I’m Marrying My Long-Distance Boyfriend, Even Though I Know It’s Going To Be Hard

“So, you have my number. Text me.” I wink and turn to walk out the door with my friends into the humid Boston night. I can’t keep the grin off my face. I have a good feeling about this guy, and I just know this is going to be something.

I’ve lost count of how many times that scene played out for me. In my group of friends, I was always the one looking for a relationship. I wanted more than casual dating or a fling. I wanted the Holy Grail: unconditional love. Whether I met a guy in a bar, on the street, online, or through friends, I always thought it was going to become something. But it never did. From the time I was 18 until the time I was 28, none of these interactions never ended up leading to the great love that I was endlessly searching for.

When I finally found it, I thought my whole world was going to explode in hearts and rainbows and flowers, and for a time, it did. But I never expected that searching for love would be the easy part. It turned out keeping the love was more difficult than I ever expected.

 

My fiancé Greg and I met on Tinder when he was volunteering two years ago at the Boston marathon. We were attracted to each other right away, and after exchanging numbers, we began talking every day.

I soon learned that he didn’t live in Boston. In fact, he didn’t even live in Massachusetts. He actually lived in Manchester, Connecticut, about 15 minutes from Hartford. Well, I thought to myself. Nothing’s going to happen with a guy who lives an hour and a half away from me, so I might as well just enjoy it for now.

About a month after we began talking, I was headed to New York for a friend’s engagement party. At that point, I knew from our texting that we had a true connection, as our conversations had been getting progressively more substantial over the course of the month. I thought, Now’s my chance to meet Greg and see if there’s anything there. And he’s halfway between Massachusetts and New York, so I can take a break from driving! (Yes, a large part of why I visited was because he was on the way to somewhere I was already going.) So, I went down to visit him.

Ever since, Greg and I have taken turns to visit each other every weekend. We never discussed this arrangement. We both just seemed to operate under the assumption that we would visit each other every weekend until one of us was no longer interested. That never happened. It sounds like a lie, but it really was that easy.

I just want to share my story with all ladies

I am a 24 lady who was in a bad relationship for 3yrs.When I met the guy I thought he was the one, his sweet words made me believe he loved me and of course I fell for that….I have done everything to please him, I went all out to prove my love for him, I sacrificed my life for him but he was to blind to see all that.

All he was doing best was to tell me about how beautiful other girls are, how my hairstyles makes himsick, he complained about almost everything in my life.

I started to have low self esteem, feeling like am unworthy, feel unattractive coz he told me that no guy will love me. One day he made a mistake by calling me desperate, he told me that am not the kind of girl he wants to get married to. That broke me to pieces, I was in varsity and about to write my exams, I couldn’t study and I was even thinking death was the solution for me But I thank God coz he spoke sense in my life.

I stood in front of da mirror and looked at a beautiful woman, I pulled myself together,studied for my exams and I passed. I graduated last year and Got a job in one of the biggest companies in SA.I met a man who didn’t even wont wait until he put a ring on my finger, am engaged and am going to marry one of the best men in DA world.I have achieved many things that maybe I couldn’t have achieved if I was still with that looser.

He called and asked to see me and I went to meet him, I went to meet him looking beautiful, driving my car and waving the ring on my finger, he couldn’t believe what he saw, I took him to the best restaurant and paid allthe bills, He cried and said sorry bt it was too late.After that I felt like am on top of the world when my ex saw me swimming in success.NOW I PRAY to someone reading this today every one you worked so hard for and neglected you would come back to beg you.

WHEN your glory shine!!! Can someone say a loud
“AMEN”

It Happened To Me: Taking Him Back After He Cheated

My heart goes out to women like Karrueche Tran and Keyshia Cole.  They’re in the public eye, and they had to suffer through the devastation of learning that their men stepped out on them with other women. Being in the public eye puts them in a position to be heavily criticized if they make the decision, for themselves, to take Chris and “Booby” back. I couldn’t deal with that.

I was cheated on by my fiance many moons ago, and deciding to take him back wasn’t an easy decision to come to. It took a lot of time and a lot of healing. Taking a man back after he’s cheated requires a different level of strength. You have to be an extraordinarily strong woman to continue to love and live with a person after they’ve betrayed your trust in such a way.

So how does one deal after finding out that their man has been emotionally or sexually connecting with someone else? Though every individual has their own way of dealing with a cheating spouse, here’s what I did and what you can try if you’re considering taking him back.
Do Not Blame Yourself
For a lot of women, including myself, the natural reaction to learning that your man ran to someone else is to question your own worthiness and actions. You ask yourself, “what did I do that pushed him out the door and into the arms of another woman?” And when the comparisons between yourself and the other woman begin to cloud your mind, you ask yourself, “what didn’t I do?” 

About That Time I Knowingly Played The Role Of The “Main Chick” For A Cheating Man

The main chick is a woman who has been in a relationship or marriage for a long time and has put up with a lot of crap from her man to be considered number one on his roster. If they’re not married, she’s the woman who has “wifey” status. The main chick is the one who through intuition, or proof, knows that her man steps out every once in a while; but she’ll justify it because he comes home to her at the end of the day.
This used to be my reality when I was younger, and for lack of a better word, dumb. I was with a guy for two years on and off. Throughout those two years, I caught him cheating more than once. Looking back on that time is extremely embarrassing for me because I still can’t believe I allowed myself to go through something so degrading and humiliating. The reasons I mentioned above are partly why I stayed with him, but honestly, I was friends with his mom and I felt pressured by her to stay.

