The solution to our sexual problems seemed clear. Our libidos don’t match anymore. They haven’t since I had kids. I’m not a fake it ’til I make it gal. My husband’s favorite line is, “I just want to have sex with my wife. You’re my wife.”
You want mind-blowing sex? Fine, go out and get it. I’ll give you a FREE check my source PASS. A “hall pass” to pound. A roundtrip, a rump ride – with someone else.
The idea had been stewing abstractly for years. It started when I began to feel guilty for not screwing my husband after the birth of our two babies 16 months apart.
I thought in my mind: We have a good marriage, we get along great, our kids are happy, I’m happy – why screw it up by not screwing him? If sex is that important, he can go somewhere else to get it.
It just seemed so unfair, though, to me, to us. Why is a sexless marriage an automatic precursor to divorce? How can not having sex negate all of the other wonderful things about our marriage? Why was it sex, or nothing?
At this point, psychologists and shrinks would be telling me to “do it anyway.” That a healthy relationship is “all about intimacy.” They’d urge me to “try harder, even if you don’t feel like it – you’ll get in the mood.” I need to “schedule sex.”
There is more than enough good stuff to sustain us, as a couple, as a family, while the romance of our relationship takes a rendezvous
I tried all that. I’ve shagged my husband plenty of times when I wasn’t in the mood. And you know what? It’s repulsive. It’s a disgusting feeling. With wine, it feels tolerable. I even initiated some nights. I broke out my sexy lingerie and pounced on him like a porn star. I was pretending to be horny. I was faking a libido. I was acting, just so my husband – and the world – wouldn’t tell me that I was doomed to divorce.
Pause. In case you’re thinking that my husband is a bad bone, let me put that argument to bed right now. When we do have sex, it’s off the charts. So don’t go there.
I hate sex if I’m not in the mood
As much as our sexual Sahara bothers my husband, it bothers me too. Why can’t I be super sexual again? Why don’t I ever feel like doin’ it? Why can’t I pull out the wild pony tricks of my past? How can having a baby ruin my libido like this?
I refuse to believe that romance wholly makes up a marriage. I know there is great stuff here. If our marriage goes on a hot-and-heavy hiatus, does that mean we’re going to hell in a hand basket? That we’re destined for the big “D”?
“I just wish you’d fuck someone else. Have a free pass. Don’t let me know – just do it. I can’t fuck you like you need. Just be safe, and don’t fall in love.”
My eyes welled up, but no tears. I looked down at the ground. Didn’t he understand? I offered because I DO love him.
“Yes, I’ve run it over and over through my mind, I feel like it’s the only option to make you – and me – happy. I just feel all of this pressure. Pressure to be a good, hot, skinny, sexy wife who knows how to bone you like a freaky prostitute, and put dinner on the table, and ask you how your day was, and be this loving mother to my kids – oh, and kick ass at my job. It’s too much. I just can’t take the pressure anymore.”