The Halcyon Days of Childhood-Part II

I know I've given you an incomplete view of my childhood, but I think I've given you enough for you to be able to guess what it was like.  What I haven't talked about is the attitude towards sex in my house.

My mother, strangely, was never too closed about sex.  She did give me the talk, and let me know that I could come to her with any questions.  

My Nannie, on the other hand, swore that she only had sex once (when she conceived my Mom).  Sex to my Nannie was a nasty, dirty, degrading thing that she was forced to do because she was married.  There were a lot of conversations in our house about how boys only want one thing, to stick their wee willy winkie (her words, not mine) wherever us girls would let them.  My Nannie was very vocal about this.  I learned from a young age that sex itself was meant to be a "using" experience for girls.  

I was also made to feel shameful about my body.  The body shame was many faceted.  There was the usual body shame that comes along in a sexually repressed home.  There was also the body shame that comes along with being a chubby kid in a house of anorexics.  Yeah.  Did I forget to mention that?  Both my Mom and my Nannie were anorexic while I was growing up.  My Nannie was a much milder case than my Mom.  My mother's top weight when I was a child was 108 lbs at 5'5" with a large frame.  To put this another way, my mother's BMI was between 16.6 and 18.  I recently found a picture of my Mom at the beach with me when I was a baby.  Even with her "baby weight" you could still see all of her ribs and the bones in her chest.  My husband said she looked like a concentration camp victim.

Enter chubby kid with endocrine problems.  I'm sure you can guess what happens next.  Yup.  I spent a big portion of my life on enforced diets.  I endured searches of my bedroom looking for errant food wrappers, snide remarks about my belly, pinches of my belly fat followed by looks of disgust, and excessively glowing praise whenever I managed to lose a few pounds.  It's amazing that I never developed an eating disorder.

In all honesty, it's just amazing that I came out of this as well as I did.  Generally, I'm a relatively content person.  I have a lot of friends and a wonderful husband.  I'm very very lucky.

But, there are a few holdovers.  I'd never thought that I had absorbed my Nannie's weird attitude about sex.  That is…until I suddenly lost my libido.  Consciously, I know that sex is a wonderful, super fun, and intimate thing.  And as long as I'm horny, that's exactly how I feel.  But, as soon as you take the drive away, I start to think of sex as something kinda gross.  If I'm thinking of it as something kinda gross, and my hubby starts "pressuring" me for sex, I start to hear my Nannie's voice in my head and suddenly I feel degraded and used.  It sucks.

And then there's the body issues.  Half of feeling horny is feeling sexy.  If you never feel sexy that can put a serious crimp in your libido.  Now, don't misunderstand me.  I am perfectly comfortable being naked in front of my husband.  I know that HE thinks I'm sexy.  He's been very convincing about that.  The problem is me. 

People often fantasize about being WITH someone else.  I fantasize about BEING someone else.

Ahhh, the damage your family can do.

Throw on top of this some molestation and an attempted assault at 14 and you are left with someone who is sometimes kinda messed up about sex.  Generally, I've managed to avoid a lot of the bizarre thinking about sex that I was raised with, but it rears its ugly head when my libido is gone.  I'm working on that though.

Next time, I'd like to talk to you about the things I've done/been doing to help myself.

The Halcyon Days of Childhood

I've spent a bit of time now talking to you about the physical part of my low libido.  Some of the psychological portions are already dealt with in these pages incidentally.  I'd like to address those more completely.  Specifically, I'd like to talk to you about what someone with emotional issues with sex can do to help themselves.  Now, keep in mind, I'm no expert.  I'm just a woman searching for her own answers.  I've recognized that while my problems is partially physical, there are psychological components as well.  I'm working on those also.  Before I launch into my thoughts about emotional self-care and libido, I need to give you some background.

I've touched a bit on my childhood in these pages.  I'm sure you can guess that my childhood was one of abuse and neglect.  To any outside observer, we might have looked okay, but inside the circle things were very different.  My father took off when I was about 2.  He'd had an affair and my mom threw him out.  He married the woman he was fucking around with (she became my step mom and I love her dearly).  After a few years, my mother could no longer support herself and we had to move in with her parents.

