Sociopaths' Sexual Boundaries - true love scam recovery

Sociopaths’ sexual boundaries.
Vague, twisting, bending, illusion.
Sociopaths’ gender and sexuality is fluid.
Sociopaths play with anyone in their path.
Seducing vampires in human skin.

Sociopaths’ sexual boundaries change with their prey. This might seem a bit odd, but remember from our point of view, everything about a sociopath (even if you’re calling them a narcissist) is odd.

What I mean by this is that sociopaths have hidden netherworlds that not every one of us gets to see. Or more to the point, they have habits and tendencies that are not shown to every one of their prey. They decide prey by prey how much of their debauchery and what “flavor” of their sexuality to let out of the bag.

Sociopaths’ Sexual Expression

Sociopaths present a “persona of normal”. They piece this persona together as best they can. They wear this face so they can walk this earth among us.

It seems these dull-witted creatures have gathered the significant tips that they need in order to hook us. in that every sociopath knows that they must “put out” sexually in order to best ensnare prey… Because sex is important and signifies a real connection to us.

To establish a “romantic relationship” naturally, sex would need to be part of this in order for us to believe we’re in something real… Something real and normal. They know this.

Their sexual boundaries, their sexuality, and their sexual expression as presented to each prey are a part of what they use to bind people to them.

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Sociopaths’ Sexual Pull Ensnares the People they Use

The pathological user’s sexual boundaries, their sexuality, and their sexual expression – as presented to each prey – are a part of what they use to bind people to them.

Remember: this too is a presentation, a facade… Until you get to the heart of their dark sexuality. Then you’e see that they ignore prey sexually, use prey for sexual entertainment including violence, use sex as blackmail, a binding tool and that they “put it out” absolutely anywhere they feel a an urge to.

No matter their outward gender, no matter the gender of a target, sociopaths coax out the same trust. Lure in, and administer the same feigned care, take with the same malevolent agenda.

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The Sexual Facade Is There For Us All

They execute the same duplicity. Evoke the same pain. Elicit the same fear. Let slip the same bone-chilling words that reveal what they really are, in truth so evil our good and sweet normal minds reject it.

He’d empty his pockets littering the dresser; the cards scattered like grubby, smeared candy wrappers. Evidence. Cards from Nikki, Janet, Mike, Simone, Tony, Darren, Heidi… an in-take of men and women. Party favors from a good night’s prowl.

Our head spins. This is trauma. The world as we know it, and our place in it, sliding out from under us. And being the gorgeous humans that we are, we must reconcile their bizarre words with what’s right and good. This is normal. They aren’t.

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Sociopaths’ Sexual “Anything” Has Nothing to Do with Love or Normal

Seeing sociopaths’ sexual boundaries and gender as an open-ended expanse, colored in and molded to fit whichever prey dangles in their claws, is a hideous revelation.

This is a hard one to accept, but as I made my escape, I absorbed the truth of this. In the earlier days after I kicked him out, I had to gather evidence for my green card fraud annulment so I contacted every woman I knew of that he was involved with. Each and everyone that I suspected as an “other woman”.

Head-Spinning Revolting Discoveries From Other Prey

A sociopaths’ sexual reality is another piece of the mask that falls away, another bottom that drops.

Among the flock of women he kept in his grip, one of the designated fiancés asked me, is he bisexual? One of his girlfriends asked, is he gay? There were more… it went on for months.

Standing frozen with my phone to my ear, another so-called fiancé of my so-called husband told me, …yah, we’d get really drunk and he’d f–k me in the a-s every night. A wall slammed shut somewhere inside me. I couldn’t hear any more. Not another word before my mind broke.

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Their Stories Spin Our World

It was more than I could take without losing my balance. My head spun, the earth fell out from under me, and another part of me opened up to a whole different picture of this Mr. Charming, this amazing husband of mine.

A part of me knew this was the truth, this was the creature I was married to. I was married to a lying, deceiving, hideous “thing”. I grabbed on fast to that truth and let it save me.

