For women raised in "purity" culture

We had been dating four months... I was a committed "virgin until marriage," because i was reared with that expectation. Although i had decided to love him, i was not "In love" or infatuated or head-over-heels. And even the decison to give love to him was made at his request, at his insistence. I had turned down his requests for sex while willingly participating in any other experiences up to the line... you get the idea. I believed that sex and marriage were linked permanently and i did not want to chain myself to anyone until i was ready. I made it crystal clear. Yet to him, sex was the only thing he wanted, the ultimate prize. He kept on and on about it.... That weekend had been fun. He had asked me to marry him and i had, incredibly, agreed. We had no ring, just a pledge between us. That night we were preparing to leave my grandmother's home after visiting family and he was my ride back to our college campus, a trip of several hours. We sat on the couch, and he renewed his assault on my sexual boundaries, but this time his emotional arsenal was charged with bigger firepower. How could i turn down the man i agreed to marry? Didn't i know it would break his heart? In a huff at my refusal, he stalked out to his car with his things in hand. He was leaving me behind... my ride was leaving me. I chased him, caught up to him, and threw my pride away. Asked him to forgive me... asked him not to leave me... and promised him the sex he required.

On the ride back to school i felt grown up and liberated from my childish reticence... i had leapt into womanhood at last. That is what i told myself. When we arrived at school i paid him in the agreed upon currency. And in my belief system at the time i was bound to follow through with the marriage as well. It was that simple. I will never know how much of that night was a boy being selfish and how much of it was a purposeful trap... perhaps it was not meant as such, but i know that i was indeed trapped regardless of intent. That is my story. Compared to the others, it's kinda dumb... but it has shaped my life.

Edit: Because people want to know how it turned out, i will tell you. We had two children because he wanted a family. I went to work professionally full time when my daughter was an infant because he told me he just couldn't handle working anymore. I supported him through years of outbursts, alcohol abuse, and failed attempts at schooling and working. I fielded lonely nights, the constant reek of wintergreen tobacco, slovenly habits, and mediocre, emotionally fraught sex. I tried twice during times of great crisis to get away from him... i could not get him to separate from me. I attended church without him for almost a decade, tried to keep my misery in a box and did a fair job of it. I felt obligated to care for him. I thought it was my calling from God. I struggled with the blackest hate until i decided to let it go, and i worked hard to stop judging him.

One day two years ago i sat down next to a tomboy lesbian at a pub and realized with deep certainty that i desire women. After much struggle I gave up the identity of the "ideal wife." I told him i wanted a sex life on my own terms and he had to accept it. He became consumed with bipolar eposides. We were quite unstable. This lasted until he hit my son and me in June of this year. I called the police and finally jad reason enough to make him leave for good. Now i have a life mostly free of manipulation. It's been a great adventure. I am 41 years old now, and that college girl is grown up. I am not a "good woman" anymore, but if God loves us all, i have joined the rest of the sinners in living life and hoping for grace.

I have been dating a wonderful woman and we are very happy to have found each other.