Many thoughts have raced around my head since discovering my other half was following a slew of barely legal sexy Instagram accounts and downloading porn. We’d been together a few years. He hadn’t been all that interested in sleeping with me in the last couple, but now I knew I never stood a chance. I mean, approaching a flesh-and-blood woman you’ve just talked to about a savings plan or instant gratification from a 20-year-old with a come-on expression in her artfully composed selfie? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
I tried to talk to him about his needs, but no luck. After asking him about his preferences: “I don’t need anyone but you. I don’t need this stuff.” After finding his porn stash: “A leftover habit from a previous unloving relationship. Won’t happen again.” After finding it again and making clear I’d leave him if this wasn’t addressed: “I’ll think about it.” Worse still, he claims he turned to porn because I was such a strong woman who made it difficult for him to approach me.
I am fit, I am feisty, I am fun. Most of all, I am real. But he doesn’t want to explore me. The internet is built for men, like a never-ending hall of mirrors, reflecting and distorting their fantasies from all angles, all the time. My man got lost in this, and I don’t think he can get out without help. I feel sorry for him and sad for what we lost.
He hasn’t physically cheated on me, yet I feel betrayed. So this is goodbye. I wonder how many men are left who can manage temptation or at least talk about it honestly. Next time, I’ll check out their Insta habits before I go on that date.
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