They're being polite when they call you "strange." What they really mean is "sick," or maybe "dangerously possessive" or even "disturbing control freak." What in hell do you think happens during a gynecological visit, anyway? Trust me, it's NOT the kind of thing that conjures images of romance.
My husband now goes to a female doctor, and I couldn't be happier because all I care about is his health, not whether she might feel stirrings of lust when she handles his junk (which I know she doesn't because she handles junk all damned day).
There's something pathological about your beliefs. I hope she runs screaming from you while she still can and before you can tie her up in your basement, you disgusting freak.
Is it normal that I feel depressed about this?
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They're being polite when they call you "strange." What they really mean is "sick," or maybe "dangerously possessive" or even "disturbing control freak." What in hell do you think happens during a gynecological visit, anyway? Trust me, it's NOT the kind of thing that conjures images of romance.
My husband now goes to a female doctor, and I couldn't be happier because all I care about is his health, not whether she might feel stirrings of lust when she handles his junk (which I know she doesn't because she handles junk all damned day).
There's something pathological about your beliefs. I hope she runs screaming from you while she still can and before you can tie her up in your basement, you disgusting freak.