As I participate in many social forums, the abusive nature of my marriage is often referenced. Inevitably, it seems, one question always comes up worded in one form or another . . .
What about sex?
So, yes, I'm going to go there. I'm going to answer the question, while keeping it as G-rated as possible.
Still, if you feel this will be too much information for you, you're welcome to sit this one out.
Last chance . . .
OK, for those of you still here . . .
Let me begin by saying that I can only speak from my experience. It is my understanding that the sexual aspect of my marriage was quite different from that of many abusive relationships. I do not know. I have never researched this topic . . .
Our sex life was great.
The man criticized everything I did . . . daily . . .
His needs were always more important than mine . . .
Always . . .
Except in the bedroom . . . OK, sex wasn't always inside the bedroom, but I digress . . .
In the bedroom, apparently I could do something right . . .
In the bedroom, my needs were important to him . . .
Though I acknowledge that in making it all about me, it was probably still all about his ego . . .
Still, our sex life was pretty damn good . . . physically . . .
Though I was encouraged to pursue new things, I was never forced to do anything I didn't want to.
There was quite a bit of adventure, and quite a lot of fun . . .
Yet it became largely unfulfilling . . .
As, for me, sex is largely emotional.
As our relationship deteriorated, so did my emotional satisfaction with our sex life . . .
Though physically it was still very satisfying, I reached a point where I almost never initiated. I didn't care if we had sex or not, and gradually reached a point where I preferred we didn't, as the attraction had waned . . .
However, as his wife, I rarely turned him down, and to his credit, he never let me down . . . physically . . .
Still, the physical act often felt so devoid of emotional attachment and fulfillment, that it sometimes left me in tears . . .
More often that not, it just left me feeling empty . . .
And, as though my body had betrayed my heart . . .
Our sex life was great.
The man criticized everything I did . . . daily . . .
His needs were always more important than mine . . .
Always . . .
Except in the bedroom . . . OK, sex wasn't always inside the bedroom, but I digress . . .
In the bedroom, apparently I could do something right . . .
In the bedroom, my needs were important to him . . .
Though I acknowledge that in making it all about me, it was probably still all about his ego . . .
Still, our sex life was pretty damn good . . . physically . . .
Though I was encouraged to pursue new things, I was never forced to do anything I didn't want to.
There was quite a bit of adventure, and quite a lot of fun . . .
Yet it became largely unfulfilling . . .
As, for me, sex is largely emotional.
As our relationship deteriorated, so did my emotional satisfaction with our sex life . . .
Though physically it was still very satisfying, I reached a point where I almost never initiated. I didn't care if we had sex or not, and gradually reached a point where I preferred we didn't, as the attraction had waned . . .
However, as his wife, I rarely turned him down, and to his credit, he never let me down . . . physically . . .
Still, the physical act often felt so devoid of emotional attachment and fulfillment, that it sometimes left me in tears . . .
More often that not, it just left me feeling empty . . .
And, as though my body had betrayed my heart . . .
