Putting it bluntly I always had a higher sex drive than my partner.

When we first got together lust and new exploration was top of the agenda and I know I introduced him to some new ways to be a bit daring and have fun. That initial ‘honeymoon’ period was good clean (and dirty) fun!

Roll on several years and bit by bit sexual activities of any description slowed down. I accepted things weren’t as lively as they once were but the problems really hit when we started trying to conceive. I remember the doctor telling us to ensure we were having sex two or three times a week. He did the ‘macho thing’ of making out that wouldn’t be a problem; I did the ‘I respect and love him thing’ by not mentioning two to three times a month would be lucky.

No matter what I said he stupidly and blindly actually thought that having sex once a month (any time of the month) would be enough to get me pregnant. He would be surprised each time my period appeared, I would not.

The grand finale was when we were told we both had fertility issues. He couldn’t believe there could be anything wrong with his sperm and expected a repeat test to show the initial results to be wrong. They were not. This signalled the end of any sexual intimacy.

So here I am years later, childless not by choice and celibate not by choice.

I tried to initiate sex so many times but he was never interested. Each time I felt hurt, unloved, and unattractive. I couldn’t bear a child and now I couldn’t even interest my husband in sex. I wondered, worried and questioned him (numerous times) if he was playing away. The truth is I know he never has, but it doesn’t make his rejections any easier to handle. I’ve thought of leaving so many times but know within my heart I still love him.   

Life still includes cuddles but there is not even a passionate kiss to be had. People make so many false judgements and think sex must be great fun without kids around taking up all of your time and being underfoot. Well, I have all of the time you could wish for but sex is a distant memory. It can upset me when someone who is single mentions not having had sex for several months and how I have it on a plate. I just smile and let it pass despite wanting to scream that I’ve not had sex in years. The worst is when we’re both out and a joke is made about sex with the men doing their wink-wink, nudge-nudge jokes. Looking at me and saying “it could be your lucky night”. They couldn’t get it more wrong, but again I sit, smile, and hold the truth inside.

I guess that intimacy for me is about feeling safe in his arms, protected and loved. Of course there are times when cuddles don’t feel enough, but I have to accept I’ve chosen to stay in this marriage.

I still hold a small iota of hope that one day when his childless grief lessens he’ll stop seeing sex as being connected to children and proving himself as a man. I don’t expect to relive the initial honeymoon period, but I hope one day he’ll start to realise there is more to life than just cuddles.   

Anonymous

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