Not a Nympo or How a Closeted Gay Man Can Drive a Straight Girl Crazy

Lying is exhausting. Keeping up someone else’s lie you didn’t even know about can be down right destructive.

I swear, on a stack of Bibles, I did not know my husband was gay. We started dating when I was twenty-one, I first discovered his gay pornography our second year of marriage when I was twenty-five, he stopped lying about the gay porn our fifth year of marriage when I was about twenty-seven. It wasn’t after the loss of a pregnancy and his big “change” around the tenth year of marriage that some trusted friends started pointing out some hard truths that I could no longer ignore. But really, only when I believed that I could make it on my own did his lies no longer work on me.

Instincts Should Not Be Ignored

Instincts are real and should not be ignored. It is often what is your “gut” reaction. Your gut reaction is your body’s response to stimuli in the environment before your “logical” mind or your ego has a chance to interpret or misinterpret. Your logical mind can decide if it was indeed a gunshot or an old car’s engine backfiring after you have ducked. The best way to bypass your gut and even your logic is for someone you trust to convince you that you are crazy. When that trusted soul has convinced you are crazy and you cannot trust yourself let alone anyone else trust you, it becomes that much easier for them to lie to you. There is less of story to invent and less lies and alibis to keep track of. If you convince someone that they are crazy, bad, gross, slutty, and untrustworthy you have complete control over them. This method is referred in psychology as “gaslighting.” Please see the link for more information on the topic.’s go back to this Nympho nonsense.

My Ex-Husband had a Two Step Process: I’m crazy and a slut
1. Convince me and everyone else (including trained medical professionals who should have known better) that I was mentally ill.
2. Part of that evidence of my “mental illness” was that I was depressed and hypersexual. That combination will get you a diagnosis of “bipolar disorder” which will get you prescribed a whole host of medications that will get you so doped up that you don’t bother him with sex, or anything else for that matter.

Brilliant. All he would need is a pampered cat to stroke and he would be a proper villain.



My ex-husband’s plan, which is nothing short of emotional abuse, worked like a charm. He couldn’t make me more silent if he had cut out my tongue. There was a time when I was on a mood stabilizer, an anti-depressant, an anti-anxiety, and something to help me sleep. I wrote in my journal when about five years in my marriage that “All of these meds make me sleepy, fuzzy, and gain weight, but at least it is killing my libido so I’m not bothering ***** as much anymore.” For some reason, I thought that this was okay. If a girlfriend told me she had the same experience I would counsel her to get counseling…and a lawyer. Funny, when I got divorced, I got off all the above and never felt better. We were having sex less and less and I had a hard time getting aroused, not that he helped with that, and even a harder time climaxing. I thought I was the problem, not him. There was a time when there were a lot of late night sex under the influence of Ambien. In the morning, we barely looked at each other like it never happened.

Then There was ALL the Psych Meds….

When I wasn’t doped up on any number of needless medications (needless for me, not for other people who actually need them) my ex-husband tried to make me feel like I was a nympho. He thought I was “hypersexual” and even tried to convince my psychritrist I my hypersexuality was a symptom of my bipolar disorder. Yes I was depressed because I was living a lie I could not speak and everyone, my family and OUR friends kept telling me how happy I should be. My husband did not love me, I was on all these drugs that made me tired and gain weight. My only outlet of comfort was food, movies, and TV. I was a mess. I was depressed, I was angry, but I was not mentally ill and I was certainly not a nymphomaniac.

Nymphomaniacs are really sex addicts who need professional help. Sex addicts will do anything for sex and are never satisfied. I only wanted to have sex with my husband, rather vanilla sex in hindsight, but I could be satisfied. Sure it was the more “shallow” clitoral only orgasms. I had not yet discovered the deep satisfactory “internal” g-spot orgasms. The internal versus external orgasm deserves its own post. I only desired my husband and he could make me happy in bed, even though towards the end he made every other aspect of my life miserable.

The Patriarchy Isn’t Helping

Our American post-Puritanical culture is based on women feeling bad about their bodies and especially their sexuality. I think some of the fear and shame dispensed about women’s sexuality is just how powerful it can be. We can have sex whenever we want, there is an endless supply of men who want to fuck us (depending on one’s standards), we have the ability to have multiple orgasms, and we can fucking make babies. Men can produce sperm and get erections and that is pretty cool, but neither particularly reliably. I’m just kidding. I love men. I love erections, no matter what shape or form as long as they are for me.

You deserve this! All women deserve to feel this good. It can happen.

You deserve this! All women deserve to feel this good. It can happen.

orgasm 2 orgasm 3

The patriarchy is a real thing. You throw some old time religion in there and you got some serious repression going on. If you feel like your friends, family, and the whole of society is against you, you may be right. Men are believed before women by default and women are seen as “emotional.” If he has tried to convince you that you are some kind of sex-crazed slut too, all the better…for him. Women perpetuate the patriarchy more for themselves and to other women that men hardly have to try at all. We are so indoctrinated with the patriarchal rule of submission to men and modesty all in an effort to be a “nice girl.” Being “nice girls” is the favor we do for men to save men from feeling like assholes trying to reinforce the patriarchy. They don’t because they don’t have to. Just another job women do better than men. If your man is calling you a “nympho” to justify the fact that we won’t make love to you because he is busy screwing someone else than that is on him, not on you. If there were some medical reason why he could not make love to you like a heart condition or diabetes, you know he would run, not walk, to the doctor to solve that problem. Either that or he would be reading up on some techniques to work his tongue or his hands to keep you happy. Men do know themselves. They know if they stop fucking you, someone else will take their place. Calling you a “nympho” is an attempt to shame you so you will take the pressure off him yet you won’t go to anyone else. If a gay man is lying to you about his sexuality, he has a reason to keep you, and its not just your cooking.

Believe In Yourself and Your Power to be Pleased

Just think what would happen to our economy even the very scratchy, binding fabric of our society if women across the country actually felt good about themselves, their bodies, and felt entitled to the orgasms their bodies are designed to deliver. The economy would come to a screeching halt, we would never hear about cellulite ever again, and women would worry less about crow’s feet and more about smile lines because they’d be so happy from all the orgasms they’d give themselves or teach their partners to provide. I live in that world. It’s awesome. Please join me.

It can be like this.

It can be like this.

On last thing on this so-called Nympo jazz.

One of the last conversations we had before we divorced and I left the house he said this.

“Charlotte, you’re pretty, you’re smart, you have your own job, you come easily, and you initiate. Clearly there is something wrong with me.”

If you are even half of the above, then there is something wrong with him, not you.

P.S. I don’t hate gay people or anyone on the LGTBQ spectrum. I think everyone has the right to live their truth. I do have the right to my truth and to tell to my story about my abuser. The fact that he happened to be gay complicated the issue.

About Charlotte Jay

After 12 years of marriage, I could no longer ignore that my husband was gay. I am pretty much over the sexual orientation debacle, so now what? Life3dblog is essentially the coming of age of a thirty-four-year-old woman and the journey to one's self. Life after marriage, redefining love, sex, and that pesky weight issue too.
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