When I found out he’d had a woman in my car when we switched vehicles for the day, I called his mom to vent. Her response was, “Well you get to go on the trips don’t you? You’re the one he comes home to.” These were supposed to be words of wisdom and encouragement, but after hearing such excuses one too many times, it felt crazy to me. As I held the phone to my ear, I listened to a woman trying to rationalize why I should stay with her philandering son. The main chick was supposed to be a consolation prize because I was living a “great life,” even if I was completely miserable.

Is This Petty? I Broke Up With Him After Almost A Year Because The S*x Was Terrible

A friend of mine told me an interesting story recently about a girl she knows who thought she met the perfect guy.

He’s fine. He graduated from Yale. He has a great job. And most importantly, he treated her well.

However, despite having it all together in almost every area of his life, he was…how do I say this?

Well, he was subpar in the sack. Sorry to say it in such a harsh way, but clearly that is the perfect way to describe the s*x. How do I know? She broke up with the poor fella over it.

According to my friend, her girlfriend liked the guy a lot, but she could not overlook the fact that there was a level of passion missing from their relationship. They had been dating for less than a year, and even though things started off nicely, slowly, she started to have that feeling. It is the feeling you get when you know something is off, but you don’t want to put the spotlight on it. You don’t want to talk about it or pay it too much attention because you are happy, and you’ve finally found a great catch who is amazing on paper.
Confused as to whether or not she was about to sabotage a good thing over something she initially didn’t think was important, she tried to ignore that feeling.

However, as months passed, there was no more avoiding it: he was simply bad in bed. Eventually, she had to say something (not by telling him how bad he was, but by saying that she wanted to spice things up). So they tried different things, different moves, and different places.

Still no dice.

She put on a good front in the bedroom while she could, moaning and pretending that she was getting her world rocked, and her boots knocked. But alas, as Blaine and Antoine of the “Men on Film” skit would say, “Hated it!”

So about two months ago, after being wined and dined and appreciated by a genuinely good man, she ended things. While he had some great qualities and treated her well, she could not ignore the fact that when she was with him, she didn’t feel…fire. The fire that makes you look at your man after he says or does something unexpectedly awesome in public, and think a thought that’s a little too Rated R for me to try and put into words. The romance was there, but the passion? Not so much. She couldn’t help but think that she was settling, and that there could be someone else out there who could make her feel that fire. So she went looking…

With that in mind, I am wondering just how important is the passion in a relationship to you?

A letter to … my ex-husband who phoned me out of the blue

You phoned today. It had been a long time since we spoke, about three years. There was a message to deliver. I waited, but there was only silence. I felt your surprise; you expected me to talk but I didn’t. I don’t like silences on the phone and you know that. You expected me to chatter, to laugh nervously or to ask you why you had phoned; it is both a comfort and a failing. But I remained silent. You thought I was angry. My silence was out of character.

We had been together for a long time, 25 years. We were working together and you told me you loved me, that I was your soulmate, your friend and confidante. But you left me for a work colleague almost 10 years ago. She has the same hobbies as you, she understands your difficult work, you didn’t need me any more (you said), it was a parting of the ways (you said). You thought I would feel the same way, but you forgot to discuss it with me. You didn’t intend to be, but you were careless and I found the letter. I read the plans you had made together, when you would leave me, when she would leave him, where you would live, which holidays you would go on, how you would buy a kitten. But there was no plan written for me.

A letter to … my mother, who forced me into marriage

Since leaving my family home 10 years ago, I have dreamed about you on numerous occasions. Even after all this time, and despite being in my 30s with a career and my own place, I have not quite been able to shake off the fear and anxiety you have left me with.

I left after you forced me into marriage. It was a marriage that I had never acquiesced to, with a stranger from India. I had repeatedly told you and my father that I did not want this marriage, but you had forced me, often with the threat that you would take your life if I did not go through with it. So I did.

I have no memory of that wedding day. Though I do remember I was unwell beforehand and lost a lot of weight. Do you remember it? I was later diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder so, thankfully, my mind had somehow blanked out most of the memories that caused me such distress. I know that it was a huge affair in India with hundreds of guests and I wore an elaborate dress and the traditional gold of a bride.

Those 10 days in India, staying in the house, before I came back home to London, were the most horrible days of my life. It felt as if I had lost everything: my emotional, intellectual and bodily autonomy. Leaving the marriage, when I got back to London, saved my life.

7 Apologies I Owe My Husband

1. I’m sorry I locked us out of our apartment building that night last January, while you were dragging our Christmas tree out to the curb and it was 20 degrees outside and we didn’t have our coats or our phones. But I saw the tree catch in the wind like a sail, and I could tell that you were about to run out into the street after it, and I wanted to help you, so I ran outside, too, but you know how forgetful I am and how absentminded, and I guess we’d be stranded like that a lot more often if you were that way, too.

2. I’m sorry I was too shy to tell you how I felt when we were 18 and lived on the same dorm floor, and so instead I just stood in the hall, talking loudly to other people, hoping you might hear my voice and want to open your door, which often you did.

3. I’m sorry I worry so much about plane crashes and skin cancer and burglars. And I’m sorry that I always think our house is on fire, ever since that night in Brooklyn, the year we got married, when there really was a fire in our building, and we lived in a studio on the 15th floor, and the stairwells were filled with smoke, so we took a chance on the elevator, ducking down and holding hands, and then sneezed ash for days. And I’m so glad you don’t worry like I do, so that I can always look to you when I need to and tell from your smile that we’re safe, that someone next door is just cooking something smoky and that everything will probably be fine.

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