Rylie’s Story: The Dangers of the “Nice Guy”

I was with the “nice guy” for 4 years.
He was “the nice best friend who waited patiently until he got out of the friend zone” guy.
He was the “I’m single because I’m too nice” guy.
He was the perpetual victim.
He had sustained years of bullying, that is true.
But in his mind that left him unaccountable for anything he did from that moment on.

Because he was wounded.
Anxious.
Couldn’t help it.

Because all the cruelty he had endured meant that he himself could never be cruel.
He was the victim.
I was the harlot.

He made me relive every sexual experience I had ever had:
And then shame myself for it.
How many people had I slept with?
Why did I fuck this person that time?
Aren’t I ashamed for dating that person for so long?!

He told me that saying me no to sex made him too anxious and hurt and he would self-harm in front of me so that I could see how much it hurt him.
And would then have to comfort him.
So we created euphemisms for no.

Until the word NO no longer flowed freely from my lips.
Until doing something I didn’t want was permissible as long as he wasn’t hurt,
Until shutting myself off into a corner of my mind while he satisfied his needs and nursed his ego with my body and I waited patiently for it to be over.
And I didn’t say no.

I said “let’s get this over with”
“Okay but a quick one”
“No I don’t want to be done, I don’t want you to touch me, let’s just have sex okay?”
“Yes I’m enjoying it but are you close to being done?”

And I didn’t say no.

Living together meant that avoiding sex was near-impossible.
When saying “not now” bought me a little time.
But meant that I couldn’t say no later.
Because I had promised.
And how could I expect him not to be upset at me saying no now because I built up his expectations earlier.
By trying to BUY TIME.
By trying to connect with him on another level.
To convince myself that he was a good guy who loved me.
So that I could endure what came later.
Inevitably.

But I didn’t say no.