u/Competitive_Pie_2915

For context I was 15F when I met my ex-I had no previous sexual experience at all. We met at a local club-he was 17M, nearly 18 y/o when we started dating.
Right from the start he had always been very full on with the making out-and I just thought that was normal as I had nothing else to go by-it didn’t even shock me too much that he brought a bunch of condoms to our second or third date. I realize now that expectation of me, a very vulnerable 15 year old with a legal guy should have been a red flag, but I simply declined sleeping with him and we did alot of other stuff. He said lots of lovely things to me which made me feel good-I needed the affection as I had such low low self esteem from my previous mental health issues and not having many friends around me. As time went on, I began to notice that the relationship was very one-sided-I would always be making him little tokens of appreciation, planning dates and generally putting in effort. I got nothing in return-literally-the first date we went on that wasn’t planned and payed for by me was for his 18th birthday-and that’s only because his mum gave him money and told him to. Things rapidly went downhill after that-I still wanted the affection of a real relationship but whenever we went on a date he would act all grumpy and in a mood with me, making everything miserable. He was only happy if we were doing sexual stuff. I began to feel like my body was the only way that I could earn his attention and happiness as otherwise I was treated like nothing. My 16th was coming up, so I would be legal-I wanted sex-convinced it would be exciting and amazing and a chance for him to finally love me properly. Days after my 16th, we legally had sex. For my birthday he got me a one pound candle and a card in which he had scribbled in and forgotten to spell my name. He had brought himself an array of condoms and lube. The lube was needed as he made no effort into pleasuring me at all and the sex was unpleasant. Nethertheless, I pretended to enjoy myself as that made him happy. He was never quite satisfied though and kept going on and on and on about anal sex. I was adamant that I did not want to do that-but every time we had sex and he couldn’t come while we were doing it (another very weird thing, he couldn’t only come when touching himself infront of me..) I felt guilty and like I was doing something wrong. At this point we had started to have arguments in general as he was treating me like I was worth nothing, repeatedly teasing me about kissing another girl in this production and he even told me that I was the ‘bottom of the priorities’. I know. I should’ve dumped him but I was really low and depressed and I felt like I needed him to feel valuable. The last time we slept together after only having normal sex (which was horrible) about three times I gave into anal in a desperate last attempt to earn the true affection I deserved. It didn’t work and I went home, in my mum’s words looking ‘white as a ghost and absolutely traumatized’. I managed to break up with him. Tell me-am I being dramatic or is this mild abuse? I still have nightmares and am scared of relationships over six months on from the breakup…

For context I was 15F when I met my ex-I had no previous sexual experience at all. We met at a local club-he was 17M, nearly 18 y/o when we started dating.
Right from the start he had always been very full on with the making out-and I just thought that was normal as I had nothing else to go by-it didn’t even shock me too much that he brought a bunch of condoms to our second or third date. I realize now that expectation of me, a very vulnerable 15 year old with a legal guy should have been a red flag, but I simply declined sleeping with him and we did alot of other stuff. He said lots of lovely things to me which made me feel good-I needed the affection as I had such low low self esteem from my previous mental health issues and not having many friends around me. As time went on, I began to notice that the relationship was very one-sided-I would always be making him little tokens of appreciation, planning dates and generally putting in effort. I got nothing in return-literally-the first date we went on that wasn’t planned and payed for by me was for his 18th birthday-and that’s only because his mum gave him money and told him to. Things rapidly went downhill after that-I still wanted the affection of a real relationship but whenever we went on a date he would act all grumpy and in a mood with me, making everything miserable. He was only happy if we were doing sexual stuff. I began to feel like my body was the only way that I could earn his attention and happiness as otherwise I was treated like nothing. My 16th was coming up, so I would be legal-I wanted sex-convinced it would be exciting and amazing and a chance for him to finally love me properly. Days after my 16th, we legally had sex. For my birthday he got me a one pound candle and a card in which he had scribbled in and forgotten to spell my name. He had brought himself an array of condoms and lube. The lube was needed as he made no effort into pleasuring me at all and the sex was unpleasant. Nethertheless, I pretended to enjoy myself as that made him happy. He was never quite satisfied though and kept going on and on and on about anal sex. I was adamant that I did not want to do that-but every time we had sex and he couldn’t come while we were doing it (another very weird thing, he couldn’t only come when touching himself infront of me..) I felt guilty and like I was doing something wrong. At this point we had started to have arguments in general as he was treating me like I was worth nothing, repeatedly teasing me about kissing another girl in this production and he even told me that I was the ‘bottom of the priorities’. I know. I should’ve dumped him but I was really low and depressed and I felt like I needed him to feel valuable. The last time we slept together after only having normal sex (which was horrible) about three times I gave into anal in a desperate last attempt to earn the true affection I deserved. It didn’t work and I went home, in my mum’s words looking ‘white as a ghost and absolutely traumatized’. I managed to break up with him. Tell me-am I being dramatic or is this mild abuse? I still have nightmares and am scared of relationships over six months on from the breakup…