I love my grandparents.  I grew especially close to my Nannie.  She took over the mothering role because my mother was working in the city.  I loved my Pa too, but he was more of a grandparent for me.  Most of my memories of him were of fishing, and long walks, and playing cards.  I don't remember him being involved in any of the real parenting.

I mentioned that I thought that both my Mom and my Nannie have personality disorders.  More precisely, I believe my mother to have borderline personality disorder and my Nannie to have narcissistic personality disorder (with maybe a little bpd thrown in).  My mother's relationship with her mother is one of nightmares.  She often received the belt (or a chair, or anything that was within my Nannies'  reach).  My nannie put her down all the time.  There was even an incident when my Mom woke up to find my Nannie standing over her bed with a knife.  This is really my mother's story, so I won't delve into it much more.  Let's just leave it at this;  any deviation from my Nannie's rigid plans/dreams meant that my Mom was a horror in my Nannie's eyes.  My Nannie was always more concerned about how her family appeared to others than about how the people in it were doing.

By the time I came along, my Nannie had mellowed a bit.  She also saw me as an opportunity to get things right, and to get back at my Mom.  My rearing became a power struggle between the two of them.  So, my Nannie was much nicer to me than she ever was to my Mom.  Of course, this was much better for me…in theory.  In reality, it completely ruined the small chance of a healthy relationship with my own mother.

My mother never really saw me as her daughter.  She was jealous that I got along so well with her mother.  She was angry that I was being used as a tool against her.  In short, I'm pretty sure she began to hate me.  I think, subconsciously, she wanted to put me in my place.  She saw me in the most negative light possible.  If I was tired, I was lazy.  If I was sick, I was a hypochondriac.  If I was sad, I was a cry baby. 

This led to a lot of neglect, especially where my health was concerned.  I told you in my last entry about my health history.  There is not a single illness that I was diagnosed with that was not neglected for a period of time before diagnosis.  If I wasn't running a fever, I wasn't sick.  And she made sure to tell every doctor she ever took me to that I was a hypochondriac, "What kid has stomachaches everyday?".  A child with Celiac Disease, you nasty bitch.  (Pardon me, it slips out sometimes.)

I think you can guess what my childhood might have been like.  So, I'm going to leave the description there for the day.  In my next post, I'm going to talk about the psychological issues that I developed in this environment.

Peeing in a jug

An update.  So…I mentioned in a previous entry that my doctor was checking my hormones to see if they were affecting my sex drive and my health in general.  I'm going to tell you what we found.

I wasn't going to go into my health issues on this blog.  I have another blog for that.  But, I realize now that this blog wouldn't be complete without telling you about the health problems I'm facing.  They play a big part in my lack of libido.

I'm going to keep this brief.  I don't remember a time when I was ever "normal".  I began going through puberty at 5.  Yes, you read that right…5.  I was sent to a growth clinic to figure out why and they found nothing.  At 12 I started having some issues that indicated a more serious problem.  I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) 2 years later.  At 19, I was diagnosed with autoimmune hypothyroidism and have been taking Synthroid since.  At 29, I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease and am on a gluten free diet.  In January of this year, I was diagnosed with High Blood Pressure and Diabetes.  This was especially shocking to me because I have a very healthy diet.

I have symptoms that are not explained by any of the above illnesses.  They all descended on me about the time that my libido punked out.  These are the symptoms that sent me back to the doctor recently.  After years of being told that my symptoms must be falling under the umbrella of something I already have, I've finally found a doctor that sees that something else is wrong.  She's run a bunch of tests.

These test results were both good and bad.  She has ruled out some illnesses that were possibilities…Lupus being one.  She's discovered that I don't have the normal PCOS hormone profile.  She's happy with where my blood sugar is…through massive diet changes I'm no longer in the diabetic range.  But, the most important thing she's found is that my cortisol is really elevated.  I now have to go through many more tests starting with a 24 hour urinary cortisol (I get to pee in a jug).  We need to figure out why my cortisol is so high, especially in the evening and at night.  Ultrasounds, CT scans and MRI's are in my future.

