Relationships

About myself, I am 40, currently living in London and have been since 2019, I am a mother of 3 (sons who are 19 and 20 years and daughter who is 12). I was married at 19 to a man I didn’t know, as arranged by my parents. I was born and raised in India and my ex-husband was a British National, settled in Mozambique, came from a good financial standing and network; he lived with his family and immediately after my marriage I moved to live with him in a joint family setting. I cannot begin to say the horrors I experienced during my marriage. Plainly putting, I got married to a coercive controlling maniac who went on to abuse me in every possible imagined way for 11 years and one day, when he was totally high on a substance he shouted the talaak, For once I was free, however what ensued was nothing less than a nightmare, from being abandoned in a foreign country, without recourse, resource or any form of support. There was a terrible incident thereafter whereby my ex lost all control and dragged me hanging on to a speeding car door until the end of the street. I ended up in a wheelchair briefly. Later after some months of legal battles ensued in two countries, I had to find myself lawyers to support my application to relocate to the UK. My ex-husband abducted the children and removed them from my care after losing a high court verdict in my favour.

My family back home in India never supported me throughout my abusive marriage, they were not on my list of hopes.

At one point I even got kidnapped and held for 30 days in Johannesburg, after my children’s abduction, there was a rescue by the UN and then I was repatriated home to India. Having lost everything, not even a relationship with my children.

Long and short of this is that I went through the lengths of heaven and earth to get my children’s custody – it took me 8 years and multiple rounds of court hearing to prove that I was wronged and reversal of this time only daughter who was 10, when abducted and taken away from me she was 3. This is not to boast about my achievements in spite of the hardships, failures and then relief.

The consequences of this are that I have a severed relationship with my sons as the justice took too long to serve, and lives have been destroyed beyond damage. They live with dad between Mozambique and South Africa now. My ex-husband is not allowed to have any contact with my daughter, a court order has been issued to make sure that he doesn’t manipulate her and also to ensure she has a safe place to thrive with me, an environment free from abuse and harm.

Coming out of this was nothing less than a miracle.

I can give you details if you’d be interested in knowing. This I am sure alone is an exhausting read.

2 years ago, I met an Arab man through a dating site. He was a refugee living in London and was separated from his family (kids and estranged wife who was a Muslim Russian woman); I am working for a legal consultancy and having been through this myself I understood his pain of staying away from his children. He asked me to help me with reuniting with his children, I did everything in my means, which included writing to the Home Office and the local MPs, getting all sorts of support from social services as well.

He lived in a shared house, and I am more comfortable with a two-bedroom flat, for just myself and my daughter.

I succeeded in reuniting this family, and the relationship carried on. Then his children needed housing and school and every admin, advice, who would turn to me so totally dependent on me and I just couldn’t say no or let go.

This family was evicted from the one room shared house, I had to help him and ex wife with applications to the council for social benefits. Any and everything he needed he would just turn to me; he would drive my car since he didn’t have one at that point.

I will admit, although a haram relationship, I liked the touch, the caress, which I never for once received in my marriage with ex-husband, my marriage was miserable since the beginning, my ex-husband to out it straight would only have relations with me to use me as a conduit to make babies, there was no love and care just abuse, belittling and humiliation, I was never good enough for them.

Moving on – due to the social housing crisis, he and his family were moved to a hotel by the council for 5 months. Eventually, his ex-wife kicked him out or he moved out, God knows best, he moved in with me. I wasn’t too sure about this in the beginning; however, I couldn't abandon him. He wasn’t working at that time and was using all of his savings; I wanted to support him through his trying times.

I am a proud person; I don’t know how to receive gifts without giving anything back or feel as if they are sort of a burden on me. Therefore, I never took anything, not even money to split bills, not even groceries.

Anyways, I used to cook, clean, wash and do everything in addition to the already existing role I played in his life, a relentless support or maybe stupidly manipulated and taken for granted. The exploitation is beyond words.

At some point I figured he was engaged to a young girl half his age in Syria, I confronted him, and he said you knew that I was going to get married to a woman from Syria, so why are you surprised. I explained, I wanted him to marry me, he said I will marry her but if you want, I can marry you and this will be a secret marriage. I disagreed with this preposition, I said your sisters and mother would know the least if not everyone.

I wonder what 19-year-old girl marries a man who was previously married to a woman older than him, a father of two reasonably old daughters, double her age at 40 years old. No background, financial checks by family, where he stayed, where he worked, what his income was. I found it very strange, if not for the greed of moving to the UK and showing off in her circle she bagged a rich guy. Not knowing full reality of his finances.

I helped him find work too, he worked for two months as a contractor in construction work and then his contract finished, He was still living with me, then he went to Lebanon in September last year, upon his return I asked him whether he got married, he said no.

I had previously, very clearly mentioned that if he got married, I didn’t want anything to do with him. I wanted a peaceful exit. He lied, eventually in February ‘25 it came out that he got married in September ‘24 and his wife’s visa application was successful, and she was moving to London.

