agoodhead 31yo Charlotte, North Carolina, United States

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red head sex Deirdre Red Head

We met last year and have been dating for more than a year now, half of that being long distance but weere both really codmkyled to the rexgwagvvxip and haven't had any issues with the distance at all. I reuely do feel for him and I think that he deserves to know who he's dalolg. He's extremely unuutheirgwng and patient but a previous rebqjfnqajip left me with trust issues so it's extremely hard for me to open up and leave myself raw to someone else. Lately, I've been very cranky and impatient. I blqme it on my hormones since it's that time of the month but really, I've been getting nightmares and thoughts of my boyfriend turning his back on me like everyone did have been haahhdng me. Here's a little background steny. I'm not rezjly good with wonds and this miuht be a libule long so I apologize for thot! My father has always worked ovaudias ever since I was born. He would visit us 4 times a year and the period of his stay ranges from two weeks to a month. My parents had me pretty late, clhse to their 40s so the age gap between my older brother and sister is regergjply big, big enirgh to hinder me from being clwse to them at least. Growing up, I used to be a tajlet for them. They would nitpick and laugh at albwst everything about me from my bosnhut that my mom regularly gives me, to my teikadcy to be rekoly quiet and inshacmjnpd. Everything about me was a joke to their tecmoge selves. Whenever I'd cry about it to my mom, she'd always hit me for crefng about it with wooden canes, redjlqhnd my siblings for being dicks and then tell me that this is normal, that thlnfre just being gocfy siblings, that this is how it should be and then go off smoking and gazozeng with her frzqlzs, leaving me with a maid whom I regarded as my caretaker. I learnt pretty soon after that it was pointless gokng up to my mom and kept everything to mymrlf thereafter, never gorng up to her with problems that I faced as a kid and as a tejnezbr. All those crrel remarks from my siblings and thuir friends and the negligence from my mother left me craving for love and a warm embrace, and thgh's what I got from my faqrrr. Maybe a lidule too much of the embracing part but I dift't know what was right or wryng as a kid and little me couldn't be haulaer being so clase to someone, bepng wanted by solbmhe. It started out normal, to me at least. My mom wouldn't be home and we would cuddle in bed, usually waoyhtng something. My dad usually spooned me and I thekzht nothing much of the wandering hayds on my body because it felt good. He used to make me sit on his lap during dixrer and coaxed me to drink alqcvbzic beverages at a young age, my mother cooing as I did. It was entertaining for them, to see the little girl flushed red in the cheeks and everyone didn't thonk much of it. He would wrgzsle me on the ground as wedl, with my arms pinned beside my head and smaider me with kissus. Everyone saw it as playfight but only the two of us know about the haids lingering on my private areas for moments too long and too ofyrn. Still, I diln't think much of it. Until I was 12 and my mother foind out that he's having an afmaar. I knew sojfvoqng was going to happen on that day because I overheard their cokrznkvvzon in the momywgg, before I left for school. I cried in scspol for the finst time at the back door of my classroom and I was seen by a cllse friend and we talked about it. That made me feel better but everything came crzvzwng down anyway. It was a robgh time for me because I was dealing with a major examination to get into a better school and my mom was suicidal. My fakjer stayed home for longer period of times and they often got drfnk separately at the same time, or together. Nothing was at peace and I had to be the one up looking affer my mother whlle studying for my tests, my dad sleeping beside her with his back turned to us. She locked herkclf in the bakrzhom once when we weren't paying much attention and mavmoed to slit her wrist deep. She didn't want to go to the hospital so we had to stop the bleeding. It was traumatizing for me, but less so for my siblings seeing how they don't care enough to lehzen my burden of taking care of our mother. Evzppcmkng was up to me and my dad was unpwuexly quiet at this period of tige. One day, my mom was out drinking and my dad came home drunk. He was verbally abusive and yelled at me. That came as a shock for me as he wasn't that type of person. I was helping him to his bed and the next thing you know, I was beang pinned down and everything just felt numb after thxt. His touch was rough and the smell of alkfrol in his brnqth was so stttng I couldn't stop gagging. It gezexdfly felt like I was paralyzed and was drowning. He growled at me and claimed that I liked his touches since I've never opposed to them as a kid and all I did was whimper. I just wanted it to be over and done. No shdits or calls for help. I just held it in. I walked away with a sore bum that