Essentially, there's a strong possibility that I have a tumor in my adrenals or Pituitary.  There's a strong possibility that I have something known as Cushing's Disease or Syndrome.

Well, this explains why I've been so unwell.  Even if I don't have a tumor, my cortisol is way too high.  The body doesn't repair properly when cortisol is as high as mine is.  It also explains why my libido is just gone.  I used to be so horny.  I swear.  And lastly, it also explains why I crossed the line into Diabetes despite a very good diet.

So, that's where I am.  I've been feeling overwhelmed and am tired from all of the running around to the doctor.  I know I haven't been posting as regularly as I was, I've just been so exhausted.

I really hadn't planned on sharing this info with you all.  But, I realized that to have a blog dealing with low libido and saving a marriage, I needed to include anything that was relevant or it would be dishonest.

Being that I'm so run down these days, I'm going to open up the mic to my readers.  If you'd like to share anything that relates to this blog, about dominance/submission, low libido, marital repair…anything, feel free to write me at my email address in my profile.  I'll post most of these messages anonymously in my blog (unless you ask me not to, of course).  Or, of course, you can always just leave a comment.

With so many readers, I'm sure someone has something to say...

A kid in a candy store

I've been doing a lot of reading.  And we've been doing a tiny bit of playing.  Exploring all of this stuff is really a bit like wandering around in a candy store.  You try (or, in reality, think about trying) various bits and pieces of candy and some you like, and some you don't.  I'm learning as much about myself from the things I don't like, as from the things I do.  It's hard to sort it all out.

I really do like the power aspect of all of this.  I suspect that there are lots of reasons for that.  I know that I really like it when Scott acts manly and assertive.  That really gets my motor running.  I also like the inherent expiation for my own desire.  That's one I've always known was interesting, even if I wasn't aware of it.  My fantasies have always gone a bit in the "bodice ripper" direction.  The feelings of powerlessness are a turn-on for me.  It may sound strange, but the more assertive and powerful he gets, the more feminine and sexual I feel.

I've realize that, at heart, I will always be virginal.  I love sex.  I think I'm good at it.  But, I'm good at it precisely because of my innocent, but curious attitudes about it.  I really do think of sex as something incredibly emotionally intimate, not all people do.  When I have sex, all of my walls come down.  I have such an endorphin rush during sex that I actually break into laughter after orgasm.  I don't mean embarrassed giggles, either.  I mean throaty, body shaking, intense laughing.  I just feel so…free.

I've also been known to cry after orgasm in times if horrible stress.  My ego truly just disappears.  I become in touch with myself in ways that I cannot be in regular life.  I was raised to be stoic, and to take whatever abuse other people had to offer.  I was never allowed to show emotions at either end of the extreme.  If I did, I was either being ridiculous or an overly sensitive cry-baby.  The result being that it's perfectly okay for me, as an adult, to cry for someone else, or to be ecstatically happy for them, but not for myself.  All of that goes away when I cum.  I just am.  Whatever is…is.  And whatever is…just comes out.

I think that's part of the reason that I really like it when Scott's forceful.  It's not about taking responsibility away from me, it's more about giving me permission to feel.  And, of course, it's hot…

There are some things about playing with power that I don't like.  I don't like to feel like a vessel.  I ultimately want the exerted power to be about both of us and our dynamic.  I absolutely hate it when I feel (or imagine feeling) like I'm the method for getting off, as opposed to the reason.  For instance, I have no problem with Scott being super turned on by me, or just generally being horny, and demanding a hand or blow job.  In fact, that turns me on.  But, I really wouldn't like it if he got turned on by porn and did the same.  I have no problem with porn.  In fact, in the first scenario, I'd be perfectly comfortable with him turning on porn while I was going down on him.  I don't like to feel like I'm just a receptacle.  I suppose this means that while I'm a bit submissive, I'm not slave material.  To me, that feels humiliating and...

