In the last few months I've been working on some things in the "wife skills" area. You see, Lew (husband) stopped ... um ... initiating sex. Just completely stopped asking for it. It was as if he wasn't interested. At. All.
?????
I didn't know what to do. So I talked to my mentor (my Titus 2 lady). Not just one talk, but many, Many, MANY talks. We discovered a disturbing pattern. About me, not him.
Here's how the pattern goes:
1. Lew(husband) gets all lovey dovey and asks me for sex. I tell him I can't right now, but I will later. Later, I get interested in something else and forget all about my amorous husband, who is waiting for me. Upstairs. Naked. Asleep by now.
2. Husband asks for something specific. It isn't really a surprise (he's been wanting something different for a long, Long, LONG time). I argue with him and myself about it, when it really isn't unbiblical. I'm just (a.) embarrassed at the prospect of letting myself go that far, (b.) afraid of becoming the kind of woman who does "that," and (c.) not sure how to do it right. I put him off and put him off and put him off until the requests stop coming.
3. I have gained a few pounds (haven't we all?) and I don't feel as sexy as I once did. I won't let him see me naked. Ever. I get dressed and undressed under my bathrobe or behind a screen. When we make love I make him turn off the light even though he delights in the sight of my body (why, I'll never know).
4. When we are in the throes of passion, he tries to go "down there." It's something he's done before, and it always puts me over the edge. But I think to myself, 1. Am I clean? 2. Am I supposed to just lie here and enjoy this? How awkward. 3. What kind of a disgusting person does this kind of thing, anyway?
The fact is, if I had "let myself go" and been a wife to him (a truly Biblical, Song of Solomon wife) instead of a frigid, frightened little priss, he might think differently of me. He might have actually thought I wanted him. He might have felt that I loved him. He might have thought I actually enjoyed being intimate with him.
Instead, sex was get in, roll this, stroke that, get in, I finish, he finishes, DONE. Almost exactly the same way, every. single. time.
Meanwhile, he's walking around like a zombie, needing sexual release, and I am unavailable to do for him the little, quick things that, although they aren't full intercourse, would make him feel loved and wanted.
Why? Why would I deny him the one thing he can't get anywhere else?
Control. I always had to be in control of myself and everything around me, including my body and my husband's body. I would let him do the predictable things that would bring about the predictable sexual result, but I would always bring the hammer down if he tried to cross the line, because I couldn't control the outcome.
It wasn't that I didn't love him, it was just that I only wanted to know him in certain ways, and NOT in other ways. Oddly enough, he (being the male = males are noted for being less open, not as free to express themselves = what a crock) wanted to know me every possible way, and wanted me to know him likewise. Just like God wanted.
Sooo ... he stopped asking for sex. Don't get me wrong - when I initiate, he is more than willing to accommodate me ... anywhere, any time, any way. But he doesn't initiate. Ever.
Totally. My. Fault.
