u/boris_doris3

Hi everyone,

I'll be spending about a week in Berlin this July and I'm looking for a nice place to go swimming for an afternoon.

Originally I wanted to visit Stadtbad Neukölln because I absolutely loved its historic architecture, but I found out it's closed until August 30.

I've also been considering Badeschiff, but I'm wondering if it's become a bit too tourist-oriented. I don't mind visitors at all, but I'd rather go somewhere that locals genuinely enjoy instead of a place that's mostly a tourist attraction.

I'm not necessarily looking for a modern sports pool. I like places with character—historic architecture, interesting design, or simply a relaxed Berlin atmosphere.

Would you recommend Badeschiff, or is there another pool, lido, or swimming spot that you think is a better choice?

Thanks!

I recently got out of a relationship that lasted almost a year, and I’m starting to realize that my pain may not be only about losing the relationship itself.
The relationship was intense from the beginning. We spent weekends together, traveled together, talked for hours on the phone, developed a strong emotional connection, and I genuinely fell in love with her.
However, there was a major incompatibility from the start. I wanted an exclusive relationship, while she was more comfortable with a much more open approach to intimacy and connections. Throughout the relationship there was another man in the picture, and over time I became increasingly obsessed with comparing myself to him.
The relationship eventually ended, and for the past month I’ve been struggling with something that feels bigger than heartbreak.
I constantly compare myself to other men.
I imagine running into my ex with someone else and immediately start imagining how I would measure up.
I look at my own life and often feel like I’m somehow “less interesting” or “less significant.”
I find myself wondering whether she left because I wasn’t ambitious enough, successful enough, creative enough, or simply not the type of man she truly wanted.
What’s strange is that this has started affecting how I see everything around me.
I can look at a picture of myself and feel disconnected from the person I see.
I can attend an event and immediately wonder whether my ex would judge me for being there.
Sometimes it feels like her perspective has become an internal voice that follows me everywhere.
The more I think about it, the more I suspect that the relationship temporarily covered an older dissatisfaction that was already present in my life. While I was with her, I had something exciting, meaningful and emotionally intense to focus on. Now that she’s gone, all the questions I was avoiding seem to have returned at once.
Has anyone else experienced something like this?
Not just grieving a person, but questioning your identity, your life direction, and your self-worth after the relationship ended?
How did you separate the pain of losing the relationship from the deeper issues that the relationship may have been distracting you from?

Has anyone recovered from associating arousal with jealousy and competition?

I’m trying to understand something that has been happening to me since the end of a relationship and I’m wondering if anyone with attachment theory knowledge can relate.
I was involved for almost a year with someone I developed strong feelings for. The relationship was intense, but there was a major incompatibility: I wanted an exclusive relationship, while she preferred a much more open and fluid approach to intimacy and connections.
Over time I became increasingly preoccupied with another man she was involved with. I spent months imagining them together, imagining them having sex, comparing myself to him, wondering whether he was better than me, more attractive, more experienced, etc.
The strange part is that those thoughts were painful, but they also became sexually arousing. At some point, jealousy, fear of losing her, competition and sexual excitement became completely intertwined.
During the relationship, I often found myself becoming aroused by these intrusive fantasies, even though they were also hurting me emotionally.
The relationship ended about a month ago.
Since then I’ve noticed something concerning: my sexual response feels different. I still have desire, but masturbation often feels flat. Sometimes I lose arousal completely. Other times I ejaculate but barely feel any orgasmic pleasure.
It’s as if my brain became accustomed to a very intense emotional-sexual state based on jealousy, anxiety, comparison and obsession, and now “normal” sexual desire feels weak or inaccessible.
I’m not asking for a diagnosis. I’m just curious whether anyone else has experienced something similar after an anxious attachment dynamic, a love triangle, limerence, or a highly activating relationship.
Can a person become conditioned to associate arousal with emotional pain, competition and insecurity? And if so, did your sexuality eventually return to a healthier and more spontaneous place after the relationship ended?

