In my first marriage, my husband Jonathan didn’t sleep with me AT ALL. We NEVER had sex for the entire 7 years. I was a virgin for that entire marriage. I eventually left Jon because I knew I couldn’t live like that. I needed a husband to ‘go there’ with.
When Jon and I got divorced, it was sooo incredibly painful. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone, it absolutely floored me. I thought I wouldn’t survive the feirce ache, grief, guilt (for me) and constant rushes of hurt that came with it. The hurt would come in tidal waves and I had to hang on for dear life and hope it didn’t kill me. When I was going through my divorce, I promised myself “never again”. Never again would I put myself in the situation where I could hurt this much.
I promised myself I would NEVER get married. EVER AGAIN.
I was 32.
I got re-married when I was 36. Lol.
Alun and I had sex throughout our relationship and were at it like rabbits. BLISS 🙂 THIS is what I came here for! Yes, boy – yes!!! It’s been a happy and fulfilling marriage. So far so good. Praise God.
But tonight, I’m blogging with a broken heart because we’ve not had sex for 4 months. I’m carrying around A LOT of extra weight and oh my God I look AWFUL. So I get it, I do. I look fat and fugly. I get it, Alun. I understand.
But what breaks me is that we didn’t address this sooner and if I hadn’t said anything about it last night (hysterical yelling), would I be 7 years down the same track with this husband? Would I?
I don’t want this. I don’t want a husband who’ll only have sex with me when I’m attractive. I know I’m being unfair about it but I don’t care. I’m overweight from anti-depressants so it’s something I find really hard to be in control of when the medication makes me ravenous for fried/fatty foods.
I can either be fat and ‘normal’ or much thinner and out of my freaking mind.
I chose to be as normal as possible…so I’m taking my daily meds and I’m fat.
Alun has called twice from work today and he’s been greeted by a very unhappy wife with each call. I usually (I have done this for almost 10 years now) greet Alun on the phone with an exuberant “Hey good looking!!!”. Tonight, I’ve just say “Hey”. I can’t seem to get any other words past the lump in my throat.
You’re not having sex with me because you think I’m fat and ugly, Alun.
That is killing me. I don’t know what to do with that. I honestly don’t know how to cope with it. It hurts so much!!!
It’s killing me 1000 times more than it normally would because I’ve already been here. I’ve been in this dark hole of SHAME before and I promised myself NEVER AGAIN.
I am ashamed. I hate how I look. I hate that I have an apron of fat that hangs over my vagina so I haven’t even seen how she looks. I hate that it’s hard to shave there or keep her in order because I can’t see what I’m fucking doing down there!!! SO I’m not only fat and ugly- I have a hairy bush that is out of control, too. GREAT.
I know I shouldn’t be mad at Alun. I would probably struggle to have sex with him if he gained 30kgs, too. I do believe I’d at least talk to him about it, though. I believe wholeheartedly if Alun approached the topic, I’d talk openly and honestly with him about it. When I approached it (okay yes, I was a screaming psycho because it had been so long), Alun just wanted to shut me up. He didn’t want to talk about it.
The thing is, it’s the 2nd time this has happened to me. I’M the common denominator here. I’M the problem. I’m the one doing it wrong.
Alun doesn’t want to work on this, he doesn’t want to talk about why we’re not having sex any more. JUST LIKE JON DID YEARS AGO, Alun too wants to sweep this under the rug and just move on like it’s not a huge gaping hole in our marriage.
It’s happening again. This is terrifying for me. I’m hurting so badly I can feel it in the marrow of my bones. This hurts sooo much!!! I’m so ashamed and embarrassed to be who I am!!!
Do I allow it? Do I just accept it? Do I take on board this deep, heavy, hurtful rejection and do I start counting calories and dieting to lose weight so Alun will like me again? I don’t know…something seems really wrong about that.
Or do I get divorced again for the 2nd fucking time in my life?
Can I survive those tidal waves of grief a second time?
What do I do?
For the time being, I’ve cried about it. I’ve been at home all day today watching crime. I’ve avoided the stories where spouses have killed each other. I’ve tidied a little bit in the house and I’ve changed the bedding in our bedroom. I changed it fully intending to move out and leave Alun with fresh bedding in his room when he gets home tonight.
I will move into the spare room and make that as girly as possible so I’m comfortable. I didn’t get around to sorting the spare room out today, though. I’ve been fighting the flu all week and don’t have the energy for two rooms. I can’t seem to muster the energy to make the spare bed up…I’m so tired. I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. Lucky for me, it’s a very comfy sofa.
I’m emotionally drained, physically unwell with this damn flu and heart sick.
I don’t think I have the strength – literally – to go through this bollocks again.
I just can’t.