a man) showing up where she’s living and giving her shit. Whenever I see ‘criminal contempt’ among the charges, I know it’s probably a guy who violated an OoP. One report today mentioned that the guy who’d violated the OoP said something to the effect of he didn’t care if the victim had an OoP or not.

    Working in this office and seeing the reports has made the fact men are overwhelmingly the abuser very real to me. I never doubted it in the past, but looking over reports and seeing the same thing over and over and over…it’s not numbers in a chart or lines on a graph, it’s narrative about what went down between a suspect and their victim. Almost without fail, if the victim is a female, she called the police because she was being harassed and/or assaulted by her boyfriend/husband/ex/baby daddy. If the victim’s a male, he was mugged, jumped, or some other crime that isn’t domestic violence. There are the occasional cases where women do get physical or smash up the guy’s car because they’re pissed at him, but women attacking men is much less common.

  7. Amy McCabe says

    I went out on a date to the mall in high school with this guy; he was a senior, I was a junior. He kept trying to kiss me on the neck or or try to push my shirt out of the way to kiss my chest. In the mall. On the first date. I kept telling him no but he kept replying back “You know you want this” or “You’re just saying that.” I actually began moving away from him, then walking away, then down right running. He kept chasing after me. I was looking, at that point, for a security guard or my mother (in retrospect, I find it disturbing that no one stepped forward). Finally I found my mother and we left.

    Later he called me and was very demanding. He wanted to see me again. I said no. He said we were going on another date. I told him I never wanted to speak with him again. Finally he said “I’ll let you finish your project [I was doing something for school] and I’ll call you back later.” I told him not to call me back. He hung up.

    Later he called back and I told him if he calls my house again, I was calling the police. If tried to talk to me or even came near me, I was contacting the police.

    I never heard from him again. I cannot tell you how thankful I was we were at the mall, and not a more private place. I was seriously afraid he was going to try to rape me.

  8. Amy McCabe says

    Years ago I worked at a Stewarts (this is a chain in NY that is an ice cream/convenience store/gas station. We would have at least one guy stalking one of us at a time. The store didn’t want to discourage customers from coming (or some such bullshit) and really didn’t want have the police coming, so we had to handle it ourselves. (Worse, under one manager, if the guy was really disruptive we’d get in trouble for it. That manager was eventually fired for other reasons.)

    We basically handled it by hiding (or having the victim hide) in the back room or large walk-in fridge, which the non-target tried their best to keep the guy both calm and away from the person in question. These guys would get REALLY demanding and would sometimes start screaming at the person who was trying to protect the girl in question. They’d often demand the person’s phone number and address. We’d have to stay hiding in the back for several minutes or even up to an hour for the guy to leave to get to our car safely. I made up a overly jealous boyfriend that worked at nearby air force base to get rid of my stalker.

  9. anon says

    This story doesn’t end in rape, but it’s another example of violence women learn to be afraid of if they reject a man:

    My friend had recently broken up with her long-term boyfriend; they saw each other for the first time afterward at a friend’s party, and he talked her into “one last dance”. He spent that dance trying to convince her to get back with him, to at least come home with him, to kiss him one more time.

    My friend is strong-willed and knows how to say no, so she did, and she avoided him the rest of the night, and put it out of her mind.

    After the party, he went home and killed himself, leaving a note about how no-one would ever love him, everyone rejected him, and therefore his life was worthless.

    That’s violence too, and that’s given me as much fear about “leading on” a man as rape threats have. I can’t, and don’t want to, be responsible for a man’s life just because I was female and I was nice to him once, but between that friend, and several other male friends (from different friend groups) I knew who threatened suicide in the days after I turned them down for a sexual relationship, I have to see that risk in every romantic interaction with a man.

  10. Amy McCabe says

    Ah, the anon above brings back this one:

    I had a boyfriend in high school that I kept trying to break up with, but he kept threatening to kill himself.

    I was actually relieved when my friends got together and confronted me that he was hitting on all of them and talking “inappropriately” to them, because I knew then that he didn’t really love me and that if I dumped him, he wouldn’t kill himself (and he didn’t).

    • Another Anon says

      Amy McCabe,

      This has happened at my job too. Barista at a coffee shop.