I really don't like humiliation.  I don't like to be embarrassed for someone else's pleasure.  I was humiliated enough as a child, thank you very much.  Feeling humiliated is enough to snap me right out of the place of abandon I go to.  The minute I feel humiliated, I stop being aroused and want to get away.  It truly is more than a turn off.  It's an intimacy ender for me.

Surrendering control is a nurturing thing for me.  I want to take care of my husband.  I want him to blossom into the sexually assertive man that I know he is.  I want to help him to feel powerful and virile.  Everything I do (or allow him to do) comes  out of love and reciprocity.  In return, I want to feel cared for and lusted after.  I want him to push my boundaries and help me to explore my own desires and internal make-up.  I don't ever want to feel like my gifts are incidental, like any warm body could take my place.  

Until I started exploring all of this stuff, I had no idea just how many non-sexual things from my childhood had a bearing on how I approach sex.  I've realized that I like to feel physically powerless, to surrender control, and to some degree, to serve, but I in no way like to feel emotionally powerless.  That brings me back too closely to the helpless child I used to be. 

I'm learning so much.  My blog title becomes more true everyday.  

Move it along, folks. There's nothing to see here...

I wrote last time about the sudden plunge of my sex drive.  Thankfully, that was over about 3 days later.  At least now I know it's not psychological (which I was starting to fear after the massive boost to my libido over the last month or so).  However, the boy has been super stressed and not very interested.  How's that for a change of pace?  We did have one middle of the night quickie, but other than that, it's been a quiet week.

The best thing about this week?  We've been talking.  No, not boring, droning, stupefying, marriage conversations.  Hot, heavy, erotic, sex conversations.  We've always had trouble with that before.  He doesn't like talking about sex in an abstract way and that's the only way I can talk about it.  At heart, we're both kind of Victorian.  

It all started with our first "yellow card" encounter.  He took advantage of me in the kitchen and during the festivities, he really smacked my bum.  He's done that a bit over the course of our relationship, but he was really into it this time.  It made me start thinking (oh no, not again).

I've told you that I feel that I've been emasculating him in some of our daily interactions.  It's such a part of our culture (and my upbringing), that I'm not usually aware that I'm doing it until afterward, if at all.  I don't want to be a part of taking his power away.  I want him to be happy, whole, and godly in his manhood.  I don't want to ever make him feel like less of a man.

I know that I can't take anything from him that he doesn't allow me to.  But, I also know that he's been conditioned to think certain things about himself and the world.  He was told repeatedly that he was a screw up, a miscreant, a bad seed.  It's really easy for me to unintentionally reinforce that.  So, while I know that I can't take away his power if he doesn't let me, I also know that he doesn't have the tools to block the messages he's heard his entire life.  When I make him feel like he did when he was a child or a teen, I send him right back to that place of powerlessness.  And that's the last thing I want to do.  I'd much rather help him rebuild himself than take part in pulling him down.  I love him.

You're wondering what this has to do with our tryst?  It's simple.  I started thinking about this stuff and, after our afternoon delight, a light bulb went on in my head.  What if, every time I did something disrespectful/emasculating, I gave him the right to spank me?  I thought that maybe it would bring the times that I acted inappropriately toward him to my attention, and also give him back some of the power that he feels has been taken from him.  Also…I was 99% sure that spanking really did it for him :).

It was a crazy idea, but I figured I'd run it by him.  If it wasn't something he was interested in, I'd happily put the idea away.  Spanking is something I can take or leave, it's not that exciting to me.

So, I brought it up.  I told him my thoughts about how I thought some of our interactions were affecting him.  I told him that it was unintentional, but still inexcusable.  I talked to him about my idea of spanking as "punishment".  And I waited to see what he thought.  It didn't take long.  He didn't even have to tell me.  I could see it on his face…and in his pants.  

"Helloooo, Mr. Penis.  And thank you for the salute."

So far we have not done anything with it.  Things have been pretty good.  But, it's had an effect.  For some reason, this really seems to have broken through our sex conversation barrier.  We've truly begun talking about our sexuality.

