Posts Tagged ‘Sex’

Apr 2012

Wait, I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. When I say chore, I don’t mean the boring/repetitive/bucket-and-rubber-gloves variety (though to be fair, it depends who you’re with). What I mean is, sex can be scheduled. Monday: Grocery shopping. Wednesday: Laundry. Friday: Slap and tickle. This and other revelations came to me via a one-day group Marriage Success Training seminar, run by Patty and Greg Kuhlman.

How did we come to spend a Saturday at this event? When I start something new, I like to read books and do homework first, so I was game for premarital counseling. Plus, Meg recommends it in her book as part of the "Questions to Ask Before You Get Married" section. Done and done. Brandon, on the other hand, felt more like counseling was something you resort to if things go wrong. But he was open-minded enough to give it a try.

We scouted round the Internet looking for something non-denominational that might suit us. I’d heard of the very religious analyzing vaginal mucus during marriage prep, in order to perfect the rhythm method. We were definitely looking for something non-mucus-based. In this respect, MST, which talks a lot about “science” and “the latest research,” looked pretty good. We signed up.

In retrospect, that was the easy part. As the day approached, we were increasingly anxious about what might be involved. I’d read the part in Blink about the psychologist who can spot a successful marriage based on a few hours of observation. What if the seminar was just like that, revealing the Questions that we Should Have Asked before rushing off to City Hall in December? Would a red warning light start flashing when we entered the room to warn us of impending marital failure? In front of all the other couples? Continue reading Madeline: Sex Can Be a Chore

Posted in: Planning: Journeys, Reclaiming Wife | 81 Comments »

Feb 2012

Reclaiming Wife: Sometimes Women Want it More

We always do a lot of thinking before we run gender specific posts on APW, so I did a lot of pondering on this post. Was it ok to run a post about what happens when women want sex more then their male partners and they are shamed by cultural narratives? Not everyone who reads APW is in a male/ female partnership, so I was on the fence about it. But after a lot of thought, I decided that it's important to discuss gendered cultural narratives and take their power away. (And yes, we're totally waiting for a post on LGBTQ focused sex issues, if you've got one.) But today's post, which is written by Christy, takes some of the wind out of the sails of the idea that women just don't like getting laid, or that good married sex has to look like the cultural norm. Let's discuss.

I grew up in a conservative household. By this I mean that we went to church almost every Sunday and Did Not Talk About Sex. Ever. That was left up to the California public school system and misguided, hormone-fueled girls' locker room talk. In fact, the time my mother came home and caught my senior-year boyfriend and I making out furiously on the couch when no one was home (absolutely NO boys were allowed in the house without a parent present!) she stammered an apology and quickly retreated out the front door. Sex had a strictly don't ask, don't tell policy in our house, so I rebelled by becoming the most sex-positive virgin around.

Growing up I strongly identified with the feminist movement, so as a post-third wave Christian feminist, I devoured Our Bodies, Ourselves and The Guide to Getting it On like manna from heaven. I knew more about sex and how a woman's body worked than any of my friends who were actually having sex; as a Sociology major I made it my study and my (ahem) passion. Back then, sexuality was a tool for me—a way to feel in control rather than a means of experiencing pleasure. I was waiting to do it, so sex was off the table, but that didn't mean I couldn't be sexy. And that's what brings all the boys to the yard, isn't it? Didn't I learn from age seven that all it took for wholesome Betty to steal Archie away from that rich witch Veronica was for her to don a skimpier bikini? Sexy was where it was at, so when I met a man that not only thought I was sexy but made me feel like being sexual, I thought we had it made. We were a white dress, shared vows, and a fabulous party away from the wedding night of my dreams. And it all went off without a hitch, better than I ever imagined, fireworks even. But that's only the beginning of my story.

