Hers


It's been almost a decade now.  I still remember the first time we met, I was smitten at first site.  We met at a bookstore, he noticed what I was reading and seemed surprised, which led to a discussion.

Which led to exchanging contact information.

Which led to further discussions and coffee shop visits.

Which led to a dinner invitation.

He was a reserved man, and seemed reasonably religious, I always assumed he was the "wait until marriage" kind- and I was okay with that.   Sex was an important part of the relationship, but I could respect his religious beliefs.  

At first it was rocky, he was a virgin, so I expected it.  He was shy, I'm sure because of his inexperience.  I sometimes got the feeling he only did it to please me.  

But these vanished when we started trying for a child.

There was an almost year-long period where we had sex daily, several times on my most fertile days, often with him instigating  We both studied the charts, poured over the information out there and tried the testing and everything else involved.  He was so supportive, tender, and loving the entire time, which continued beyond the pregnancy.

The sex, however, did not.  I knew many men found pregnant women unattractive, I suppose I wished that wouldn't be the case with him.   He was still wonderful and loving towards me, cared deeply about myself and our unborn child and at times got a bit overprotective, so I knew his feelings hadn't waned.

I don't think anyone dealing with a newborn can expect to have a decent sex life, it wasn't until our child was a few months old that I started to realize things hadn't returned to normal-  or that I didn't even know what normal really was.  

Months passed, and I knew something was up.  He hadn't initiated once, seemed to leap at any excuse to avoid the act.  The phone rang, he thought he heard our child's cry, remembering something he forgot to do.    It wasn't every time, but it started getting more constant.  I tried asking him about it, if something was wrong, he insisted nothing was- everything was normal.  

Sex dwindled.  Followed closely by intimacy, which I suppose was my fault.  It used to be that we'd sometimes cuddle on the couch, watching silly movies, for hours without anything happening- but I became so desperate to be wanted, to feel loved and desirable, that every bit of affection he showed me I took and tried to tease into him wanting me.  I wondered if I was imagining all the little things he did for me, all the 'I love you's.  How could he love me if he didn't want to show it?

I've seen him try to be what I want- but it's no good, I know the intentions behind it aren't pure.  He doesn't want me, not like that, he's just trying to make me happy.   It feels like pity sex, and is harder to bear than anything.  "No matter how hard it is, I will suck it up and stick it in you!".  He's never said that, but that's what it feels like when he does try.

We've tried therapy, doctors, toys, everything either of us could think of, but nothing has changed.  


He insists it isn't me, it's how he's always been, that I'm wonderful and nothing's wrong with me.  He's just as attracted to me as the first time he saw me, but that hurts more- to know that I fell in love wiht someone who never loved me the same way.  

He's a wonderful father, a loving husband, but I can't even stand sleeping in the same room as him.  I feel trapped, and don't know what to do.


His


It's been just over 9 years.  I'll never forget the day we met, I knew she was special.  She was reading a book- a mystery book that had always been my favorite and I'd never met anyone who knew.  I thought we clicked instantly, I was probably overeager in trying to set up another meeting, but I knew I had to see her again.

I got her email address first.

Soon I had her cell number, and texted her as often as I could.

I finally got up the guts to ask her out.  She accepted.

Our relationship had always been wonderful.  Sex had never been a big deal to me, which had ruined some of my previous relationships.  I was terrified that'd happen with her- but she never pressured me.  I thought she understood, and silently accepted.

After we got married I was glad to oblige sometimes, the sudden change from no pressure to wanting it was a surprise- but I'd expected that to happen on the wedding night.  I just didn't expect it to happen so often after.

Then we started trying to have a child.

I didn't want sex any more, but I wanted to father her child.  Sex has never been an expression of love to me, but a child, in some ways, was.  A living, breathing creature that was created by our love, that we would both cherish as much as we did each other.   

I never even wanted kids before I met her, but I loved this idea.

The pregnancy and childbirth seemed to distract her from sex, and I was in no position to complain about that.  I thought that maybe it would level off now- for some time I had believed people mostly only had sex to have children.  Maybe I actually was right- and now that we had a child we'd be fine until we wanted another one.  

After our little one was finally able to sleep throguh the night, didn' tneed our constant monitoring, I found out that wasn't the case.  She wanted it again, and I tried to oblige- but was realizing it felt wrong.  I was happy to make her happy, but wasn't there an easier way?   I didn't understand why she wanted this so much, and didn't know how to ask.

I started making excuses, which worked at first.  I'd do it every time I thought I could, I loved her too much to intentionally cause her pain, and I know not doing this did.  Over time it was even hard to be affectionate, because every tender kiss or touch was interpreted as me being 'in the mood'.  Rather than cause her the pain of rejection, I stopped.

At one point I tried my hardest to be what I thought she wanted, what she needed.  At first she was delighted, then over time she realized what I was doing- and it only seemed to make things worse.

We've tried therapy, doctors, toys, anything either of us could think of, but nothing changed.


It isn't her, it's just how I am.  She's the most wonderful, amazing woman in the world and it breaks my heart when she asks me what's so wrong with her that I don't want to sleep with her.   I love her with all my heart and soul, whether or not we have sex.  Is sex that much more important to her that my love means nothing?

She's a wonderful mother, I do love her wiht all my heart, but I can't stand causing her pain and see no way to do otherwise.  I feel trapped, and don't know what to do.