I've been able to tell him most of what I'm discovering about myself, albeit with a blush, a sideways glance, and a hand covering my mouth.  He's also been able to share some of what he likes as well.  It's going slow, but steady.  I think our marriage really has a good chance now.  The most surprising and exciting thing to come to light over the last couple of weeks?  It turns out that my very sweet, feminist, mildly repressed husband has turned out to have a burgeoning dominant streak.  Well, well, well…

Here today gone tomorrow.

You may notice over the coming days that I don't post quite as much.  This would be because the red card has been up since I've entered the no man's land of my cycle (literally) yesterday morning.  There comes a point in my cycle every month when I just don't want sex at all.  It's not even a low libido issue.  It's not as if I can try and muster some desire, the idea of having sex actually makes me angry.  I just don't get it.

I was really hoping that it was all in my head and that I would just sail through this month's "no man's land" and not even notice it.  I was totally wrong.  I was just sitting around on Saturday night, and I realized that I wasn't that interested anymore.  A few hours later, I was fundamentally against sex in any form.  Ahh, well.  We're making progress at least.  I was so enjoying the feeling of actually being horny, that it made me very sad to watch my libido pack its bags and leave me.

I have to remember that there's hope though.  I really really did feel insanely aroused for quite a while there.  I'm sure it will come again once I pass through this hormonal phase.

On a side note, I recently had hormone tests run so it will be interesting to see what the doctor has to say about how to correct what's going on.  I've had multiple endocrine problems most of my life, so I know when something has changed.  I'm just glad that I finally found a doctor who is willing to help.  I'll keep you posted as to what she says and how my treatment is working.  What's surprising about this no libido phase is that it's at the time when most women are supposed to be at their horniest.  It's right around ovulation that I start hating sex.  A few days after, I go back to normal.  I suspect it's an estrogen/testosterone/progesterone imbalance issue.  When I gaze into my crystal ball, I see progesterone supplements in my future.

So, that's probably enough of that.  In the interest of full disclosure, I just wanted you all to know what was going on.

“Leaving sex to the feminists is like letting your dog vacation at the taxidermist”-Camilla Paglia

I'm not sure how I feel about Camilla Paglia, but this quote hit the mark for me.  I've spent so much of my life thinking that I need to be an empowered sexual woman and following the standard advice to that effect, that I never stopped to think about what I want in the bedroom.

I've suddenly been put in a position where I have to question the conventional feminist wisdom about what should get me off.

After I first talked to my husband about the "guidelines", I found an extraordinary thing begin to happen.  I grew horny.  Serious, abdomen aching, breathless, can't think of anything else but sex, horniness.  The more I thought about the fact that he could just have sex with me whenever he wanted, the hornier I got.  I started fantasizing about him coming in to the kitchen while I was making dinner and forcefully fondling me.  I started thinking about him bending me over the chair in the living room, without my immediate consent and at any time.

It turns out, that this is really getting me off.  Who'da thunk it?  Not me, that's for sure.  I assumed that he would really enjoy this new arrangement, I never thought that the idea of him having that kind of power would be such a turn on for me.  At first it scared me a little.  I'm supposed to be a powerful, independent, modern woman.  I'm not supposed to want a man to have power over me.  But, it's obvious that I do.  In fact, I really, really want him to have almost total power over me.   Just sitting here typing this makes my heart skip a beat.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this now.  I think I've come to terms with it a bit.  I recognize that while I want him to have power over me, I also want/need to trust my partner.  And I trust him completely.  I know that he has my best interests, safety, and well being at heart in everything he does.  I think this is essential.

And a public service announcement from our sponsor:

I need to make a statement so that no one reading this blog gets the wrong idea.  Some women like forcefulness.  They might even like the illusion of being forced.  But, no healthy woman wants to actually be forced.  There is a huge difference between assertive/forceful masculinity and brutish asshole-ery.  So, to be crystal clear, any playing with power needs to be absolutely consensual.  It also needs to be at least as much about the one being forced as it is about the one doing the forcing, if not moreso.