Before I got married some lovely friends held an intimate shower (read: sex shower) for me during which they showered me with sexy lingerie and advice on how to enjoy my upcoming role as a sexually active wife. My friends, God love them, gave me the sex advice they wished they'd gotten before their wedding day. Some was immensely practical (my nurse friend gave me the little gem to always try to pee after intercourse to avoid a UTI), but a lot of it centered around how to make time for your husband when you were, shall we say, less than in the mood. It was great advice, and as I've thrown my share of intimate showers over the years, I know it has come in handy for many a bride-to-be. The only problem was that all this advice, along with many other contributing factors, helped set an expectation in my mind that I was going to be fighting off my husband with a stick. I mean, it makes sense, right? Take two people who are saving themselves for marriage, add one engagement ring, sprinkle with a healthy dose of mutual attraction and bake for fourteen months until you have a bangin' sex life, just waiting for that "I do" to pop my hot oven door open. But that's not how it happened. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: Sometimes Women Want it More

Posted in: Gender & Feminism, Reclaiming Wife | 134 Comments »

Oct 2011

Reclaiming Wife: Painful Sex & Women’s Health

Months ago, when we put out a call for posts discussing sex (You know, sex! An important part of relationships and marriages!) we were overwhelmed by a flurry of posts about painful sex and difficult sex lives. It turns out that those of you with happy, easy sex lives didn't have much you wanted to write about, and those of you going through difficult periods (which happens to most all of us at some point) deeply craved connection and discussion. We picked this post because of its very clear message: sex should not hurt. If it does, seek help. If the professionals you talk to tell you nothing can be done, get a second (and third, and fourth) opinion, till you find someone that will work with you. And in the meantime, hold each others' hands, and know you're not alone... and you're very definitely not broken.

My husband and I had sex on our wedding night.

I hear this is actually pretty standard. But for my partner and I, this was a triumph. Instead of slipping into the haze of post-coital pleasure on our wedding night, I leapt out of bed and broke out my victory dance, complete with butt-wiggle and fist-jabbing, exclaiming, “We did it!”

I suppose I should back this story up a bit. For over eight years, I suffered from an undiagnosed pelvic floor disorder called dyspareunia. In the beginning, sex was uncomfortable, but my partner and I managed the pain by using specific positions. We came up with all sorts of creative explanations and excuses. But as the years passed, the pain worsened. Finally, intercourse became impossibly painful and even oral sex became uncomfortable. Worst of all, I had no idea what was going on with my body.

When I finally worked up the courage to tell my doctor that sex was painful, my gynecologist explained that nothing appeared to be wrong with me. She could find no physical explanation for my pain. She sent me home with the advice that we should use more lubrication, and I should try to relax with a glass of wine at dinner. None of my friends or family members ever talked about sex being painful. So with no explanations forthcoming, I drew an illogical but deeply shameful conclusion: I was messed up.

I felt like a failure. I felt like I was selfishly denying my partner. I felt unfeminine and worried about how we’d ever get pregnant. Any sort of physical intimacy was fraught with stress. I pulled away from backrubs and kisses, worried they would lead to greater intimacy. I coped with these devastating feelings by trying to ignore the problem.

But as it turns out, sex is really important for relationships. I could feel close to my partner through cuddles on the couch and long talks, but my fiancé felt increasingly cut-off and rejected. We tried to talk about the problem and find work-arounds, but often these conversations ended in tears, and I would walk around with oppressive feelings of shame, guilt, and anger bubbling in my gut.

Last summer my partner finally sat me down to talk about these problems. “Things aren’t OK,” he softly explained, “and they don’t seem to be getting any better.” As a result, we bought a few books on pelvic pain. I devoured these books! I read revolutionary ideas like, “Sex doesn’t have to hurt!”[1] Empowered with new terminology and facts, I finally went back to my gynecologist and asked to be sent to a pelvic pain specialist. Though this specialist was able to diagnosis me, she unfortunately sent me home with misinformation. I now know this is much too common—many doctors know very little about helping women with pelvic pain. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: Painful Sex & Women’s Health

Posted in: Gender & Feminism, Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 93 Comments »

Sep 2011

Reclaiming Wife: A Year Of Bad Sex

Today we have another post from a fiercely independent APW reader who waited to have sex till marriage. If you haven't read the past two APW pieces on this subject, you should catch up now. It's been fascinating for me, watching the conversation unfold on APW in a way that is rarely part of the cultural dialogue. Today's piece is about battling through a year of bad sex, and I think it's relevant to all of us, no matter what our struggles are. Marriage is complicated, and sooner or later we'll find ourselves facing a problem so complicated and intrenched that we have to find a way to save ourselves and each other. And that's what today's post is about, at its core.

