Lesbian Female / 36
I Am In A Marriage Of Convenience, DADDY Issues And All
Like a lot of girls who find that another girl makes them hot, I went to school at a lesbian school in Washington state. I found a lot of girls there, some not so much girls, as men without balls. I was attracted always to a certain type. Smart, has to be pretty, so pretty you just have to kiss her. Likes the baking and keeping house role. Wears pretty underpants, and little bows on her bras. I never could get excited for some biker or some 'proud to be gay' type. '
After college I went to Oregon to get a masters degree and my girlfriend of the time came along. In Oregon we faced a new wave of 'gay pride'. If you didn't go along, you were the enemy. It was that bad. I hated the social pecking order there. And my girlfriend hated it even worse. She left for some time to go home and just chill. Her parents knew that she was my girlfriend, and they liked me well enough. But my girlfriend, back at home, just ran off and got married to her high school sweetheart. No warning.
What do you call it, a kick in the guts. It hurt like nothing I had ever experienced. Not that I didn't want her to be happy, but Holy Shit, it hurt. So I went home, after getting my degree, to chill. My parents were well aware of my 'proclivity' and only asked that I don't bring it home with me. A daughter of a friend of my parents got married and I went with them to the wedding and to the reception. I met a guy there who had just returned from Europe where he has spent the last five years. He was different, sort of European light. All the talk about how Europe was such a better place to live. My father calls him a false intellectual, repeating what he heard, but not an original thought in his head. But, here's the part, I ran off with him and got married.
After six weeks I had enough. Sure, I wasn't into the sex part, he was actually pretty abusive. I just got fed up with his attitude and I asked my parents to help me get rid of him, marriage wise, they paid for me to get a divorce, but that took some time. Boy what a mistake. I had gotten a job and worked nine to five, not in my chosen area of education, but in a job that paid and had benefits. I met a man there, much older than me, and he put me in a vise. Sure he 'asked' as he was already on top of me and his dick was at the door, and what the fuck, go ahead. Well I got pregnant. Twenty seven years old, and I was pregnant with an older man.
I went through the 'how can this happen to me', 'fuck it, I'm getting an abortion', 'he doesn't need to know'. But I told him, I 'agreed' sort of reluctantly to go through with it. He had the means to pay child support and he said he would help me with the bills. He didn't have a problem per se that I was pregnant with his kid. He knew a lot about me, I had been 'gay' at school.
I married him out of a sense of dread. Financial dread. I didn't want to end up being one of those old impoverished lesbians with a kid. BTW, I now understood how lesbians end up with a kid. He had to finish raising me, from totally immature into a woman to be the mother of his kid. Believe me, when you realize that you are married to a 'real grown up man' and you have this DADDY syndrome you never knew about, it really makes you think of who you are. That I was pregnant, obvious pregnant, didn't help. I don't want to call it dependency, but as far as he was concerned he had two daughters to raise.
Nonetheless he made me pregnant again, and he bought a real house and I became one more mother in line to pick up my kid. I wear clothes to hide my tattoo life, I gained a little weight, I work part time. I'm still a relatively skinny mom, and friends from when I grew up comment 'well look at you'. Now if only I could outgrow this DADDY thing, I might be able to say I've grown up.
After college I went to Oregon to get a masters degree and my girlfriend of the time came along. In Oregon we faced a new wave of 'gay pride'. If you didn't go along, you were the enemy. It was that bad. I hated the social pecking order there. And my girlfriend hated it even worse. She left for some time to go home and just chill. Her parents knew that she was my girlfriend, and they liked me well enough. But my girlfriend, back at home, just ran off and got married to her high school sweetheart. No warning.
What do you call it, a kick in the guts. It hurt like nothing I had ever experienced. Not that I didn't want her to be happy, but Holy Shit, it hurt. So I went home, after getting my degree, to chill. My parents were well aware of my 'proclivity' and only asked that I don't bring it home with me. A daughter of a friend of my parents got married and I went with them to the wedding and to the reception. I met a guy there who had just returned from Europe where he has spent the last five years. He was different, sort of European light. All the talk about how Europe was such a better place to live. My father calls him a false intellectual, repeating what he heard, but not an original thought in his head. But, here's the part, I ran off with him and got married.
After six weeks I had enough. Sure, I wasn't into the sex part, he was actually pretty abusive. I just got fed up with his attitude and I asked my parents to help me get rid of him, marriage wise, they paid for me to get a divorce, but that took some time. Boy what a mistake. I had gotten a job and worked nine to five, not in my chosen area of education, but in a job that paid and had benefits. I met a man there, much older than me, and he put me in a vise. Sure he 'asked' as he was already on top of me and his dick was at the door, and what the fuck, go ahead. Well I got pregnant. Twenty seven years old, and I was pregnant with an older man.
I went through the 'how can this happen to me', 'fuck it, I'm getting an abortion', 'he doesn't need to know'. But I told him, I 'agreed' sort of reluctantly to go through with it. He had the means to pay child support and he said he would help me with the bills. He didn't have a problem per se that I was pregnant with his kid. He knew a lot about me, I had been 'gay' at school.
I married him out of a sense of dread. Financial dread. I didn't want to end up being one of those old impoverished lesbians with a kid. BTW, I now understood how lesbians end up with a kid. He had to finish raising me, from totally immature into a woman to be the mother of his kid. Believe me, when you realize that you are married to a 'real grown up man' and you have this DADDY syndrome you never knew about, it really makes you think of who you are. That I was pregnant, obvious pregnant, didn't help. I don't want to call it dependency, but as far as he was concerned he had two daughters to raise.
Nonetheless he made me pregnant again, and he bought a real house and I became one more mother in line to pick up my kid. I wear clothes to hide my tattoo life, I gained a little weight, I work part time. I'm still a relatively skinny mom, and friends from when I grew up comment 'well look at you'. Now if only I could outgrow this DADDY thing, I might be able to say I've grown up.