      You know what was funny about that, though? I only started there in April, when they were in the middle of an escalating situation with a stalker we’ll call A. My first night working there, he tried to pull some shit with me. I stayed in view of the cameras, and was so grateful some regulars intervened. The second night, the coworker he was stalking went with him outside, to try and calm him down. Me? I called the cops. It was only after I did that twice that my boss began taking it seriously…. because obviously the stalker fixating on, threatening, and harassing three long term employees wasn’t REALLY serious until another set of men intervened and made it clear it would be PUBLICLY EMBARRASSING for this to continue w/out management intervention.

      Now, here’s the funny part. After working there about 6 months, I got My Very First Coffeeshop Stalker. Hooray for me! He was a coworker who got one day of staring at me threateningly, one shift of trying to force himself into my space, before I told my boss that I would quit if he wasn’t fired. Thankfully he was. You know what some of my other female coworkers did? They teased me, saying I couldn’t have handled working there when A was harassing people — like it was a badge of honor to “handle” a stalker or a sign of weakness to call the police, set appropriate boundaries, etc. Like *I* was the finicky one for not wanting someone to creep on me/sexually harass me at work.

  11. Fabrisse says

    I have two stories. The first is from my “was I ever that dumb” period. I was about 20 and a professor flirted with me. I flirted right back up until I found out he was married. (Yeah, I should have asked or found out sooner. That’s on me.) After that, he didn’t take no for an answer. I finally stopped coming to his class — it was too late to drop it — and he threatened to flunk me if I didn’t sleep with him. I had a friend whom I called and poured my heart out to who helped me threaten him appropriately (“I know his name, and if I don’t see you well and happy I will report him to the dean and the president of the university just for starters.”) so that I got the grade I legitimately earned. Two years later, he was stalking me across continents (my father was military assigned to Europe and he tried to find me both there and stateside). For months, I wasn’t allowed to answer the phone in my house just in case he’d found me.

    More recently, I’m a 50 year old living in an apartment on my own. A guy in the building seems nice, but there’s no chemistry. He won’t stop trying to come into my apartment. I try to avoid him in the lobby — not always possible — and he’ll go for months without trying to contact me. But after he sees me or we end up on the same elevator, he’ll be back at my door trying to come into my home.

  12. Heidi says

    The worst part of my scary rejection stories are the way other people witnessing the situation reacted. A friend and I were out to dinner one night and this guy got incredibly aggressive with us. At first we were nice, saying “No, no thank you,” when he tried to buy us drinks. And then we tried to be firm, though we were still awkwardly laughing (because if you’re a girl, you know that one of our common techniques to diffuse dangerous situations is to smile and not be confrontational). Even after we left the bar and sat down in the attached restaurant, he kept trying to sit at our table and buy us dinner and take over our conversation.

    Finally, after saying no no no no no no no like, 20 times, I put down my foot and very seriously said “Look, dude. You are being incredibly rude right now. We have said no over and over. We mean no. We didn’t come here to see you, we came here to see each other. You need to leave us alone.”

    And his behavior like, 180’d from drunken flirtatiousness to ANGRY, aggressive rudeness. He called me a bitch, got really scary and in my face. And though he left our table, he wouldn’t stop trying to make my friend come home with him and his friend. And I wasn’t sure if he was going to follow us out when we left.

    Now, this is already such a shitty ordeal (and I spent a long time after being uncomfortable and anxious in coed-type situations), but the worst part was how two other men witnessing the situation behaved.

    First the drunk dude’s not-as-drunk friend was NO help. Not once did he try to diffuse the situation or control his friend. He looked obviously uncomfortable and disinterested in participating in his friend’s scary shenanigans, but not once did he tell him to dial it back or to leave our table. He just sat there and smiled awkwardly and then looked away and just let the shit go down. He didn’t even look like a bad guy. In any other setting, I might have thought he was kind of cute. But you know what’s seriously NOT attractive? When you let your drunk best friend try to date rape girls he just met at the bar.

    The other guy that made the situation worse was the manager. THE MANAGER. After we had been harassed for an hour or more, we finally asked the guy manager walking by if he could just help us dissuade the guy from bothering us further. I assumed that the manager was trained in such situations. I told him that the guy wouldn’t stop bothering us and he wasn’t taking no for an answer and it was really scary and aggressive.

    The manager basically scoffed and was like “He just likes you,” and walked away. Like, shouldn’t we be GRATEFUL for this drunk aggressive dude’s affections? He treated us like we were BITCHES for not being grateful. It WAS worse than the drunk guy, because it reminded me that bros have a BRO-hood, and that you might not be able to rely on them to help you, because you’re a suspicious, ungrateful bitch in their eyes.

