Sex... An Exploration in Three Parts (Part II)

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?

Sex... An Exploration in Three Parts

*Disclaimer: The following is as true as I can possibly allow myself to be truthful and as appropriate as I can be while remaining honest. I never wanted to get involved with writing a blog for the sheer “shock and awe” aspect of writing. My desire is to be informative, interesting, entertaining and most of all, ingenuous. Having said that, today’s’ entry is quite controversial and I pray my words create more understanding than controversy. My plan is to discuss sex as it pertains to a marriage and Endometriosis. In three parts I will tackle an issue that thousands of couples struggle with daily.

Part I

Up until about three years ago, if anyone asked me to define love the word sex was sure to be an intricate part of the definition. Sex is a word that doesn’t necessarily evoke the same thoughts or feelings in my relationship as it once had or that it will. Anyone who has suffered from or at the very least, is familiar with Endometriosis is very much aware that sex is… an issue.

In order to be completely candid and transparent, the sex issue has to start well before my wife’s diagnosis or even our marriage. The sex issue has to start with me. As I said, my understanding of love was so deeply intertwined with sex that they were often seen as fraternal twins in my eyes rather than the distant cousins they actually are. I learned the hard way through much more error than trial that understanding the difference between sex and love is imperative to having a fruitful and meaningful relationship.

I ruined my first marriage. I ruined it because the equation I used for love was as follows: sex² x sex = love. In order words, the more sex I received the more I was assured that I was loved. It was as if having a vivacious sex life was no longer a component of a love life; it was the vey proof that love existed. From experience I can say that not only was the thinking flawed, it was incredibly dangerous. Combining sex with love or desire creates an insatiable need to feel…

I have had and continue to have issues with lust. I don’t have issues with sex because my wife is the only woman I am having sex with. Since the first day of my marriage I cannot honestly say that she is the only woman I have lusted after. I have seen women and allowed my mind to dangerously flow freely with thoughts of being “loved” by other women. What’s the danger? They are just thoughts…

Thoughts are soon manifested into action, which is usually followed by consequence. It is for that reason that I freely and openly admit that I am not the type of man to just engage in harmless fantasy. I believe that we all have our demons. Some are plagued by alcoholism and others fall prey to drug abuse. Drugs have never been an issue in my life and although I enjoy the occasional glass of wine or beer, I am the quintessential social drinker.

I’m sure there are men who are able to subscribe to Playboy magazine or occasionally frequent a strip bar but I am not one of them. I do not put myself in social situations, regardless of how innocent they may seem that may cause a loss of judgment. I don’t… because I can’t. I know the dangers of Internet pornography because they are more than just pictures or movies. They are a beckoning call, a false belief that the act I am witnessing is performed as a desire for emotional closeness. Sound silly? I agree. The idea that a woman who knows nothing about me nor will ever know me could possibly be saying, “I love you” with a perverse sexual act is ludicrous. As ludicrous, I suppose, as the thought that a bottle of Jack Daniel’s or a crack pipe can not only mask pain but also temporarily solve problems.

So now that I have painted myself to be a sexual deviant, how did I get… here? It’s simple. It was the love for my wife I discovered well before we were intimate. I felt her before I ever touched her. She opened closed eyes to the possibility that love and sex are independent entities that are self-reliant and self-sufficient. She taught me that the emotional bond that two people create is stronger than a physical attachment. I became acutely aware of my inadequacies but more importantly, my desire to correct them. Melissa was the alternative to the mistakes that I have been making for years. From the very beginning, I wanted this woman to never feel the damaging grief of my lack of self-control. Through these conscious efforts I begin to heal.

At no time during our marriage have I been tempted to be unfaithful to my wife. I fear not only the loss of what we have developed; I fear the deterioration of the self-respect that I developed for myself. This feat has been the result of prayer, faith and complete disclosure. I talk to God first, asking Him to help during my weakest moments. He answers by giving my wife the gift of understanding and patience. We have made a covenant, she knows my weakness and as long as I never succumb she will listen with non-judging ear. God has an amazing way of removing the guilt, shame and the desire for the things in our lives that torment us.

I have developed a disdain for pornography and I see strip clubs as useless fantasy. I check my ego when I find myself feeding into the flirtatious nature of a waitress or bartender and I speak to women as if my wife were standing next to me. The mistakes I have made in my past were due to ignorance and stupidity. I refuse to allow myself to return to a place of either one. I have not found myself in the lonely place of tear-filled remorse in years because God’s grace is sufficient and I will never surrender to the idea that I am “cured.”

As a reward for my diligence, I no longer view sex as proof of love; I see sex as an expression of love. I see it as the finishing spice or secret ingredient to an existing recipe of honesty, devotion, communication, and of course an ample helping of respect. Together they make for an amazing marriage that creates a plethora of emotions and flavors on the palate of our lives.

But what happens when the spice is interrupted…