We were virgins when we married at 25 and 27. We looked forward to our wedding night, talking about the magic, and reading (yes,of course, reading—because that’s how we approach most of our lives) in preparation. I had a bit of penal fear, a bit of religious confusion, and some raging hormones. I talked through it with a counselor and was told not to expect a Hollywood moment. I asked exactly how much semen would squirt out and what exactly happened to it afterwards. You know, the essentials. I went into the bridal chamber expecting that it would be short, painful, and yet special. And it was.

What I wasn’t expecting was that it would continue to be short, unfulfilling and all together frustrating. I asked my counselor what I was doing wrong. Her answer was “expecting too much too soon.” I asked friends and got answers ranging from “Couples reach the height of sexual satisfaction six months into their sexual relationship” to “See, I told you that you should have figured out if you were sexually compatible first!” There was no rushing it if it was the former and there was seemingly no solution for the latter. Because it was short and unfulfilling to me, my husband retreated. Our first month of marriage boasted a half dozen sexual encounters. I felt like a failure as a wife and a woman.

What I didn’t know was that my husband was struggling with premature ejaculation. A month into our marriage, he paid a visit to a doctor, picked up a prescription, and the length of our encounters dramatically increased. It was still awkward though, and we found ourselves on a once-a-week schedule in plain old missionary. I was bored and I didn’t know what to do.

Then my mother-in-law suffered a severe medical emergency and was in the ICU for weeks on end. I hoped to heaven that our first year would indeed prove to be the hardest. Needless to say, a depressed, apprehensive husband was not in the mood for over a month. Again, I felt like a failure.

Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: A Year Of Bad Sex

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 113 Comments »

Jul 2011

Reclaiming Wife: First Time Wedding Night Sex

Perhaps one of my favorite things about APW is taking people's stereotypes about feminism and blasting them wide open. I think it makes all of us smarter. Today's post is the second post we've run on APW about smart, sassy, feminist ladies who decided to save sex for marriage (take that, stereotypes!). Last year, Liz wrote about why and how she saved sex till her wedding night. Today a long time Team Practical member (who is anonymous for this post), talks about what she learned when first time sex was painful and hard (hints: sex isn't limited to intercourse and communication helps). I think this is required reading for everyone, waiting or not.

My husband and I both grew up in the kind of conservative communities that tout waiting until marriage to have sex as, if not the actual norm, at least the idealized one. The language that we heard about waiting went something like, "If you wait, your reward will be rainbows and unicorns on your wedding night! Sex will be instantly effortless, easy, and movie-like, complete with simultaneous orgasms for everyone!" (Okay, maybe I'm being a little facetious. But just a little.)

So basically if you've ever had sex and you're reading this, you're laughing, right? Well, my poor husband and I, even though we were pretty sure the bit about immediate simultaneous orgasms wasn't true, didn't really know what to expect when it came to first-time sex. (Oh yes, we waited. We had our reasons. And no, they did not include thinking that premarital sex sends you straight to hell.) The first few weeks of our marriage consisted of sore muscles, achy backs, lots of painful attempts at intercourse, one very terrified wife (me), and one increasingly frustrated husband (him). What was worse was that we found ourselves constantly fighting about sex. About whether or not we ought to go slower or faster; about feeling pressured; about feeling like we'd failed. I spent quite a few evenings locked in our bathroom during those weeks, crying my eyes out, bitterly thinking that everyone who'd told me "It's worth the wait" was dead wrong.

Thankfully, it got better. We confided in some married mentors. We kept hashing through the difficult fights. We slowed down and drank a lot of wine and gradually discovered, together, how to approach this new kind of intimacy. And we learned a lot in the process.