For context I was 15 when I met my ex-I had no previous sexual experience at all. We met at a local club-he was 17, nearly 18 when we started dating.
Right from the start he had always been very full on with the making out-and I just thought that was normal as I had nothing else to go by-it didn’t even shock me too much that he brought a bunch of condoms to our second or third date. I realize now that expectation of me, a very vulnerable 15 year old with a legal guy should have been a red flag, but I simply declined sleeping with him and we did alot of other stuff. He said lots of lovely things to me which made me feel good-I needed the affection as I had such low low self esteem from my previous mental health issues and not having many friends around me. As time went on, I began to notice that the relationship was very one-sided-I would always be making him little tokens of appreciation, planning dates and generally putting in effort. I got nothing in return-literally-the first date we went on that wasn’t planned and payed for by me was for his 18th birthday-and that’s only because his mum gave him money and told him to. Things rapidly went downhill after that-I still wanted the affection of a real relationship but whenever we went on a date he would act all grumpy and in a mood with me, making everything miserable. He was only happy if we were doing sexual stuff. I began to feel like my body was the only way that I could earn his attention and happiness as otherwise I was treated like nothing. My 16th was coming up, so I would be legal-I wanted sex-convinced it would be exciting and amazing and a chance for him to finally love me properly. Days after my 16th, we legally had sex. For my birthday he got me a one pound candle and a card in which he had scribbled in and forgotten to spell my name. He had brought himself an array of condoms and lube. The lube was needed as he made no effort into pleasuring me at all and the sex was unpleasant. Nethertheless, I pretended to enjoy myself as that made him happy. He was never quite satisfied though and kept going on and on and on about anal sex. I was adamant that I did not want to do that-but every time we had sex and he couldn’t come while we were doing it (another very weird thing, he couldn’t only come when touching himself infront of me..) I felt guilty and like I was doing something wrong. At this point we had started to have arguments in general as he was treating me like I was worth nothing, repeatedly teasing me about kissing another girl in this production and he even told me that I was the ‘bottom of the priorities’. I know. I should’ve dumped him but I was really low and depressed and I felt like I needed him to feel valuable. The last time we slept together after only having normal sex (which was horrible) about three times I gave into anal in a desperate last attempt to earn the true affection I deserved. It didn’t work and I went home, in my mum’s words looking ‘white as a ghost and absolutely traumatized’. I managed to break up with him. Tell me-am I being dramatic or is this mild abuse? I still have nightmares and am scared of relationships over six months on from the breakup…

I’m a sibling to a little brother with a disability, and I just feel like my parents don’t notice me as much. Every conversation is centered around my younger brother and his current issues to the point where that is his whole identity in a conversation-literally sometimes it can be a ten minute conversation over his medical appointments. I have struggled differently as well-mentally instead of physically but when I have been low I have been responded with shouting and told to ‘get on with it’ and ‘toughen up’. It feels very unfair that my brother’s disability buys him the privilege of hugs and encouragement whenever he is upset. I often feel like my achievements and existence is drowned out by his medical struggles to the point where I am a side character in my parents life. I feel like I have to be the strong one, the tough ‘normal’ older sibling, the academic one to compensate for him-do all of the things he can’t. Punishment is another thing-when I was his age and did wrong things, I got punished accordingly, but when he does similar things, my parents rarely punish him and almost excuse it due to his disability. I know he can’t help all of it but it still seems so unfair that I got parented in a harsher way while he never gets punished for wrong doings because he has ‘a-lot else going on at the moment in terms of medical appointments which is punishment enough’. love my little brother a lot, but I can’t help feeling jealously and frustration at the seemingly ‘favoritism’ parenting he receives.