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. I hate sex if I’m not in the mood. 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 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.”
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.