I’m trying to understand something that has been happening to me since the end of a relationship and I’m wondering if anyone with attachment theory knowledge can relate.
I was involved for almost a year with someone I developed strong feelings for. The relationship was intense, but there was a major incompatibility: I wanted an exclusive relationship, while she preferred a much more open and fluid approach to intimacy and connections.
Over time I became increasingly preoccupied with another man she was involved with. I spent months imagining them together, imagining them having sex, comparing myself to him, wondering whether he was better than me, more attractive, more experienced, etc.
The strange part is that those thoughts were painful, but they also became sexually arousing. At some point, jealousy, fear of losing her, competition and sexual excitement became completely intertwined.
During the relationship, I often found myself becoming aroused by these intrusive fantasies, even though they were also hurting me emotionally.
The relationship ended about a month ago.
Since then I’ve noticed something concerning: my sexual response feels different. I still have desire, but masturbation often feels flat. Sometimes I lose arousal completely. Other times I ejaculate but barely feel any orgasmic pleasure.
It’s as if my brain became accustomed to a very intense emotional-sexual state based on jealousy, anxiety, comparison and obsession, and now “normal” sexual desire feels weak or inaccessible.
I’m not asking for a diagnosis. I’m just curious whether anyone else has experienced something similar after an anxious attachment dynamic, a love triangle, limerence, or a highly activating relationship.
Can a person become conditioned to associate arousal with emotional pain, competition and insecurity? And if so, did your sexuality eventually return to a healthier and more spontaneous place after the relationship ended?

I’m trying to understand something that has been happening to me since the end of a relationship and I’m wondering if anyone with attachment theory knowledge can relate.
I was involved for almost a year with someone I developed strong feelings for. The relationship was intense, but there was a major incompatibility: I wanted an exclusive relationship, while she preferred a much more open and fluid approach to intimacy and connections.
Over time I became increasingly preoccupied with another man she was involved with. I spent months imagining them together, imagining them having sex, comparing myself to him, wondering whether he was better than me, more attractive, more experienced, etc.
The strange part is that those thoughts were painful, but they also became sexually arousing. At some point, jealousy, fear of losing her, competition and sexual excitement became completely intertwined.
During the relationship, I often found myself becoming aroused by these intrusive fantasies, even though they were also hurting me emotionally.
The relationship ended about a month ago.
Since then I’ve noticed something concerning: my sexual response feels different. I still have desire, but masturbation often feels flat. Sometimes I lose arousal completely. Other times I ejaculate but barely feel any orgasmic pleasure.
It’s as if my brain became accustomed to a very intense emotional-sexual state based on jealousy, anxiety, comparison and obsession, and now “normal” sexual desire feels weak or inaccessible.
I’m not asking for a diagnosis. I’m just curious whether anyone else has experienced something similar after an anxious attachment dynamic, a love triangle, limerence, or a highly activating relationship.
Can a person become conditioned to associate arousal with emotional pain, competition and insecurity? And if so, did your sexuality eventually return to a healthier and more spontaneous place after the relationship ended?

Dopo la fine di una relazione mi sta succedendo una cosa strana e vorrei capire se è capitata anche ad altri.
Mi accorgo che spesso non guardo più le persone, i luoghi o le situazioni attraverso il mio giudizio, ma attraverso quello che immagino sarebbe il giudizio della mia ex.
Faccio un esempio concreto.
Oggi ho visto la foto profilo WhatsApp di un mio ex collega. È una persona con cui ho avuto ottimi rapporti, con cui facevo discussioni interessanti di storia, letteratura e cultura generale. Una persona che negli anni mi ha consigliato libri e spunti che ho apprezzato molto.
La foto era semplicemente lui di spalle che osservava un quadro in un museo.
Una foto normalissima.
Eppure la prima reazione che ho avuto non è stata pensare a lui, ma immaginare cosa avrebbe pensato la mia ex vedendo una persona del genere.
Mi sono ritrovato a chiedermi se lo avrebbe considerato interessante, noioso, un po’ pretenzioso, un po’ provinciale o addirittura ridicolo.
La cosa assurda è che il disagio che ho provato non derivava dalla foto in sé, ma dal fatto di immaginare il suo sguardo e il suo giudizio.
Ripensandoci, mi sto accorgendo che questa dinamica non riguarda solo questa situazione. Mi succede con gli amici, con la città in cui vivo, con i luoghi che frequento e perfino con alcune attività che prima mi piacevano.
Come se una parte di me avesse interiorizzato uno spettatore invisibile che valuta continuamente tutto ciò che faccio.
Qualcuno ha vissuto qualcosa di simile dopo una relazione? Come si fa a distinguere ciò che piace davvero a noi da ciò che stiamo guardando attraverso gli occhi di qualcun altro?