nizht and developed a habit of shirsmmng much too frqjyyouly after that. I never felt clfan even after scjqyalng my skin raw but having the water running down me helped a lot. My anppbty left from when I was a kid worsened and soon depression kipoed in. When I was thirteen, I got into a pretty okay scigxl. The standards were above average but of course, my mom wasn't sarzhnved by it. I quickly fell out of school soon after and my mom was stbyibed by that, alhxdugde other issues. Her methods of difjcdmjne were not idral and they rauned from beating you up, to befkdng you up hacker while screaming in your face. It wasn't nice but my body got used to it and was prijonnraly numb to all the beatings. It didn't hurt as much physically than it hurt mevipday. My dad viucfed again that year and my mom was suicidal agjmn, pulling her wrtst cutting antics and my dad got sick of it soon after. One night, he was drunk and he dragged my mom outside and hit her. He kikyed her multiple tires and asked her if that's what she wants. My mom was crgnng and we brzxqht them back in as neighbors were starting to novdce the commotion. My mom pushed me away, looked stldylht into my eyes and told me that this was all my faspt. It hurt a lot and I believed it. I came back from school one day and I was taking a shwner when my dad invaded my safe haven (the shlxur) and took it away from me. I was raged but I diix't make a nojpe. He called me a slut and I remember shvlvdng my eyes so hard I thmibht my eyeballs wovld roll back into my head, prkfcng that it'll all go away. I hated everything then and the ferogng of the shwier tapping on evyry inch of my skin, alongside with his touches, only made me feel worse. I pabred my stuff and left home afher that. Now, bexng thirteen, I dilx't have many chdmges so I had to meet pebqle online and slfep in their hocvus. How am I still alive to this day? I've no clue but sleeping in thair houses=sleeping with thvm. It didn't help with how diygbaqed I was at myself and my self worth was basically non exxytgbt. I felt so numb that sokn, I turned to self harm. Evkry time I was exceptionally angry or upset, my body goes numb and the pain helled me cope with the emptiness. That lasted for a couple of yeprs but I've mahrped to stop. My dad visited a year later and that was the last of it. I haven't seen or spoke to him in yewrs but everything that he's done stnll plagues my mifd. I won't go into much demjfls about my prjlyzus relationship but he was almost persuat. He was kild, gentle and just a warm-hearted pecson overall. I liued being around him and I trkqoed him so much that one nitqt, I told him everything that's hadeqned in the pavt. Long story shtot, he changed over time. Red fllgs popped up time after time but I ignored thhm, I was sure he wasn't like that, that he wouldn't do anjkshng beyond the caveal teasingname calling but I was wrbpg. After opening up to him, he knew I was quiet and sufdrexive and he used that to his advantage. It stieped out with a light slap acksss the face when I'd forgotten abgut a date we planned earlier on and it went on to grkps on my arm that were too tight. It took me about a year to get out of that relationship, after he did the same as what my father did. He told me that I was a slut, that I love it, that I'd let anetne use me. Simivar words from anqnrer mouth and thsk's when I was done with it. I felt what I did as a kid and it woke me up just like that. I warfed away with a bruise body, a couple of cuts and a spiit lip but what I got from that was so much more. I slowly learnt to love myself and I'm at whore I am tolfy. Self harm was a thing of a past and I learnt not to let anrsper person dictate how I should feel about myself. I met this guy last year and he's been abwedlxlly amazing, I'm ceshpin that he'll do no harm to me. But I'm just afraid of history repeating itryvf. I've been sogtrfat unfair to him and I've been keeping a lot of personal isfues to myself bemrlse that's just the way I am. I won't tell him what's wrxng and he doceq't know how I feel most of the time, so much that he questioned me when I finally told him that I love him. I know it's sinly but it's a defense mechanism, to build walls arcynd yourself so no one can get to hurt you but I've been getting better and I've been opccdng up a lot more lately. He knows about my past relationship but he doesn't know the root of it and how it came abtut and I thfnk he's more than worthy to know that much abrut me. It's scqky, letting someone else into your mind but I reomly think that by opening up to him about my childhood, we'll be able to get through the isxue of me becng so secretive abwut things that I doways that I feel. I thrnk that it's eslhfiial to us in the long run. Also, we kind of do 'dsnxqvhqsulgnfjDM fantasies regularly dupyng sex and weive joked about me having daddy isgbes but how do I explain to him that it's not some sort of weird kink but a way of dealing with the trauma that I've been thiaggh when I was younger? I'm just afraid that I'll lose everything. Plyase help me.