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Good marriages exist, true love exists. I hope my story inspires someone

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I’ve always been creative. I used to fantasize about meeting my future husband in the best-case scenario. That mindset was shaped by the movies I watched, and as a writer, I made a long list of the characteristics of the man I wanted to marry. I’ve always maintained that, even if I lower my standards, my husband must be tall and bear a beard. In my teens and early twenties, I dated a variety of men. Some were my specifications, while others were not. Even those who met my criteria failed to impress me enough to convince me that they were the one. There was always something missing.

So, even though I was in a relationship with them, I knew it would end sooner or later. Years ago, I took a job in an unfamiliar area and began taking a trotro to work every weekday. After a while, I noticed this particular guy board the car around the same time I did, and we exchanged glances but never said anything. When I closed, I would occasionally see him at the station. But it was usually the mornings that I boarded with him. I used to think he was a nice guy, but he wasn’t my type. I would have preferred him to be taller and to have a full beard rather than a goatee.

The mate was collecting fares, as usual, one day, and I was sitting behind him. I saw him try to take money out of his pocket, then he started fidgeting and telling the mate that it appeared he had left his wallet at work and that he could send him momo if he wanted. The mate began to complain about how smart thieves are these days and how they come up with different stories all the time. No one in the troski spoke up to defend the gentleman. The mate told him that unless he stopped playing games and paid the fare, he would make him alight where we had gotten to. That’s when I arrived and paid his fare. It only cost ghc2.50. The man turned to thank me. I knew he wasn’t lying because I’d ridden trotro with him several times. He said he’d pay me through momo. So he asked for my phone number, which I declined. He insisted, and I refused. I met him at the station the next day, and he forcefully paid for me. That day, he got my phone number and we became friends.

Even though I was enjoying this guy’s vibes and company, I was still a stubborn girl who wouldn’t let go of the spec I had in mind. He asked me to be his girlfriend only a few months into our friendship, but I declined. I told him I wasn’t quite ready. I was 26 years old and still acting like that. Fortunately, he did not ignore me after my childish behaviour and we continued to talk every day. I was still denying my feelings for him as they grew stronger. But at some point, I realized it was either accepting his proposal or letting him go. I couldn’t imagine not talking to him every day, so I agreed to his proposal. I can still say that it was the best decision I ever made after Christ.

He still respects me and treats me like a queen after 5 years and two children. The best man told the story of how we met because of ghc2.50 at our wedding reception, and it was a really funny moment. All of his friends are aware of the story, and they make me feel awkward by reminding me all the time. I’m just glad I learned to let go of the physical characteristics I had written down for my future husband and embrace the one I got. We sometimes believe that we will only have feelings for our spec, but I am living proof that this is an illusion. My husband is not particularly tall. I’m slightly taller than him when I’m wearing heels. He has gained weight since our marriage, and his stomach continues to grow. We make fun of it together, and he is working on it. But my feelings for him are growing stronger by the day. I hope we aren’t ignoring our husbands and wives because we are looking for a feature that may be unrealistic. I believe in giving people the opportunity to succeed. There are good marriages and true love. I’m hoping that my story will inspire someone.

Source: Anonymous Confessions

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Woman confesses that her spouse always defecates in bed as he’s ready to ‘cum’

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"I've been married for eleven months now. My spouse has had this problem since we started dating till now. The problem is that whenever my husband and I have sex and he is ready to cum and it is at its climax, he eases himself into the bed. "We've tried to get him to stop, but he always complains it's too sweet and he can't contain himself. As a result, we decided that he would always relax himself before we started having sex. "But he will continue to do it while cuming. I refused to give him sex while we were dating because it was horrible. I married him because despite it, he is a responsible, nice, and caring spouse."

A Ghanaian lady who is married to a “loving and responsible husband” is looking for help dealing with what she describes as “disgusting” sexual encounters with her spouse.

The married woman with two children has said that her husband always defecates in bed when he is at his height of ecstasy during sex.