After the end of a relationship that lasted about a year, I’ve found myself reflecting on something that goes far beyond the relationship itself.
I’ve realized that in almost every area of my life, I struggle to be fully committed. I do my job well and take it seriously, but part of me always thinks it isn’t the work I’m meant to do. I have friends and spend time with them, but I rarely feel completely invested. Even where I live, I’ve often felt only partially present, as if part of me were somewhere else.
I noticed the same pattern in the relationship that just ended. For a long time I thought the problem was simply the ambiguity of the situation and the fact that I never felt fully chosen. That was certainly part of it. But looking back, I’m starting to wonder whether there was something deeper going on.
I’ve realized that I often keep the handbrake on when it comes to important things. It’s almost as if fully investing in something would mean admitting that this is my life, and that there isn’t some better version of it waiting for me somewhere else.
Over the past few months, this feeling has become even stronger. Activities I used to enjoy, places I used to visit regularly, and even everyday objects that have been part of my life for years seem to have lost some of their meaning. Not because they’ve changed, but because the way I look at them has changed.
Sometimes I wonder whether the problem is that my current life genuinely doesn’t satisfy me, or whether I’ve spent so much time imagining alternative possibilities that I’ve become unable to fully engage with the life I already have.
Has anyone else experienced something similar?
How did you figure out whether the issue was your environment and circumstances, or your own tendency to always feel that something better might exist elsewhere?

M38. Dopo la fine di una relazione durata circa un anno mi sono ritrovato a fare una riflessione che va ben oltre la relazione stessa.
Mi sono accorto che in quasi tutti gli ambiti della mia vita faccio fatica a essere davvero “fully committed”. Nel lavoro mi impegno e lo svolgo bene, ma una parte di me pensa sempre che non sia il lavoro della mia vita. Con le amicizie ci sono e partecipo, ma raramente mi sento coinvolto al 100%. Anche nel luogo in cui vivo ho sempre avuto la sensazione di essere solo parzialmente presente, come se una parte di me fosse altrove.
Questa dinamica l’ho ritrovata anche nella relazione appena finita. Per molto tempo ho pensato che il problema fosse soltanto l’ambiguità della situazione e il fatto che non mi sentissi scelto fino in fondo. E sicuramente questo ha avuto un peso enorme. Però guardandomi indietro mi chiedo se non ci fosse anche qualcosa di più profondo.
Mi rendo conto che spesso tengo il freno a mano tirato nelle cose importanti. Come se investire completamente in qualcosa significasse ammettere che quella è la mia vita e che non ce n’è un’altra migliore che mi aspetta da qualche parte.
Negli ultimi mesi questa sensazione è diventata ancora più forte. Attività che prima mi piacevano, luoghi che frequentavo abitualmente e perfino alcuni oggetti che fanno parte della mia quotidianità hanno perso parte del loro significato. Non perché siano cambiati, ma perché è cambiato il modo in cui li guardo.
A volte mi chiedo se il problema sia che la mia vita attuale non mi soddisfa davvero fino in fondo, oppure se sia io a vivere costantemente nell’idea che esista sempre un’alternativa migliore e quindi a non riuscire mai a impegnarmi completamente nel presente.
Qualcuno si è mai trovato in una situazione simile? Come avete capito se il problema era il contesto in cui vivevate oppure il vostro modo di relazionarvi alle cose?

I recently ended a relationship that lasted about a year, and I'm trying to understand what actually happened to me.

The relationship was intense from the beginning. There was strong attraction, emotional and physical intimacy, shared interests, and a feeling that I had met someone special. The problem was that there was also another person in her life, someone she maintained an important connection with and never seemed able to fully let go of.

For months I lived in a very ambiguous situation. On one hand, she told me she cared about me, became emotional when we saw each other, talked about the future, and seemed to be growing closer to me. On the other hand, she continued to keep this other connection alive, which caused me a lot of pain and left me feeling like I was never fully chosen.

As time went on, I noticed something strange. Even though I was very attracted to her, whenever I imagined a real life together—living together, long-term plans, traveling, building a future—I felt a kind of discomfort that was hard to explain. It was as if one part of me strongly desired the relationship, while another part didn't truly feel at ease inside it.