    Anyway, that’s my most recent awful rejection story. And hell yes, if I was in a situation where I felt like I was at risk of being hurt or killed by some dude, I’d have sex with him. I’d do anything to diffuse the aggressiveness. I’d do anything to live and keep all my teeth. And you know what, it would STILL be rape, because I’m not CONSENTING, I’m SAVING MY GODDAMN LIFE.

    I also want to say, lets not pretend it’s only strangers who do this to us. One of my best male friends since childhood recently tried to force his way into one of our mutual friend’s apartments to rape her after she refused him. They’d been friends for more than 20 years. When I stopped talking to him, he emailed me all angry because I wouldn’t hear “his” side of the story.


  13. sbg says


    Totally hear you re: others’ reactions. One of my own stories is relatively minor, comparatively. Young, naive and dancing at a club, a guy decided I was really into some bumping and grinding (I wasn’t). He was very, very much in my space with his hands all over me and I literally could not get away. A friend was very close and witnessed what was happening as this guy got more and more aggressive with me. So were a good number of other people dancing. The strangers tossed derisive looks at me while I was trying to get out of this man’s hold, as if I were the one misbehaving.

    Eventually, I managed to break from his hold and fled to the ladies room and huddled there for a long enough time my friend finally came to find me. She told me she thought I wasn’t rejecting the guy (!), that I was just dancing with him, giving as well as I was getting. *shudder*

    I mean, really, for as terrified as I’d started to become toward the end about not being able to get away, it was wholly disheartening to realize that my fear was somehow interpreted as encouragement – not only by the man, but by everyone else right there next to me as I was being groped against my will. To this day, the looks of disgust tossed at me from strangers witnessing this are what’s stuck in my head far more than the drunken asshole who was all over me.

  14. Rhiannon Hero says

    I have multiple examples, including one where I had to press sexual harassment charges against my boss in college and another where I was kissed against my will by a client in my early 20s. But the one I’ll talk about today happened about 6 years ago. My friend and I had attended a concert in another city. Afterward, we returned to the hotel we were staying in and were having some drinks in the hotel bar, discussing the show. Two men came over to us and because my friend was single and interested in flirting, I didn’t discourage them from chatting with us. I didn’t encourage them either, I just answered questions when asked, etc. After about five to seven minutes, during which my friend did most of the talking, I mentioned in one of those answers that my husband and I were going on a trip the next month, and holy hell the guy who had been standing next to me went absolutely ballistic. He called me a cunt and a bitch and a slut and yelled, “How dare you have led me on! How dare you have let me think I’d get laid tonight!” And then he stomped off furious. His pal followed. The bartender looked a little surprised but said nothing.

    I suppose one could say that I shouldn’t have felt threatened since he left, but I did. I was shocked by the extreme rage he focused on me, the entitlement of his assumptions, and I was concerned that he would follow us or try to hurt us. I wanted to get back to our room as soon as possible to shut and lock the door to make sure that we were safe.

    Nothing happened beyond that, but it was a scary situation and I was, indeed, scared. I can’t imagine how he’d have behaved if I had been single, had agreed to go to his room, and THEN turned him down.

  15. Copper says

    Yeah, for me it’s the bystanders’ reactions that really rubs it in that this is a rape *culture* and not just ‘some people are horrible for no reason’. My own rejection story is, again, fairly minor but it was an experience that really hammered it in for me that there aren’t that many people I can actually for really real rely on when I need them.

    So it was the fresher’s dance in my first week of university and this dude came up and started talking to me. I thought, this is great! He was kinda cute, I was for once not being awkward and weird and we chatted, maybe kissed a couple times, it was nice. And then we went on the dancefloor and he was way too gropey for my liking but I was willing to let it slide because I was like 18 and didn’t know what boundaries were yet.

    Then he introduced me to his friends, all guys, and they *ever so casually* mentioned they were having an afterparty at their place and would I like to come along? All kinds of alarm bells went off and I told them I’d rather not. They argued with me for a bit but luckily some of the people I came in with wandered past and I dragged them in to help me out. They decided that it would be a fantastic idea to invite the guys back to our place instead.

    Now it was something like 9 vs 1 and there was no way I was gonna win. It was probably OK though, I could dash into my room ASAP and lock the door, right? NOPE. First dude forces himself into my room the moment I open the door and lays himself down on my bed. I keep the door wide fucking open. He plays up like he’s sooooo sleeeeeeepy and can’t he just stay here a while, I tell him no, he can sleep on the couch in the communal area if he wants, he says noooo it’s so comfortable here, I say please leave and this goes on for something like half an hour. The other girls on my floor are no help, because they think he’s really nice and so cute and why don’t I just lighten up a little; meanwhile, he’s still adamant that he’s spending the whole damn night in my bed and I can see where he thinks this is going but I’m tired and I don’t know what else to do and I’m seriously considering locking myself in the toilet and just sleeping in there.

