My SA vs My Pubes

I was reading the pube thread. It brought up some stuff for me. One of the most hurtful things my SA said to me was that he “unfortunently preferred all the 30 strippers’ vaginas” over mine. Why? because they were all waxed.

This was during some of the darkest days of his hidden relapse last year. His further explaination at the time was, “While I have said that I didn’t care on how you presented your hair, which is true, I do quite like the ‘brazilian’ look. Having said that, I did like how you had some hair, its just I have a slight preference for hair free. As for inside the lips and everything, yours would be the better one, because I never saw that part on any of the strippers, whereas I did with yours.”

Ick… I knew there was no love or respect for my body then, it was proof for me that he never did. It hurt so much, and I remember dying inside as a woman that night. I sat on the couch wrapped in my pink blanket crying, cold and shaking to the early hours of the morning. I was also purely shocked that I had even just had this type of conversation in my relationship.

I honestly hated myself, I felt there was so much wrong with my body. All the self-blame thoughts flooded me, maybe if I had been waxed all that time none of this would have happened, etc. (I certainly now know this wouldn’t have made a difference to his addiction).

Ironically, the day before I first found his hidden 700 video porn collection, I had actually, of all days, decided to finally wax for fun, as in for me to feel/look nicer… But because I didn’t straight away tell him about the discovery since I was confused on how to even address it, I kept my pain to myself and finishing waxing turned out being actually extremely cathartic that second day, ripping the wax off myself and everytime saying “Fuck you, you motherfucker!” to him in my mind. It sounds crazy, but I was already half done and I needed to finish the rest.

Anyway, the moment when I KNEW my body meant nothing to him, is a moment I’ll never forget. It was the biggest WTF moment and confirmation he was SICK and NOT HUMAN. To him, I was/am just “parts”, nothing at all special. Oddly enough, I also found that with his webcam sex, he actually kept a scoreboard of body parts he had interacted with on camera, not women, but body parts. Isn’t that twisted?

So after I died on the couch that evening, I wrote the nastiest vilest most vicious email to him I have ever composed – all about his physical flaws. I never even had issues with his looks before – I had always loved him because he was him. But every possible thing I turned into a negative. I made most of them up, just to hurt him and shame him like he did me. Even though it was mean-spirited – an act from a deeply wounded spirit – six months on, I can now actually look back on this insanity and feel PROUD of myself for kicking ass, even though I was intense pain and it’s not reflective of the normal nice-hearted person I am inside…

I had emailed him with:

“You’re disgusting. I hate you. You were never anything, nothing close to anything. You were nothing in my life, your were nothing. I feel you raped me. I feel sick, I hope I goddamn die tonight. I hate you. You liar. You fucking sick cheap stingy selfish fuck. Your perverted lying bastard. Your balls have lumps, your “penis” stinks and tastes foul like it’s rotten, your foreskin is a fucking freak, you’re long pubic hair is everywhere all over the apartment, your breasts are almost a B cup and you should book yourself in for a mammogram, your breath always reeks, your chin is non-existent, your feet are scab infected and have a constant stench, your nose is a fucking ski slope like it’s been chopped off, your teeth are a yellow stained wreck, you have more stretch marks than a pregnant woman, your skin on your face is full of craters, and you stink of BO. Our first kiss was disgusting, I think back to it and cringe. You never knew how to kiss. You never gave me an orgasm with sex. You’ve never given any woman an orgasm. You cannot provide for a family, you’re incapable, you’re not a real man. “Unfortunately”.

His response was:

“Wow. You asked me to tell you the truth, and my answer came down to being something as minimal as pubic hair, nearly everything else was in your favour. All the things you mentioned about me in your second paragraph, makes me think that you were never attracted to me in the first place. Also I do pick up on some things which I would consider lies, because you had told me that my foreskin looks fine, that I wasn’t overweight and you didn’t care about how I looked, that I had made you orgasm. I’m sorry that what I said really hurt you, but it is literally down to pubic hair, and I didn’t hate it on you.. What you have said to me is very confronting, and it really does make me question a lot more things now, because I never believed you would have thought those things, but they were obviously on your mind.”

Oh boy, welcome to my world, asshole!

I replied with:

“Feel nice? Is it the truth or is it a lie? Well, you’re the master of lies, figure it out yourself. Keep questioning, I hope you do for the rest of your entire life, every day, every aspect of everything of 9 years. You’ve only had a minimal dose of the shit you’ve done to me. What does tasting a tiny touch of your own medicine feel like? Absolutely I ask for the truth, but it doesn’t mean because it’s the truth it’s not highly disturbing and distressing. It’s not “pubic hair”, it’s my most private intimate part of myself I gave specially and only to you, my femininity, a sacred part of my life. You are so shallow. You chose strangers vaginas over your partner of 9 years, your lover and best friend, your real sexual partner, your future wife and mother of your child. I gave you the most special and private part of my body. Do you not understand?! You prefer strangers “unfortunately”?!? Thanks a lot. It’s unbelievable. It’s not “minimal”. How can anyone say that??! You really have no humanness to you, you see everyone as objects, you saw my body as an object. So worthless to you and underneath strangers. Strippers of all people. It proves you had no connection to me and can’t see or feel anything special in real life. The fact you can even reduce me, your partner of 9 years, to “pubic hair”, cut my vagina up to little pieces and then act as though it’s meaningless is mentally insane. There is something severely wrong with you. You are so far out of reality. Too far. Frightening far. You should feel frightened, because you’re extremely beyond the point of no return. Your mind is too warped and reduced to mush. You can’t be saved. I pity you. I feel sick and I have all night. I went into shock and was cold shaking for 4 hours. While you were sleeping. You ruined me. You monster. You are toxic and a demon inside. I was manipulated to give myself to you. I feel raped by you. I wish you had never touched me.”

Pretty sure all that went completely over his head!

Six months after though, he now currenly looks in the mirror and says he’s so self-concious about his ski-slope nose and non-existent chin. It makes him depressed just thinking about it. Boo hoo! I love it when he tells me about it, I think he wants me to feel guitly now, but I don’t, I feel GOOD about it. Even though it pales in comparison to the body image issues his addiction has given me, I am glad that I inflicted some lasting crap on him.

I’m not caring at the moment about my status of hair below, as I have no sex life and don’t plan to anytime soon, so I can just not bother for the time being. However, I do think all the porn images, naked women on nudist beaches, stripper flashbacks, and his icky words, will probably make me feel very uncomfortable ever being naked around a man in the future without being waxed. I do prefer it anyway, but I also think it is quite sad at the same time that it now would seem like a necessity for me.