Same here, Emma Austin
Sometimes, I labor under the delusion that I’m just irreparably f’d up. Then, I pick myself up, crawl out of whatever hole I thought was going to keep me safe, and face the world again. All things considered, that’s better than my other alternatives.
Shame is the worst.
A.J. Kay has done some remarkable writing on growing up the child of a narcissist and choosing a narcissistic mate. She’s discovered strategies for dealing with a narcissist with whom you just can’t go No Contact.
I’m not a big fan of No Contact, because too many people tell themselves that the problem is ALL with the narcissist, or rush to amateur diagnoses of others without examining themselves. That’s not going to work. (Pro tip: It’s about you, too).
To heal, we must recognize the trauma our own brains is working on.
I am a big fan of boundaries, hard lines, and non-negotiables. No Contact might be the right way to get started on those. The only way to discover them is to experiment, and there’s no shame in that.
One of the things that your description of your sex life reminds me of is that safety is super important… and yet, great sex demands vulnerability and a willingness to lose control.
I wonder whether your fantasies of polyamory are really just an expression of the fact that you chose your current husband because he met your most important needs at the time, and now your needs are changing (partly because his acceptance of you is contributing to your healing). Because your marriage has already established a pattern, you fantasize about meeting your new need to push your sexual boundaries with someone else, but you may have never really attempted to push them in the way you need to with your current partner.
There was a lot of truth in that for me. I still don’t have it worked out, and that sucks.
I’m not giving up trying.
Thanks for writing.