At the end of the day, I'm glad we waited, but I do wish we'd been better equipped for that "wedding night" experience. While I certainly don't hope or expect that every virgin will have the same difficulties we had (in fact, I wish you all very smooth sailing as you enter the waters of sexuality, married or otherwise), here are some things that helped us, in the hope that they might help others in a similar situation. (Basically, if wedding grad posts are what you'd like to tell your engaged self, these are the things I wish I could zip back and tell my virgin self):

Don't freak out. Since wedding nights don't get talked about much and people tend to just waggle their eyebrows at you and make knowing remarks about the honeymoon, it can be really easy to feel like you're the only couple in the world having trouble getting their married sex life off to a fabulous start. Definitely don't buy into that kind of thinking. (If anything, remind yourself of this post and the fact that there is at least one other couple that you know of who had trouble!)

Communicate. The longer I'm married, the more I am convinced that good communication is key not only to good first-time sex, but to good sex, period. While my husband and I had told each other, leading up to the wedding, that we weren't going to put any pressure on the wedding night itself, we certainly each still had some unspoken expectations and tightly-held dreams about first time sex, whenever that was going to happen. Looking back, it would have been great if we'd known to have a conversation beforehand about how our ideal selves would react if sex didn't go well initially. Other questions that I think are useful include: Do you hope that we'll have sex on the wedding night itself? Do you want to have intercourse the first time we try? How would you feel if we gradually led up to intercourse over the first few days of the honeymoon? How do you define a successful lovemaking session? Would you feel disappointed if we have trouble producing orgasms right away? What would you do if sex hurts/what would you want from your partner if sex hurts?

Remember that you are a team. I think the temptation when sex isn't going well is to feel like a martyr and to blame your partner for not being understanding, caring, slow, patient, insert-word-of-choice enough. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: First Time Wedding Night Sex

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife | 149 Comments »

Jul 2011

A Response To Dan Savage: Non-Monogamy & Marriage

Many of you (those who share my obsession with The New York Times) may have read with great interest Mark Oppenheimer's cover story in The New York Times Magazine this weekend, "Infidelity Keeps Us Together." The piece was largely a conversation with APW favorite Dan Savage, discussing the ways that we perhaps over-value monogamy in our cultural conversation about marriage.

While you should go read the piece in full, and I'll quote my favorite excerpts for you here, I was mostly hit by why I love Dan Savage's work so much. Savage and I are peas in a pod (which makes sense, since I've been reading him since college) when it comes to philosophy. We share an ostensibly non-traditional outlook on cultural institutions, but we're both fundamentally pretty conservative in our core values. I don't believe in made-up wedding traditions, but I also don't believe that it's your wedding and you can do whatever you want. And just as I don't really think that anything goes at a wedding (because we shouldn't hurt people), I don't believe that anything goes in a marriage. Why? Because I believe in social obligations and the ties that bind. Mutual respect, dedication, and working through the hard parts are part of what makes good marriages tick (though I fundamentally believe that there are times when we can and should leave a marriage). So, like Savage, I think that making a marriage work is usually more important than an occasional intentional, or unintentional, non-monogamous incident. But let's read a bit from the article, shall we?

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But Savage says a more flexible attitude within marriage may be just what the straight community needs. Treating monogamy, rather than honesty or joy or humor, as the main indicator of a successful marriage gives people unrealistic expectations of themselves and their partners. And that, Savage says, destroys more families than it saves.

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“Folks on the verge of making those monogamous commitments,” Savage told me in one of our many e-mail exchanges, “need to look at the wreckage around them — all those failed monogamous relationships out there (Schwarzenegger, Clinton, Vitter, whoever’s on the cover of US magazine this week) — and have a conversation about what it’ll mean if one or the other partner should cheat. And agree, at the very least, to getting through it, to place a higher value on the relationship itself than on one component of it, sexual exclusivity.” Continue reading A Response To Dan Savage: Non-Monogamy & Marriage

Posted in: Marriage, Meg's Thoughts, Personal Thoughts, Reclaiming Wife | 223 Comments »

Posts Tagged ‘Sex’

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