Revealing her traumatic situation to Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3, she stated that she is considering quitting her eleven-month marriage because she cannot bear it any longer.

“I’ve been married for eleven months now. My spouse has had this problem since we started dating till now. The problem is that whenever my husband and I have sex and he is ready to cum and it is at its climax, he eases himself into the bed.

“We’ve tried to get him to stop, but he always complains it’s too sweet and he can’t contain himself. As a result, we decided that he would always relax himself before we started having sex.

“But he will continue to do it while cuming. I refused to give him sex while we were dating because it was horrible. I married him because, despite it, he is a responsible, nice, and caring spouse,” she narrated.

According to her, the situation is impacting her mental health because all attempts to settle her issue have failed.

“I’m going through a lot because it makes me puke; mentally, I’m breaking down. I’m not sure whether to quit the marriage because we currently have two children. I tried every possible solution to the problem, but nothing worked,” she said.

She is presently seeking assistance to deal with the circumstance, as the problem is harming her mental health.

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I prefer to masturbate than have sex with my husband – Lady shares ordeal

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She stated that she has always felt sexually unfulfilled after intercourse, therefore she chooses to masturbate to satisfy herself rather than having sex with her boyfriend. "Within two minutes, he had come. As a result, I avoid him and prefer to masturbate to satisfy my sexual cravings since, as soon as we start having sex, he has come and the item will stand," she said Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3.

A Ghanaian woman has expressed her sexual discontent with her spouse.

The lady, whose identity has been kept hidden, told Confessions on TV3 that her spouse never stays in bed for more than two minutes.

She stated that she has always felt sexually unfulfilled after intercourse, therefore she chooses to masturbate to satisfy herself rather than having sex with her boyfriend.

“Within two minutes, he had come. As a result, I avoid him and prefer to masturbate to satisfy my sexual cravings since, as soon as we start having sex, he has come and the item will stand,” she said to Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3.

Meanwhile, Life Coach Ebenezer Quaye, a guest on the show, encouraged lovers to share feedback to each other after participating in physical intimacy with their loved ones.

This, he argued, will inspire spouses to work on their sexual deficiencies.

“If you are having sex and do not receive feedback from your wife, there is a problem.” Wives should also provide feedback to their spouses. “It’s so nice and encouraging,” he commented.

He also gave some strategies for improving sexual shortcomings between lovers.

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How my husband sex trafficked me for 13 years

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When I was about 14 years old, one of my neighbours came over and invited me to a pool party. "It's going to be fun." She said. "Sure. "I would love to." I didn't have many friends, so it felt good to be part of something for once. I got my bathing suit and followed the girl. Before we arrived at the place, we encountered a small gathering of teens. There was one person who stood out from the crowd. He had everyone's attention, and everyone wanted to speak with him. My companion began heading towards them, and I followed her.

I learned that life was unfair at an early age, and in the worst way conceivable. My stepfather used to sexually assault me, and when I eventually had the bravery to denounce him, he received only three months of treatment as punishment and was allowed to live with me again.

My mother brought him back for financial reasons, but she kept us apart. They slept below, while we slept above. Nevertheless, I was traumatised and lived in terror. As if I hadn’t gone through enough pain, I met a man who I believed loved me and who sex trafficked me.

When I was about 14 years old, one of my neighbours came over and invited me to a pool party.

“It’s going to be fun.” She said.

“Sure. “I would love to.”

I didn’t have many friends, so it felt good to be part of something for once. I got my bathing suit and followed the girl. Before we arrived at the place, we encountered a small gathering of teens. There was one person who stood out from the crowd. He had everyone’s attention, and everyone wanted to speak with him. My companion began heading towards them, and I followed her.

“Hello, Greg. I invite you to meet my buddy Wendy. “Wendy, this is Greg.” She spoke to the guy.

Greg turned to me, smiled, and extended his hand before saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

At that point, my knees were weak. My heart began beating, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Can I get your number?” He asked.

“Sure,” I responded and handed it to him.