Upon his return from Lebanon in October ‘24, withholding info on his marriage, he asked me to help him find a house and convince the many landlords and estate agents to give him the rental although he wasn’t eligible for proving affordability criteria. I lend a decent amount of money to buy furniture and other stuff.

This man kept lying, manipulating, deceiving.

He only moved out the night she arrived, he continued coming to see me, even though I told him to stop multiple times. He came to my house on occasions even with her. I felt so sick.

I am so ashamed of myself, I have not made the right choices in my life.

Please, I beg you, help me find a good man, who will care for me, a selfless man. Financially I cope, I am looking after myself and my daughter. I don’t have much but we are okay, I had some money saved up which I have given this man.

I do not have any financial security, and I am only going to get settled status in the UK in 2030. With no money to my name, no family involved, and a lot of damage; would there be a man, a good, kind hearted, a real gentleman who would be willing to accept me the way I am and provide some sort of security and protection from any further harm, Allah knows I need it desperately.

I don’t want to be used and disposed – I want genuine care,

Glad you have read through. I could carry on giving you details – I sure have missed out more than half the details, but I am sure you will get a good idea by now.

Hi, my name is sushiforpizza. I'm here because I’m in abusive toxic relationship and I have problem with my trauma, and I’m so stressed and I feel like my live collapse, I’ve so many traumas and I get abused from my husband

#MightyTogether #PTSD #Anxiety

"Still Growing"

My childhood was simple.

The earliest memory I have is from when I was three. I remember looking around my room, completely mesmerized by my toys. It was the first time I could really retain memories and understand what my parents were saying. I think they were at their happiest then—because I felt no fear. Everything was peaceful, yet full of wonder.

I remember how big the world seemed. My ceiling felt so high, like I’d never be able to reach it, not even in my dreams. When I was four, I used to lie on the couch pretending to be asleep, just so my mom would take my picture. I liked making her laugh. I remember cutting my own hair once, and surprisingly, she didn’t get mad—because I’d actually done a good job.

When I was six, school became the best part of my day. I loved dressing up in cute shoes and fancy clothes. Every day felt like a fashion show, and I didn’t care—I loved it. Everyone in my class dressed like that. It was just the norm, and I felt like I belonged. Back then, everyone got along. Everyone was your friend. No one felt lonely.

But when did that change? When did people start pulling away?

So many people I once called friends are strangers now. Why is that? Growing up, I was happy. I never felt stressed—only joy. I felt beautiful. I felt pretty. Even the shows I used to watch seemed full of magic. Now when I look back, I feel sad. Is that a sign I’m getting older? I don’t know. I can’t remember everything anymore. Where did those memories go? Why did they leave me?

I don’t want them to. I still want to feel what I felt back then.

Mid Childhood

Then people started drifting away.

My friends left, one by one. I didn’t understand why. They laughed at me sometimes. Did I say something wrong? Was it how I looked? Maybe that’s when my anxiety started. I used to love attention, but suddenly I couldn’t stand it. Was I the problem?

My best friend stopped hanging out with me. I never got an explanation. I kept asking myself: Was it something I said? Something I did?

And then came the biggest loss of all—my abuela. I had never lost a person before. I couldn’t fully grasp it. It didn’t feel real. I didn’t cry, not at first. But I remember crying myself to sleep one night. That was the first time I ever felt truly vulnerable.

I started wishing I didn’t have to grow up. Because if I stayed young, I wouldn’t have to lose anyone else. I thought maybe if I stayed little, my family would stay together. I didn’t want change. I didn’t want to be separated.

Then COVID hit, and everything changed again. I had no friends, no school, no connection. I felt completely alone. But then we got a dog. She was the sweetest, and for a while, she gave me joy. But the fear of death stayed with me.

That was also the time I started hearing more about romantic and sexual relationships. It felt confusing, overwhelming—like I had been thrown into something I wasn’t ready for.

Late Childhood

I was first introduced to the idea of homosexuality around this time. I started questioning myself. Was I gay? Did I like girls? I became close with a girl in my class—my first best friend in that new environment. We did everything together. I could tell she liked me. Did I like her too? I told myself I did… but I wasn’t sure. Was I just trying to fit in with what I saw online? Was I trying to follow a trend?

She also introduced me to the concept of self-harm. She said it was a way to cope. But I couldn’t believe that—hurting yourself as a way to feel better? It didn’t feel right.

Until something else happened.

One day, a man talked about me—about my body—right in front of me. It was suggestive. Gross. I didn’t know how to react. I felt sick. Disgusted. Scared. I don’t even know what emotion it really was. But I felt violated.

And it didn’t just happen once. It happened multiple times. Each time, I wanted to shrink away and disappear. I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it because the topic was too taboo. I felt stuck, ashamed, terrified. I started to hurt myself. I cried myself to sleep. I isolated myself even more—not because I hated people, but because I hated the way they looked at me.

No, not me—my body.

Early Teens

This is when I felt the most depressed.

