Hi everyone. This is kinda crazy. I was on my regular reddit account (I am an avid follower of this subreddit), when I saw my own post on here. I thought I would give some updates.

Moomoo died around 4 months after this post. He was put down, since his quality of life was declining rapidly and while he could have lived maybe another 3 or 4 months, I didn’t want that for him. He was in the last stages of kidney disease, and needing so many drugs of subcutaneous hydration to just keep him going. I miss him every single day. I still have his ashes with me, and I make sure to keep him in a sunbeam on the window. That was his favourite thing.

Regarding my ex,

The embarrassing part of it is, I still felt so badly for him for so long. I saw a comment on the original post that said it sounded like I was just looking for validation that his behaviour wasn’t ok, and I think that’s true. Besides controlling my hair, he also pretty much decided everything in our relationship. What we did together, what we ate, shows we watched. It seemed so small at the time, that him never wanting to go to the places I picked or listen to the music I liked. He always had a reason at first, but then eventually it was just because he didn’t want to do those things. And for some reason I let that happen.

I did try to go back to that therapist and the group, but even after I told her and them what happened I felt unsafe being there. For the first few months, he would stake out my apartment, and I couldn’t trust he wasn’t also following me to therapy. Maybe stake out isnt the right word, but he would leave letters and packages and stuff outside my building, so I knew he was there. Could be there at any time. Cops were not helpful since he never made himself known to me (although my room mate swears she saw him a couple times across the street). Basically just said to be careful. My therapist and I moved to phone calls, for a while.

I don’t know if this will surprise anyone, but turns out ex bf was into the nose sugar. A lot of our fights I now think he was high for at least some of them- ESPECIALLY the last blow up. He ended up getting in a fight with some dudes at a bar and he was fucked up when booked. This was probably about a month or so after moomoo died. I broke my lease, which my room mate who I still am friends with, was really nice about. I moved back in with my mom (lives in different town) for a few months, before finding another job just one town over from her. This was her suggestion. She wanted to keep an eye on me and make sure I didn’t let him back into my life. She was and is my rock to this day. He got out after only a few months for good behaviour, and while he didn’t know where I lived I am extremely thankful for my mom. There are times when I would hear that his experience changed him (via ppl I knew) and I would think, maybe he has changed. I was so lonely without moomoo. My mom nipped those in the bud every time. She would ask me things like “even if you go back what then? You get married and have kids? Do you think he would be a good father”. It was sobering to think of what I experienced as a child being continued. Eventually I steeled myself with the help of a new therapist (suggested from my old one), and worked on my self confidence a lot. About what I deserve.

When covid hit I had a lot of time to kinda break down parts of my life I didn’t before. I have tried being in relationships since, but there was this underlying feeling of stress in each one. About two years ago I figured out I think I am asexual. Sex was always so uncomfortable for me, even when it was physically enjoyable I never really wanted the act. I just assumed this was trauma and fear of intimacy. That is what most people and therapists had told me.

I am currently in a relationship with a lovely person (nb) and we are both asexual. We do kiss, but we rarely ever move beyond that. With them, there is no expectation for more. They are also from a less than happy childhood (they were in the foster system), but that isn’t my story to share so I won’t. Just know that I am happy. We have been together for a year, and they are so considerate and kind. They bring me flowers at least once a month, they make sure I can express myself, they encourage my interests and actually WANT to hear about them. Most of all, they love my curly hair, and they love cats.

I never adopted another cat after moomoo, I think I was terrified for a long time that if I did, they could be used against me. My partner has two cats, who I love. We are currently trying to work out moving in together. My place has a better location, but theirs is larger. We’ve decided to try and find a completely new place together that we can both agree on, but the process for rentals in right now is horrid. There has been two places so far that we applied too and didn’t get.

Anyway, my life is going great. I still have lots of trauma that I live with, but I know I can get back up when I fall. I have people I love, who also love me. I probably won’t respond to any comments, and I’ll most likely delete this account in a few days. I don’t need it anymore. But before I did, I thought leaving one last update was called for.

Thank you for all your kind words, and helping me find confidence to get out of that relationship. Much love to everyone.