Meh-xuality

Posted by fxckfeelings on October 4, 2012

While we’re taught by our elders that sex is the greatest way a man can express his love and admiration for a woman (and only after marriage), experience teaches us that attraction can be fairly impersonal, based less on who you are than where you are, what your hair color is, and if you say yes. It’s odd then that people struggle to accept that a lack of attraction can be equally impersonal, even in a marriage, and that there are limits to how much it can be influenced by talk, wine, and roses. The fact is that there’s much about interpersonal sexual chemistry that you and your partner will never control, so doing your best to bridge the gap is the best defense you will ever have against doubt, blame, and feelings of failure. Losing sex can hurt, but if you know it’s not your fault, it doesn’t have to ruin your relationship or your self-confidence. Sex is impersonal, but commitment isn’t.
–Dr. Lastname

My husband and I went to couples therapy a few years ago, but it left me with a lingering feeling of bitterness towards him that I had never felt before. I know I tended to ignore him when we were busy raising the kids, and I understood he felt aggrieved that things didn’t get better when the nest emptied out. So I tried hard, at the urging of our couples therapist, to make time for him and try to touch him and give him pleasure in bed. What left me bitter was the way he responded (i.e., he didn’t). No matter how hard I tried, nothing I did was enough, so I gave up. I’m not going to leave him because I like our family life, I’m looking forward to retirement, I have lots of interests, and I don’t want to complicate life with a divorce. I wouldn’t have sex with him now, however, if he begged. My goal is not to get hurt again.

Hurt feelings can make one half of a married couple withdraw from the other, which can just cause more hurt feelings, etc., etc. Structured re-engagement via therapy can sometimes stop that cycle, providing that a couple still has love and effort to give. Then again, that re-engagement effort can also reveal that love has left the building or, as in your case, is stuck in a revolving door.

For your own peace of mind, you did the right thing trying to repair your relationship, regardless of whether it led to disappointment. Unfortunately, one of the things you can’t control is your husband’s emotional and sexual response, and while therapy was supposed to bring you together, it instead gave you a reality check.

I assume that your husband’s sexual functioning is OK, but the problem is that he just can’t feel close enough, regardless of how hard you try to warm him up; he’s attached enough to stay, but too vulnerable to really connect. The only question left to ask yourself then is not what you did wrong, but whether you did your best. If you indeed gave it your all, the problem is your husband’s, not yours.

That’s not to say he’s not trying his best; sometimes, despite their best efforts, certain people can’t regain closeness, even though they once had it, because they’re inherently too needy to feel comfortable once someone has made them feel too vulnerable. If this is your husband’s problem, then you may see evidence of this pattern in his other relationships. In any case, although his unresponsiveness in treatment may feel like a slap in the face, it’s probably something he can’t help, and certainly something you can’t.

As such, you have no reason for bitterness and every reason to be proud. You can’t undo the effect that raising a family had on your marriage—that’s why Nora Ephron called it “a grenade”—but it’s clear that your marriage matters and you were willing to do whatever you could to restore it.

If you think it’s better to stick with your husband, in spite of his lingering resentment, don’t become resentful yourself; it leaves you lonely and sexually deprived, but it’s not your fault or your deserved punishment, so don’t act as if it is.

His resentment is his problem. Let him know you’re sorry he can’t move on, and you miss intimacy, but you don’t feel to blame, and you’re determined to make the best of the marriage you’ve got. And if he’d like to make more of an effort dealing with his sexual and emotional responses, he can always go to therapy himself.

STATEMENT:
“I feel lonely and somewhat rejected in my marriage, but I know I’ve done my best, my husband can’t help the way he feels, and it’s just a cross we both have to bear. I will not take responsibility for his withdrawal and will treat it as a sad part of what has otherwise been a good marriage.”

I know in some weird way that my husband loves me, but he refuses to have sex because he says I’m too fat and it turns him off. He likes sex, and I’ve found evidence he has flings on the side, but I believe him when he says he doesn’t want to leave me and I don’t think he ever will. He’s not critical of my being fat and, on some level, he accepts me, we share a lot, and we’re good friends. It’s hard, however, to be married to a guy who won’t have sex, is probably “unfaithful,” and is openly and unabashedly turned off by the way I look. My goal is to restore at least some of the sexual chemistry we used to have.

Sexual chemistry is too mysterious to assume you can shape it, especially by the shape you’re in. Some people can’t be heterosexual, some people can’t love fat, and some people never find sex interesting at all. Unfortunately, there’s just no guarantee sex will ever be what you want it to be, or stay that way if you’re lucky enough to have what you want.

The same can be said about your weight. For health reasons, of course, you should never stop trying to keep your your weight under control (to the degree that you can). For mental health reasons, the one thing never to believe is the idea that weight is totally controllable, particularly if you’ve tried reasonably hard and your weight is still off the charts. So at least neither you nor your husband seem to be punishing you with the usual “should be able to” nonsense about controlling your health, weight, sex appeal, and destiny.

I’d like to assume you’re not letting neediness blind you to the rational risks of your marriage; for instance, there’s no way of guaranteeing his flings won’t lead to an STD or, worse yet, unexpected love with a thin, probably younger woman. No one knows better than you the burden of hurt feelings and potential humiliation and loss, but if you still feel confident in your partnership after accepting those risks and burdens, you’re either out to lunch or very good at not letting a problem in sexual chemistry make you feel like a failure (which is why I’d like to assume it’s the latter).

If you manage to lose weight or find some other way to re-kindle his desire, congrats and make sure to turn your techniques into a bestseller. Otherwise, stick to the other goal you’ve evidently followed, which is to refuse to personalize his non-response or let negative feelings spoil your terrific interpersonal chemistry (even if it’s not sexual).

STATEMENT:
“I’m sexually frustrated and sad to lose a good sexual partnership but I trust my husband and value what we have to share, in spite of all that’s missing. Sometimes it hurts, but I’ve made my best choice in a tough situation.”