The more my body developed, the more comments I got. I was afraid. So I cut my hair. And for the first time in years, I felt safe again. People stopped looking at me "that" way. I felt like I could breathe. But people also started treating me like an outsider. They looked at me weird. I didn’t care at first—but then it started to hurt.

I began questioning my identity more seriously. I liked how I looked when I dressed like a boy. But was it a defense mechanism? Or was it who I really was?

For three years, I didn’t know who I was. Was I a girl? A boy? Something else? I hated being seen as a woman. I still do. It feels like a label forced onto me, one that comes with pain and expectation.

Teen Years

Eventually, I went on my first date. I started growing my hair out again, dressing more femininely. I felt like I was reclaiming something—like I was slowly becoming stronger, safer.

But then the world reminded me how fragile that safety was.

The guy I went out with made comments—sexual ones. Right away. I wanted to disappear. Why is it so important to some men to talk about sex? Why is that the first thing they see in a girl?

Why did it have to be me?

I went home and sat in the shower, crying. I cried because I felt powerless again. I cried because I just wanted to go back—to when life was simple, when I didn’t have to think about things like this.

I cried again when I realized I was growing up.

More was expected of me now. More responsibility. More pain. If this is what growing up means—finding a man, getting married, having children—then maybe I don’t want it. Maybe I just want to be happy.

Does that make me lazy? Or… am I just still growing?

How I explain the relationship between ADHD and executive function challenges
How I explain the relationship between ADHD and executive fu...

Hi, my name is MattCarson. I'm here because I want to improve my relationships in my life

#MightyTogether

So there was this girl I used to talk to. We had a bit of a wild thing going on sending each other stuff, and yeah, she was into some intense roleplay, asked me to call her messed-up stuff in DMs and all that. We stopped talking for a while, then she suddenly added me again, saying she had problems with her boyfriend. I had a girlfriend at the time, who I really loved, but I ended up talking to this girl again. Eventually, she sent me nudes, and I gave in and did stuff I regret. We started talking dirty again.

Then out of nowhere, my girlfriend blocked me. I had no way to reach her, so I stupidly asked the girl I cheated with to talk to her and ask what happened. She did but also exposed me and sent my girlfriend screenshots. I was completely screwed.

I begged my girlfriend not to leave me, told her I loved her and that it was a mistake. She said she’d give me another chance if I hurt myself and showed proof. Dumb as I was, I did it. I cut myself and when I did she told me th cut is not deep enough so I made another one and I made it deep and it hurt so bad til I throw up after I done them I filmed it, and even joined some volunteer work she asked for to “fix my mindset” or something. She agreed to give me a second chance.

But honestly, it wasn’t a real second chance. She ghosted me, treated me badly, and made me feel like garbage. Then one day, she pretended she hooked up with some guy in a car and she did some unholy stuff with him and he grab her phone and called ma and told me about it in detail in a phone call turned out it was her friend, but I didn’t know that at the time. I broke down mentally and I cried for days and my body was shaking.

Later, I told her, “Okay, we’re even now, can we try for real?” She agreed. I was loyal, did everything she asked, and still, she treated me cold. Then she told me to cut myself again to prove my love. And I actually did it again. She got a bit nicer, and I thought things were finally getting better. But when I asked her out again she said ok ask me out with a 💌 or something and I agreed but in the next day she straight-up changed her mind and said no.

I kept trying. I sent friends to talk to her, tried again and again, and every time she’d say she’d give me another chance, but never actually meant it. Eventually, she told me she never loved me. That hit me hard, but I said okay, I’ll let go. I was still heartbroken, but I stopped reaching out.

A month later, she unblocks me saying she’s been thinking about me. I thought maybe she wanted to make things right—but nope. She blocked me again after 2 days. I had panic attacks and tried one last time to reach out, but she ignored me and blocked me again.

She added me again as she said to apologize and she actually apologized about treating me bad and I accept her apology and we talked for some days like two days then I asked her are you here to just apologize or do you wanna fix the things up and she said I don't really know so I gived her some time to think about it and we were talking normal for like a day then she turned cold and dry again so this time I tried to joke around but she was respond with dry message until she start saying nope to all the messages I sent to her and that's annoy me so I asked her to stop cuz this make me more anxious then she said haha then blocked me and literally the same loop start again. I made account by my name to try to talk to her, I bought new SIMs to message her but she made me feel worthless cuz everytime I try to reach out she was blocking me without even opening the message so I give up again and let her go.

In the last time She came back again asking me, “Who’s Joseph?” some guy she thought I was pretending to be or Friend of mine. I was done at that point and told her to leave me alone. But then she said she just wanted to ask me a few things. I didn’t care anymore. But she kept chatting and we ended up having a normal conversation for like 3 days. I asked her why she even came back—was it to fix things, be friends, or what? She said, “We’ve been done for ages, bro.”

That was it. I told her I’d remove her to heal and move on, since clearly she wasn’t here for the same reason. The next day, I saw she blocked me—even though I had already removed her and told her I wouldn’t chase her again.

Like... why block me again when I already said goodbye? I just wanted some closure. Some explanation. But I guess I’ll never get that.