Best post ever. And ultimately the most depressing to read and realize... my best years, where only a few precious moments were like Nicole's description (only from a dude's POV) were before age 21. 20+ yrs later, it's galling and terminally depressing to know, I will never again experience such a thing. Rather than wonder WTH I did wrong to marry a woman who has utterly no concept of any of this stuff... I'll just go back to work and be another walking dead 40-something dude. *puts bag on head and shambles off*Ugh, so completely sad and horrible! And so... just... true. There's a certain particular hideousness to sexual loneliness within a marriage that is its own private torture. I mean, it's not really the kind of thing that people talk to each other about, despite it being, I think, quite common.
Witness this Twitter response--I won't identify the writer so as to not get him in trouble with the wife--to My Wife's Body by Anonymous Husband: "Sad post for me because I adore my wife but we have never had sexual chemistry and I feel that way about her being but not her body."
The problem here is a partner who is nice enough, a loving parent and all that, but they just don't...well...get sex. Or there is no chemistry. Mainly, and most depressingly, there is a completely upsetting lack of the kind of soul-shaking, hot mind/body fuckery that makes life worth living and whatnot.
Hmmm..... Well, when I am right in the middle of a good bitch session, my friend Leah is fond of saying pointedly, "Okay, we have identified the problem. Now let's work on solutions!" This sort of makes me want to punch her, because I do so enjoy complaining, but the girl has a point. So solutions. Anyone?
I mean, what's Jack to do? I somehow think that putting a bag on his head and shambling off--while being convenient as well as inexpensive--probably isn't the best solution here.
But can you teach someone passion? Can you create chemistry where none lives? Is it wrong to yearn for the kind of transcendent, universe pulsing sex that makes your whole body shake?
I have no clear solutions today--sorry Miss Leah--but I will offer you two routes that readers have taken. I neither endorse nor condemn either. Anyone who's making an honest, clear-headed effort to find workable solutions is okay in my book.
The first is from reader Noelle (not even close to her real name) who, faced with a sexless marriage and an uninterested husband, finally gave up and started having anonymous affairs during business trips. You can read about it here in Noelle: Finding Sex Outside Her (Practically) Sexless Marriage.
The second is from reader Liza who somehow managed to break a 10 year fuck-less marital stretch so definitively that her blog Always Each Other is pretty much a lovingly pornish detailing of the various and sundry ways she and her husband have their sweet sweet way with each other.**
Anyway, you there! You clearly have it all together, do you not? What say you to Jack and everyone else in this situation?
Place bag on head and forge ahead? Light sexual fire under reluctant spouse's ass? (Caution: use metaphorical fire only.) Say "fuck it" to social mores and possibly a fine-enough marriage by banging someone hot on the side? Go it alone with a willing hand and good memories? Channel unfulfilled lust into excessive interest in scrapbooking?
I thank you in advance for your attention to this matter.
*In the essay, Daedone--the gorgeous teacher/practitioner of Orgasmic Meditation (a practice which sounds about a thousand times more fun than focusing on your breath)--describes a really really good fuck. There were hugely swollen body parts, soaking wetness, something about a honey blanket orgasm. Whatever. The #$%$ was good.
** What the hell happened? According to Liza, "I don't know exactly when the buildup began, but sometime early last year I started to have...feelings. And then I felt like reading sexy stuff. And then I wanted to touch myself again." Liza also makes passing mention of a "medical procedure" that helped with things. More info on that if she answers the rudely nosy email I sent her.