This is worthy of discussion on how we are percieved as an industry by some women.
I was innocently looking for Christmas present ideas on his computer. Literally, I was typing in “fireplace tools” in Google. And, as he turned to me and said hey, let’s watch this show together, I knew I had to quit. Me, being the Web geek that I am, immediately went to his Web history to erase my clues. That’s when I found it: a full history of porn sites. How did I know? Well, let’s just say the terms were a bit revealing. Shocked, I clicked on one. Password protected. Wow, not even just porn history, but
registered porn history,
credit-card-paid-subscription porn history. My stomach sank.
We have been together now for a year and a half. I recall casual conversations about this in the early days, and I’m pretty sure I asked and I’m pretty sure he denied. I remember having the “have you ever watched it with another boyfriend/girlfriend” conversation and I recall him saying yes and me saying no. I know I asked about it because my last boyfriend hid it from me, and I also discovered it, at which point he got angry, defensive, and accused me of being inadequate.
So, you can see where my baggage begins
Cut to this relationship: much more open, much healthier, happier, and I dare say, great in the sex department. Great, meaning traditionally great—nothing too non-traditional, no costumes, no toys, no role-playing, and until this moment, no porn. So, my first thought was—why? Should I have initiated a costume? A toy? Am I not enough? I looked over him, his image on the couch with my dog starkly opposing the names I was seeing in his history (and not just the names but the amount of sites—I mean how long does it take to get horny on a Friday night when your girlfriend is out of town?). In my last relationship I would have just closed the browser, silently freaked out, and waited until my next bottle of wine to unleash irrationally on the topic. I am slowly learning that this is not always the best way to open a can of worms. I couldn’t take it. So, I just called it out. “Hey, I was searching for your Christmas present online and found all of your porn sites.”
We talked about it. And, it reigns up there as one of the most uncomfortable conversations I think we both have ever had. He was not defensive, nor was he angry. In fact most of the time he was blushing, like a little kid whose mom found Playboy under his bed (note: I do NOT want to be anyone’s mom, but this was the emotion I felt). After a while a few things came out of him and of me:
The rest of the paranoia here