Con Men Sociopaths Reject Prey Sexually

All the while, early on the sociopath con man I married refused to be sexual with me. Mingled in with the confusion and pain of this, his rejection brought out a compulsion, a desire to please, to appease him.

Bizarrely I’d been dragged by his story telling into a sickening moment of the only sexual intimacy I ever really had with him, not an experience I enjoyed, but one purely for his pleasure.

Hoping to bring intimacy back in place as it should be in a marriage, I’d risk a glance his way, try to get in a word, linger in a room where he was, try to touch his hand. Wanting so badly to seem natural, casual and to hit-it just right so it wouldn’t make him mad, but would make things normal. It didn’t work.

I discovered that the sexual rejection by a sociopath does something that lands us right in the palm of their hands. Our feelings of rejection while under their spell falls in their favor. They observe this. They can’t comprehend why or how it works exactly… but they know it.

The thing is, any and all of our normal reactions are what land things to their side of the court. In this case, sexual rejection, and rejection of intimacy, rather than leading us to break up with them immediately, first – and maybe for a long time – makes us try harder. The desire for connection consumes us, then desire becomes drenched with pain, and then it’s only pain.

Normal Means Giving the Benefit of the Doubt

I also spent time giving the benefit of the doubt. I looked for answers that didn’t include straight-out rejection. Hopping onto the internet, googling away, I discovered something called sexual anorexia, or intimacy anorexia.

This is a condition that keeps people from intimacy with their primary partner but renders them highly promiscuous. The other listed traits of intimacy anorexia, such as childhood abuse (he claimed), and all the rest fit what I’d seen or been told by him about himself. With a very heavy heart, I decided this was the problem. The heavy, sad weight of what I saw as my future can’t be described.

Normal Couples Face Things Together

I imagined – and feared – facing this together overcoming this as a couple. Talking about this was not simple and came with dread. I think this dread was an effect of the quliaty of their presence rather than what I might have felt if her were a normal person with actual sexual anorexia.

Then one evening the right timing seemed to be in place, somehow not only was he at home and not busy fiddling around online or in another room, but the topic of our non-sex life was open. This was as far as our intimacy ever went and it was rare. I knew this would be my only chance to try and talk about it.

In our first months together he’d sit up until early in the morning talking and talking. I’d sometimes sit on the floor at his feet, his simpering, agreeable audience. I have no idea why I sat at his feet. My knees bent on their own spontaneously and I lowered to the base of his chair to the carpet.

We Do What We’d Never Otherwise Do Under Their Spell

I’d never in my life sat at anyone’s feet with one exception: I sat in the same way at the feet of one other man years before… I now also know this other man was also a sociopath.

So, as I folded to the floor, inside myself I thought how odd this was and wondered at it still. I could see myself in my mind’s eye in this pitiful, weak, bizarre position and setting. Who was this? It felt like a play or a dream that I wasn’t dreaming but that played in my mind moving me through it like a marionette.

Sitting on the floor at the end of the couch where he was laid out so that I was as “next to him” as I ever got at this point, I gently, quietly said, it could be sexual anorexia…

I stopped myself short as his face pulled into a contortion like a wild dog showing its fangs. He spat at me, whisper-hissed and snarled in disgust somehow mingled with a smirk and amusement at the idea of my stupid notion, tttsssszzz, sexual anorexia!

A Sociopath is Never in the Room for the Reason We Are

I didn’t say another word. I had seen his ind at work. Rather than being hurt by this rabid rejection and disdain, I observed him. He was exhibiting glee at a new discovery mingles with amusement that I was seriously looking for reasons fo this sexual absences other than because he’s a sociopath and this is what they do. In other words, he was proud and pleased and amused that I still considered him an actual normal human and was taking the time to “solve our problem” as a couple!

So, he saw that I was still hooked… and: he discovered a new thing he could claim as a excuse for not having sex with hie prey. I had given him something he could use. Something he hadn’t known about that would draw empathy for normal people and buy him time in their lives.