I didn’t expect him to call, but later that night he did, and we spoke for hours. That was the start of a relationship that led to my being sex trafficked.

Greg understood how to make me feel appreciated, which is all I wanted. We became amorous quickly, and I fell pregnant soon after. I had been under my mother’s care since I was 17 years old when I had my child. Greg demanded that I leave my mother’s house so that we could make our relationship work.

“How am I going to do that?” I asked.

“I’ve got a plan. You may relocate to a shelter, where they will consider you emancipated from your parents, and then you will be eligible for welfare checks, and we will be able to get an apartment and live happily ever after.” He explained.

At the time, it seemed like a fairy tale, and I was all in. I ran away from home, and Greg took me and my kid to a shelter. However, life at the shelter was not as easy as Greg made it appear.

It took long for me to receive my first welfare check, and I was running out of baby goods. So I contacted Greg and told him I needed money to take care of our child.

“Don’t worry, I have a job for us to do.” He said.

I assumed he meant cleaning people’s homes because that’s what he told me he did for money. So I picked up my kid and went to see him.

“What are we going to do?” I asked Greg.

“Well, you’re going to walk up this street, wait on that corner for a man to pick you up and you’ll have sex with that man in his car and he’ll pay you.” He explained without emotion.

I was perplexed and apprehensive, but he kept bringing up my daughter and insisting that if I loved her, I would do it. I felt like I had no option. My knees and hands shook as I proceeded to where he had instructed me to stand. As soon as I arrived, a car stopped in front of me, and the driver requested me to get in. That’s how my spouse started sex trafficking me.

“I know a place we can go in the woods.” He said.

I did not say anything. When we arrived in the woods, we both exited and walked to a private location where he began removing his clothing. I took off mine, we had sex, and he gave me the money before driving me back to where he had picked me up.

When I came out, I went to Greg, who was still standing in the same location and handed him all of the money.

“I love you.” I knew I had made the proper decision in choosing you as my wife. He said.

We went to purchase diapers and formula for the baby and had a little extra. However, a week later, we were out of diapers again.

That time, he encouraged me to take on two or three customers so that I might earn enough money to leave the shelter.

“Do you want your daughter to live in a shelter for the rest of her life?” He asked.

From there, he started one of the greatest prostitution networks in the region. It comprised four to ten females from various states. He sexually trafficked me for 13 years while I was still married to him. It varied from once a week to every other day, depending on how much money he received from the other females. I worked as a street girl, and escort, and made house calls. Not to add that I have two more children with him.

People continually questioned me why I stayed with him for so long, but no matter what I told them, they couldn’t comprehend what I was going through. Greg hooked us to drugs and physically abused us if we attempted to escape. He would also send the other girls to find any girl who had gone and beat her until she returned. I felt bonded to the other females since we weren’t permitted to have outside contact. So, anytime I managed to flee, I felt horrible and returned because I didn’t want them to suffer.

After 13 years, I was finally free of Greg. I had recently given birth and was in the kitchen making supper for us when I noticed police cruisers outside our house. The cops swooped in, arrested Greg, and detained me for interrogation.

However, I refused to talk to them because I was afraid Greg would beat me if he found out. Because I did not comply, they accused me of sex trafficking and sentenced me to 23 months in prison. Greg was also charged with sex trafficking and was sentenced to ten years in jail.

My children were removed while I was in prison, and because the judge in the custody case felt I was a sex trafficker, she promised that I would not be granted custody of my children. When I got out, I returned to school and earned an associate’s degree. In addition, I returned to the same judge who heard my custody case to request custody of my kid. I went with my attorneys, counsellors, and even the police officers who detained me to explain my situation to the court.

She returned my child to me, and I returned home to live with my mother, who sadly died later. Today, I feel comfortable and satisfied, which is a wonderful place to be. I’ve realised that there are individuals eager to help those who have faced the same hardships that I have, and if you’re going through anything similar, you don’t have to suffer alone or in silence.

This narrative is based on the Unfiltered Stories YouTube video.

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