Part II
Honesty... The Ultimate Aphrodisiac
It happened during a moment of intimacy; it was a wince, a slight push away, it was an overwhelming feeling of discomfort. I had no idea there was a problem, but I was sure that there was something wrong.
Since the very beginning, the beginning of our relationship, intimacy has been the 300lb elephant in the room that no one would discuss. On the occasion that we tackled the obvious, the result was an argument. We fought. We fought over frequency, variety, and even time of day. One claimed that a lack of intimacy was to blame for the lack of sex, and of course, one claimed that the lack of sex was the cause of a lack intimacy. Both argued our sides with passion and fervency… neither was honest.
It’s funny; courtship can be awkward and uncomfortable. The constant second-guessing and wondering makes for peculiar situations and all the while decisions are being made about the future. For instance, the first sexual encounter can be both exhilarating and exciting while at the same time a complete and utter disaster. The irony is that over time we learn the triggers that elicit appropriate responses. We learn those triggers during the gauche fumbling over one another, stumbling upon discovery rather than following a detailed map. Once the proverbial “spot” is found then the discovery process is completely omitted. We hone in on the source of the climax rather than enjoying the slow and steady ascent that produces it. As in life, the journey is no longer the focus. Instead we concentrate on the destination missing the beauty and wonder of discovery. It takes a partner to slow us down and to remind us that there is pleasure in awkwardness and ecstasy in calamity.
So now the speed has been slowed down considerably, now there is no deliberate act to finish, only to please. However, there still exist a roadblock, a perpetual barrier.
Dyspareunia.
The word is cerebral and malignant. Just to speak it or hear it is invasive and confrontational. Its inelegance is matched only by the oxymoronic nature of the word’s meaning: painful sex.
Sex should never be painful. The thought of pain during an act that should generate feelings of joy and bliss is disheartening at the very least. Pain is what she was experiencing. Now couple my previously admitted thoughts of sex with my wife’s desire to comfort and reassure her husband and it is no wonder she was so abashed to confess: this hurts.
Plagued by thoughts and feelings of inadequacy she quietly endured the agony of her wifely duties. Absurd? Tell the husband who searches for a job, “it’s okay honey, I understand.” Empathy falls on deaf ears when you feel insufficiency and lack. There is the constant fear that a replacement lives in the recesses of your partner’s fantasies.
I provided no comfort because she was so convincing in her ruse. Instead I convinced myself that I was asking more of my wife than a wife should ever be expected to give. “How often is too often?” I asked myself. I searched various references while taking full responsibility hoping to find proof that I was being unreasonable. I wanted to be grateful for each encounter although my body craved more. It wasn’t until the night that I realized the face she was hiding was immersed in tears that the truth stumbled, malevolently into the room. The feelings she refused to share were rueful and filled with shame. As any husband would, I froze. I halted immediately all activity that I know realized was invading and the cause of her pain. I was the culprit… me and my ignorance.
You see understanding that sex does not equal love was my first indoctrination into the true meaning of marriage. Marriage has to exist beyond sex in order for it to enhance it. The lessons we learn in life are often brutish and uncomfortable. Quite often we must look within ourselves for solutions even when we think we have identified the problem in others. How can I attempt to offer my wife reassurance or empathy when I have not accepted that my own distorted view has exacerbated the problem? I have taught her to love me. I have instructed her how to fill a void that ultimately would not cease my feelings of emptiness. Imagine being equipped with all the wrong tools and then tasked with what would eventually be the impossible. Now imagine those tools don’t work. Had I been honest to my wife and myself then we could have approached this situation together, on one accord.
Conversation, true, revealing conversation became a necessity in our lives. She shared with me that not all of our intimate moments were painful but because she couldn’t be sure, all were treated with the same trepidation. What began as a gentle kiss or an endearing touch could lead to an excruciating paradox. I shared with her that I believed I was causing her reluctance, and that our failing sex live was somehow a result of our failing love life. The truth can be so simply ridiculous.
The spice was ruining the dish. It was overtaking the flavors creating disharmony. The secret ingredient began to atrophy our delectable recipe as well as our palates. So now we are forced with a decision. Do we remove this cancer in hopes that the marriage will work without it? Unfortunately we discovered that a meaningful relationship depended upon a healthy sex life. We began to realize that without moments of intense and unabashed intimacy, everything begins to unravel.
So now we must start over. Healing is necessary and questions must be answered. A complete and total adjustment of all that we thought was true must become the focal point in order to continue. Complete honesty, we hoped, would soon become the ultimate aphrodisiac.
My goodness… where on earth do we start?
