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Sorry if this winds up a repost - looks like my original disappeared for some reason

Wannabe here. I wanted to share with you some things I gleaned about my own cuckold psychology while working on a hobby project for myself.

I just finished writing my first draft of a novella in which I accidentally worked through why I am obsessed with wanting my wife to cuckold me. It was supposed to just be the story of a crumbling marriage and a professional breakdown, with lots of mental health (bipolar II) considerations, but cuckold themes emerged swiftly and became both a central event and a metaphor for all the psychological themes. Here's what I learned about myself in the writing.

I used to think it was just a kink. But the more I wrote, the more I realized how deep it runs for me. I grew up kind of on the outside — Asian kid in mostly white spaces, rarely chosen first, often excluded, but always trying to prove I was worth noticing or worthy of recognition. That took the shape of perfectionism.

Out came some formative memories from when I was younger, especially wanting to feel my tiger parents' love and approval but it always being out of reach, no matter how hard I worked or how much I scrambled to be the perfect kid and be worthy.

I think that's what led to my being low-key obsessed with wanting to be a cuckold (I'm just a wannabe right now). I have a hard time feeling like I am a worthy person.

At work that means I've at times scrambled, in a bipolar II sort of way, to chase ambition so that I could try to get some sort of undeniable proof that I am worthy. Something that would actually register with me.

At home that means that I scramble trying to help myself believe I am a good husband, even though I am objectively successful professionally and have put together a good life for my family. There's just something deep in the core of me that is pathologically convinced I'll never be enough for my wife especially, even though she assures me that I am.

In the story I got to explore what it would mean to me if she actually would actually cuckold me. I've concluded that if it made her become fully satisfied and alive sexually, and she still chose to stay with me, I would feel so very relieved. I could be absolved of have any exhausting responsibility to be enough, but I would still know I mattered. Over time I sexualized that desire, and so here I am.

I will say that I have experienced quite a catharsis weaving those themes into writing. I worked on it on and off over for the last 13 years, a lot of therapy, and the act of writing finally forced me to crystallize and articulate why I am this way.

It was also good to get some of this fantasy into a creative outlet, as I have felt some frustration in not having this kind of experience IRL. I feel better now, about everything - my mental health, my relationships, my marriage (even if this fantasy never becomes reality for me). Heck, I even realized I should probably make a career change! (Thinking about it.)

Anybody else find something similar through journaling or art or writing or whatever?

I did it heavily through journaling and through art. My ex-wife did a kiss for a short film and she danced burlesque on stage. She had male dance partners with intimate performances, that teased the idea she's interested in them sexually. It stimulated my fantasies and I journaled about them. It was a blend of realism and fantasy. At the time I was utterly nauseated by it. I would watch the kiss, and it was a fake film kiss, but they actually locked lips, without romantic intent but with a real touch. A male dancer on stage would hold her breast, with no possibility of sex, or it going further, it was just a performance, but he actually held her breast. How much more did she want. The performance was that they were interested in each other, but it was a performance, but he actually touched her intimately.

I journaled about it. At the time it was on a website Experience Project, which has sense been shut down. I wrote candidly about my experience watching her kiss another man, about watching another man hold her breast. I was nauseated. I was jealous. I was angry. I was envious that he touched my girl's breast and I couldn't touch his. The more I wrote, the more I noticed another feeling. I was aroused.

Thanks for posting

Gidran wrote: ↑

Sat Jul 05, 2025 10:18 am

Here's what I learned about myself in the writing.

I used to think it was just a kink. But the more I wrote, the more I realized how deep it runs for me. I grew up kind of on the outside — .........

Anybody else find something similar through journaling or art or writing or whatever?

I didn't achieve my better understanding through journaling. I spent many hours lying awake in bed, or on long drives, questioning why I have all of the weird seeming kink fetishes that I have. I lived with mine for decades, from my youth, before the internet existed. I did a lot of theorizing and self-examination, trying to decide if there was something wrong with me. I concluded that it was just the way I had developed, or was wired, and I decided not to feel guilty, because none of them were any fetishes that hurt anyone else, or we're harmful to me. Even my BDSM interests are mild, and not to the point of serious self harm. So I decided to accept them, and enjoy indulging in them. Later, when the internet came out, I found all of the discussion groups on the internet, for every fetish I had, and I found out how common they were.

I have posted on here previously, my revelations about how I developed cuckold fantasies, along with small penis humiliation.

I have never had the kind of looks, or skill talking to girls, that ever had girls throwing themselves at me, or falling at my feet. I finally figured out more about how to relate to, and talk to girls, when I got to college. I had success dating, but I had to work hard to get the girlfriends I had. I had to use humor and be the good guy that they would eventually figure out they wanted, instead of the bad boys and jerks they would gravitate toward first.

I got plenty of rejection, and I had girls who often put me in the friend zone. I started finding it kind of a turn on to get turned down. I would deliberately ask girls out, who were so out of my league, I was certain I would be rejected. I would go home later, and weave rejection and humiliation fantasies around the girls I had asked out.

It became a fun game for me. On a Friday or Saturday night, I would go into the crowded college pickup bars to have a couple of beers with some buddies, and watch girls dance. I would often pick out a table of several really gorgeous, self-absorbed seeming, sorority girls, and declare to my buddies, that I was going to ask one of the girls to dance, or ask for her number. I would feel a real sense of excitement, feeling my heart race with anxiety, as I approached their table. In a loud and crowded bar, I had to get close to them, for them to hear me, and I could often smell their perfume. When I got rejected, I felt a sense of thrill and excitement, particularly if I heard them break into laughter as I walked away from their table. When I'd return to my buddies, they would tease me, but also congratulate me for being so bold, as to be willing to crash and burn so exquisitely. I would go home later, and masturbate, fantasizing about the girls who had rejected me.

I also was often put in the friend zone by girls I tried to date. I often found myself in situations where I did favors for girls who had put me in the friend zone, and have them cut lunch short with me, to go join up with their boyfriend. I often fantasize about being with those girls.

I started to develop a lot of fantasies about forbidden fruit, the women I couldn't have. The women I lusted for, who I had no chance of being with. I also developed fantasies about the various reasons why the women would reject me. I developed fantasies that they would belittle me and humiliate me by telling me I wasn't Worthy and my penis was too small.