#believingyoudeservemore

[divinelydivorced]

Divorce: Sex

Don’t worry.  I am not going to reveal the intimate details of what happened in our bedroom, only one painful conversation we had.  I also want to talk about sex within a marriage and how many of us, including my ex and I, go wrong.  Raised very Christian, sex was not a topic that was openly discussed.  Around the time I was going through puberty, in a twenty minute car ride home from grocery shopping, my mom told me about the factual components of having sex.  I was so embarrassed I wanted to crawl inside one of the plastic Walmart bags jiggling around in back, open the package of Fig Newtons, scoop out one cookie’s filling, and smoosh myself between the soft cake-like edging that remained.  Besides being literally impossible, I was an overweight kid and it would have never worked.  Instead I listened and when my mom asked if I had questions, I said an affirmative “NO.”  

If I ever had questions about sex, (“what’s a condom?” or “can I pretend my Barbie dolls have sex?”), I’d wait until my mom was in the bathroom or doing my sister’s therapy, so she couldn’t get up or make eye contact.  This would allow me to quickly shout my question, with a wall between us, hear her answer, and then run and hide for hours, hoping enough time had elapsed and she’d forgotten about it.  Needless to say, it was well after college before I lost my virginity.

By then, all I’d seen about sex was on TV or in movies…and even then, I’d still look away out of fear my parents were four rows back watching the same thing and I’d be caught. I didn’t even understand how the logistics worked.  In my mind, it was all so mechanical, you’d just stand in front of each other, proclaim to the universe “Now we shall have intercourse!,” our clothes would magically fly off, and one of God’s angels would push us together for twenty seconds. I also was terrified of getting AIDS or anything that made me scratch a lot.  If a guy ever crawled on top of me, fully clothed, while we kissed, I was 98% positive I was pregnant when my period was two days late.  I was an idiot…an uninformed idiot.

Luckily several friends quickly scooped me under their wings and gave me the in’s and out’s.  By the time I got married, I was not well experienced but I got the gist of it all.  Yet, for some reason, sex in marriage seems to…well…suck.  This is one area where entertainment does not exaggerate. Many of my friends stopped shaving their legs, most wear less attractive under garments than they used to, and several talk about never having time anymore for “that.”  The stigma of sex in marriage, especially Christian marriage, is that it is off-topic.  It’s supposed to be boring because if it’s exciting it’s wrong.  Worse, it’s intended for men, not women.  As a result, many married women don’t enjoy sex and they view it as a chore.  The cliché of “letting yourself go” is also very true.  Taking care of ourselves physically after marriage seems to be a luxury, not a necessity.  Therefore, not feeling attractive in our bodies, many people lose sexual desire. Plus, once you’ve been with someone for so long, it’s as if you no longer quite want what you can easily have.

While this is what many couples experience, I was in the minority.  Because once I finally discovered what sex actually was and what it could be, I was all in!  The actress in me has always loved exploring the idea of more.  I always want to experience it all, in every possible way.  Once married, the God-guilt went away, and now I was ready to indulge in a 24/7 sex marathon for eternity.  In fact, I wasn’t even embarrassed to talk about it anymore.

I joked with my friends about sex, wanted to exchange secrets and tips, and I wanted to play and have fun in the bedroom.  It definitely took some getting used to, some bravery at first, but I wasn’t afraid to say “let’s try this” or “what if we did this instead.”  I don’t know.  Maybe everyone does all that stuff in their teens and college years so by the time they get married, it’s old news.  But for me, I was just getting started.  Or maybe I was just wired different than many females.  In fact, many friends have told me I was more the male in the relationship when it came to the physical component.

For me, sex was a way to feel closer to someone, yes, but it also offered a huge stress relief.  I once had someone tell me, “if you’re ever mad at me and won’t shut up, I’m just going to take your pants off.”  He was right-worked every time.  Sex was everything.  It was love, lust, anger, frustration, fun, excitement, and sometimes best when simply bored with nothing else to do.  But my partner didn’t see it the same.

Here’s where we go wrong in many marriages, particularly the Christian ones.  Most marriages are made up of two people with very different sexual needs.  Some of us not only can have sex when we are mad but need to in order to channel that energy.  Others, when fighting, the last thing they desire is for physical closeness.  I imagine, in the latter state of mind, sex can add insult to injury.  Yet we don’t talk about it.  Talking about sex in marriage seems so faux pas that we resort back to the same embarrassment we felt when our parents had “the talk” with us in our minivan years ago. So, inevitably, someone’s needs go unmet.  Those who are less sexual think it’s okay to deny our partners sex as they need to understand where we are coming from…yet those in need of sex, as a result, never get a chance to be understood either.  No one’s needs are getting met…in fact, they are getting completely denied and shut down.

In my marriage, we talked about this.  I tried explaining where I was coming from and what my needs were, how sex for me translated to love.  Without it, I felt undesired, unwanted, and uncared for.  I was often met with shrugs or rash explanations of not being that sexual. It was a “don’t know what to tell you” and “I’m not going to even try” situation.  Again, I don’t think this is uncommon in most marriages today.

This is where my resentment came into play.  I’d waited so long to physically be with someone and now I was being denied.  At this point, too, I was still young, in great shape, and adventurous…isn’t that what men desire?  After years of begging, pleading, flirting, and cajoling my husband into making love to me, I was exhausted.  It got to the point where I’d ask and be turned down so often, it was humiliating to even try.  So, I tried another route and said, “I want us to consider having an open marriage.” An open marriage is usually when one partner is given permission to have a sexual relationship outside the marriage. There are all sorts of variations, opinions, and rules on this, but what I was proposing was a simple opportunity to get my sexual needs met elsewhere.  We’d take the pressure off of him to provide me with what I needed. After all, he was allowed to go out with friends who met his social needs, go to work to get his self-esteem needs met, or go to the gym to get a physical boost.  Why couldn’t I do the same in this area?

But, really, I was bluffing. I had no desire to go elsewhere. I stood in front of him, physically shaking.  Never had I been so nervous or vulnerable when making the proposition.  I said through tears, “It’s no secret my needs aren’t getting met.  Sometimes I feel shameful because I’m built different.  But sex makes me feel loved and I don’t want to be embarrassed to ask you for it.    So, if you won’t have sex with me, will you please allow me to have sex with someone else?  For this to be one thing we don’t have to argue about.  Please don’t misunderstand.  I desire you.  I want you.  I don’t want anyone else.  I want to have sex with you, my husband, so that I feel closer to you and loved by you. So I can show you what you mean to me.  It makes me anxious to even ask this of you because I don’t want this to be the final straw that drives us apart.  So, please, think long and hard about this.  Because if you don’t want me with someone else, I’d love to hear you say that. And I’d love to try together to fix this part of our marriage.  Nothing would make me happier.”

He stared at me with cold, distant eyes.  Then, without even looking away said, “You should definitely start sleeping with other people.  I don’t need to think about it because I don’t care.”  And he walked out of the room and began preparing our dinner.