She also seemed unhappy. She started telling me about anxiety, stress, and physical symptoms that would arise in situations we experienced together. Eventually, after a period of reflection, we decided to end the relationship.

Now I'm confused because I don't think I only miss her. I also miss the world I built around the relationship: the plans, the future I imagined, the feeling that my life might be moving toward something different and more exciting.

The strangest part is that since the breakup, I've started seeing my entire life differently. Places, routines, and activities that once felt normal now feel strangely foreign. Sometimes I feel as if I'm looking at my job, the city I live in, my friendships, and the way I spend my time through an external and judgmental lens.

It's almost as if I've internalized my ex's perspective and now see my own life as somehow insufficient, uninteresting, or not good enough. Things I used to enjoy now sometimes feel empty or disconnected from who I thought I was.

I've also become obsessed with comparison. I keep wondering whether I wasn't interesting enough, successful enough, accomplished enough, or simply "enough" compared to other men she has been involved with or may be involved with in the future. I find myself checking social media looking for clues and evidence, even though I know it only makes me feel worse.

My questions are:

• Has anyone ever felt like they were grieving the loss of a possible future more than the loss of the actual person?
• Have you ever started judging your entire life through the eyes of an ex-partner after a breakup?
• How did you figure out whether you were processing a breakup or whether the relationship had simply exposed deeper issues that were already there before you met that person?

M38.Ho appena chiuso una relazione durata circa un anno e sto cercando di capire cosa mi sia realmente successo.

La relazione è stata molto intensa fin dall'inizio. C'erano attrazione, complicità, interessi in comune, intimità emotiva e fisica. Il problema è che era presente anche un'altra persona con cui lei manteneva un legame importante e che non riusciva a lasciare del tutto. Per mesi ho vissuto in una situazione ambigua: da una parte mi diceva che teneva a me, si commuoveva quando ci vedevamo, parlava di futuro e sembrava avvicinarsi sempre di più; dall'altra continuava a mantenere aperta questa situazione che mi faceva soffrire e sentire costantemente non scelto fino in fondo.

Col tempo ho iniziato a notare una cosa strana. Pur essendo molto attratto da lei, quando immaginavo una vita concreta insieme (quotidianità, convivenza, progetti a lungo termine, viaggi, ecc.) provavo una sensazione di disagio difficile da spiegare. Come se una parte di me la desiderasse fortemente, mentre un'altra non si sentisse davvero a proprio agio dentro quella relazione. Anche lei sembrava stare male. Ha iniziato a raccontarmi di provare ansia e forte stress in diverse situazioni che vivevamo insieme. Alla fine, dopo un periodo di riflessione, abbiamo deciso di interrompere il rapporto.

Adesso mi trovo in una situazione che mi confonde. Ovviamente mi manca, ma ho la sensazione che non mi manchi soltanto la persona. Mi manca anche tutto il mondo che avevo costruito intorno a quella relazione: i progetti, le fantasie sul futuro, la possibilità di una vita diversa e più stimolante di quella che conducevo prima.

La cosa più strana è che da quando è finita ho iniziato a guardare diversamente anche la mia stessa vita. Luoghi, abitudini e attività che prima mi appartenevano oggi mi sembrano improvvisamente estranei. A volte ho la sensazione di osservare il mio lavoro, la città in cui vivo, le mie amicizie e il mio modo di passare il tempo attraverso uno sguardo esterno e giudicante. Come se avessi interiorizzato il punto di vista della mia ex e vedessi tutto ciò che mi circonda come insufficiente o poco interessante. Inoltre mi accorgo di essere diventato ossessionato dal confronto. Continuo a chiedermi se non fossi abbastanza interessante, abbastanza affermato o abbastanza stimabile rispetto ad altri uomini che lei ha frequentato o potrebbe frequentare in futuro. Mi ritrovo spesso a cercare conferme di questa idea sui social, pur sapendo che mi fa stare peggio.

Le domande che vorrei fare sono:

• Vi è mai capitato di soffrire più per la perdita di una possibilità di vita che per la perdita della persona stessa?
• Vi è mai capitato di iniziare a giudicare la vostra intera esistenza attraverso gli occhi di un ex partner?
• Come avete capito se stavate elaborando una rottura oppure se quella relazione aveva semplicemente fatto emergere problemi più profondi che esistevano già da tempo?