He was also laughing at how preposterous it was that I thought he might have this condition when in fact, he was highly sexually active, though never with me. My sincere confusion and pain over this was a sign to him that I was deeply hooked and still “in”. This is what every sociopath needs to monitor. I’d done his work for him (again) by bringing up this concern it proved to him that I was indeed locked into place and saw him as “normal”…. or normal enough to still be there.

Normal Tires, Fixes, and Stays

My genuine worry and attempt to “fix us” showed to him that I was “in place” as prey. He had no interest in a discussion about it. His response was motivated by his preference that I shut up, and it had his desired effect.

He had no such problem as sexual anorexia, but me spending time thinking that he did in essence paid the way for his presence in my life for a few weeks more in which he well and truly tore things up.

By the violence of his response, I’d say for certain that my attempt to talk about it also signaled to him that things were wearing thin for me, that I was closer to that moment when the spell breaks than he’d like. It meant he needed to move quickly to take more, which he did. And indeed, 90-days later I kicked him out. – This dynamic is what’s actually happening in any scene or moment with a sociopath.

Confusion Stays and Pain Remains

His compulsive and predatory sexual-hunting glared in the crinkled business cards he collected and carried home like little prizes of potential. He’d empty his pockets littering the dresser; the cards scattered like grubby, smeared candy wrappers. Evidence. Cards from Nikki, Janet, Mike, Simone, Tony, Darren, Heidi… an in-take of men and women. Party favors from a good night’s prowl.

In retrospect, looking at it from the psyche of a sociopath, and when put together with the things his “other” women had said, What I realized was he’d been talking about himself.

He spent the next day sorting the cards, shuffling them in his paws while he sucked on a Heineken. He passed them off as potential “business connections”. – He was big on networking.

Sociopaths’ sexuality is rampant, in my hell it showed up in a string of gold foil-wrapped condoms that fell from his pocket as he undressed at 5:00 in the morning after one particular night’s prowl.

This happy event took place on Valentine’s Day morning, with nothing else to mark the day aside from my discovery made as he lay snoring, drooling onto his pillow on the couch.

Sociopaths are Highly Sexual and Sex is Their High

Hands shaking, stuffing the longer string of prophylactics back into his pocket, I let two golden, shiny condom packets that were on their own unattached to the others lay on the carpet at the back left leg of the chair his pants were dangling from. It looked like they’d fallen from his pocket on their own.

Coercive Control Arises Spontaneously From Their Influence

The sexual dynamic we’re drawn into with a sociopath, what we accommodate or bring ourselves to tolerate under their spell is never our normal. It is theirs.

People tend to think of coercive control as the obvious blackmail or threat, If you don’t do this, I’ll that! kind of tit-for-tat orders. It can be. But it isn’t born of that and does not first begin like this.

Our morphing how we are and what we prefer to fit them is in fact the coercive control And we do it mostly without ever being asked. This is the very confusing an heartbreaking aspect of the power of sociopaths. It’s the bit that makes us ache in agony and wonder how we could have done what we did.

Coercive Control In Sex Or In the Kitchen is Identical

The fact is the element of, and the effect of coercive control kicks in the moment we think they’re attractive, nice, cute or funny. It kicks in the moment we meet even if we don’t think they’re cute, if they keep at us for about 10 to 14 days, it’s possible we flip in that two weeks. We’re in. It’s a grip that comes from their very breath and infiltrates our very being before we can say Bob’s your uncle.

This is normal and very, very misunderstood. This is why people on the outside looking at us in a mess on the floor afterward can only shake their heads. It’s why we rail in tears when by ourselves, muttering, why did I, and I should have. It’s what leads us to believe it’s all our fault… and what some feel entitled to say happened because of our “lack of boundaries”. They are wrong.

Please know what ever we did under their spell is normal. Everything we did, whatever it was, is okay. That everything will be okay.

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As a certified coach, upholding industry standards I strive to inform, educate, invite thought and dialogue, to co-plan, co-strategize, advise, consult, refer, recommend, train, teach, guide and coach people in guided recovery and discovery specific to these crimes, and from hell and broken in the aftermath to whole again, and more. You decide what winning is.