    What it took to get this complete stranger out of my bed was me and my one helpful dorm-mate *physically dragging* him by the legs out of my bed, out of my room and into the corridor, where he stood himself up, called me a bitch and stormed out. Being young and feeling forced to be nice, I actually followed him out and asked *him* not to be mad at *me*. And the worst thing is that this story is not the slightest bit unusual.

    (In hindsight, my only regret is that I didn’t keep in better touch with my saviour when we moved out and that it would probably be weird to contact her now and thank her XD)

  16. Cheryl says

    All the mentions of observers being unsupportive brought to mind something that happened my second year of college. I was living off campus with a family from church, and they were also renting rooms to two other students, both men in their thirties, Ted and Fred (not their real names). Ted and I were both vet science majors, so there was platonic-type bonding over our shared academic trials and travails and how awesome his dog, Nick, was.

    About a month or so after classes started, I was bending over to pet Nick, who’d flopped out in the doorway between the living and dining rooms. Ted passes behind me and it feels like he puts his hand on the top of my butt. To say I was Flipped Out would be an understatement. I told friends what had happened, and buoyed by their indignation over what had happened, I got up the courage to write Ted a note telling him I did not appreciate him touching my butt. He told me he’d put his hand on my lower back, which I didn’t argue with because I didn’t have enough courage and ‘Kiss my ass!’ left and it was possible he’d meant to touch my lower back to let me know he was behind me and actually touched lower.

    A few days later it came out he was interested in me. That, combined with him possibly touching my butt, made me Really Nervous. About a week or so after that, Ted asked if I wanted to go check out a local restaurant with him. I talked to two women I was friends with (both surrogate mother types) about it, figuring that since they’d been upset by the idea of him touching my butt, they’d understand why I was really not comfortable with the idea of going out to dinner with him. To my shock, both of them were like, “Go. It sounds like you’ll have a good time” and not at all understanding that, hello, Ted seriously Freaked Me Out and I wasn’t totally comfortable around him. I did end up going to dinner with him because I didn’t have the spine and resolve then that I do now, and had an extremely hard time saying ‘no’ to friends because I didn’t want them to be mad at me. The evening ended up going fine, but having my concerns poopoo’d by women I believed had my back and my best interests in mind isn’t something I’ve forgotten.

    What all happened with Ted in the months that followed is another story entirely. Suffice it to say he was a learning experience.

  17. Ananda says

    This isn’t physical, but I think it still qualifies. I have a really hard time making these kinds of judgment calls about an ex. He was very controlling in terms of being physically possessive but not violent; he was also extremely manipulative and emotionally controlling. We were on the rocks after our x-month anniversary and he was unhappy about school, in addition to being unhappy that I was no longer available as much since I was working full-time after graduation. I was his only confidante and he was considering suicide but told me not to tell anyone. He also told me that he enjoyed the physical act of sex but felt terrible about it morally; since we both enjoyed it, he could just pretend that everything was fine and we would continue to have sex. I told him that was an awful and insulting idea, and that I would not be having any kind of erotic interaction with him until we sorted things out.
    This was his cue to suggest watching a movie a few days later, ‘just to see.’ We never finished the movie since he started slowly but surely invading my space (we were watching this on a laptop in his dorm room, sitting on his bed) and deliberately doing all of those stereotypical teenage stealth seduction moves. I was annoyed because I was enjoying the movie, but then it occurred to me that perhaps he HAD changed his mind, and anyway, he was under a lot of stress, wasn’t he? And I did love him, so clearly I had to go along with it. We ended up having sex as he said lots of reassurances about how things were different now. I didn’t feel like I could say no and I am still furious at myself that I bought it and pushed aside all my feelings of reluctance and abhorrence. The next day, he felt terrible and couldn’t talk to me despite the fact it had been all his idea; we finally split after 6 weeks of ridiculousness. None of our friends were willing to talk to me about it, or even the more obvious signs from earlier (i.e. I only wore jeans, tshirts & sneakers since he didn’t like it if people paid attention to me in more form-fitting clothes). Now that I can talk about it a bit more objectively, my friends that were not physically around when we were dating all want to glass him repeatedly.

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