That being said, I can get back to the fun stuff.

I've begun to realize that I really want him to manhandle me.  I want him to hold me down and do the things to me that I'm too shy to ask for.  I want him to give me pleasure "against my will".  I want him to make me his play thing.  In short, I want to be dominated.

Well, fuck me, it turns out that I'm submissive.

What a surprise that was.  As far as self-realization goes, it's a whopper.  And it's given me all sorts of things to think about as far as my relationship goes, and why it went wrong.

Rules and Regulations

Deciding that one of the easy things I could address in my marriage was the lack of consistent sex, I set about trying to figure out how to do that.  My first step was to take stock of my feelings.  What was blocking me from wanting to have sex whenever my husband wanted to?

First, of course, are my health issues.  Some days I just feel terrible.  Who wants to have sex when they feel awful?  I know I don't.  When I wake up, sore, achey, and fluish, the last thing I want to do is get all sexy-like with my husband.  This, unfortunately is not something I can work my way around all that well, so let's move on.

Second, his high expectations.  We really do have an amazing erotic connection when we do have sex.  Both of us are pretty comfortable with sex and go at it with gusto when we're in the mood.  Scott's grown to expect the same level of oomph all of the time.  He'll try and try and try to get me there, often passing the point of comfort for me.  You have to give him an A for effort.  But, it's this pressure to perform that often stands in the way of me giving in to his desires.  I know that he expects me to grunt and moan and writhe with pleasure, when sometimes I just don't feel it.  So, I say no...

Third, my libido really is abysmally low.  I just haven't been interested in sex.  It actually seems kinda yucky when I'm not aroused.  I don't even masturbate, that's how I know that it's much more than a relationship issue.

Finally, he usually wants to have actual intercourse, because of the same mis-guided notion that causes him to try and try to make me climax.  I told you he was a natural feminist.  He really wants to give me as much pleasure as he gets.  I love that about him...in theory.  But, sometimes I'd just be happy to give him a hand or blow job.  When I'm not in the mood, I still want him to be happy.

All of this leads to trouble.  Basically, he wants to have mind blowing sex.  That's wonderful, except that my libido isn't a match for his right now.  He gets frustrated if I can't emotionally/erotically perform at my best.  And since I have little in the way of a libido, all of this pressure has made me back away from most sexual contact with him.

So, how could I change that?  I had an idea that evolved from some of the articles on "Taken in Hand".  I sat and thought about all of the reasons that I refuse him, and tried to set up a system that would remove or at least alleviate most of them.  Then I wrote up a list of guidelines, that went something like this:

Sex on Demand Guidelines:

On the front of the fridge I will hang a card with one of three colors on it.  Whichever card card is on top of the pile will indicate to you which mood I am in.

red=stop

yellow=caution

green=go

The red card will usually mean that I'm unable to engage in sex for health reasons.

I will try to have the green card up as much as I feel comfortable with.

I may change the card at any time based on my health/emotional status.

Unless we are someplace private, the "game" doesn't apply outside of the house

If it is a yellow card day, you are entitled to:

-Fondle/Manhandle me

-Demand a hand job (blow job substitutions are at my discretion)

If it is a green card day, you are also entitled to:

-Have your way with me whenever you want to

-Use toys

To take part in this you must:

-Be aware that I might only be marginally interested and am doing this because I think you're nifty keen and want to feel like I've made you happy

-Not try to make me cum unless I ask you to

-Use lube (so be prepared)

-Give me lots of hugs and smooches

Essentially, I tried to create a system giving him almost free access to me on days when I feel okay, and removing the need for me to try to perform when I feel I can't.  I wanted to remove as many obstacles as possible, but still retain some control.

How does "Taken in Hand" factor into this?  Many of the male led relationships written about on that site are sex on demand relationships.  The women need to be ready for sex at any time.  I kept reading about how that just becomes the norm.  The women stop self-checking to see if they are interested, which is something I do and usually results in a "No."  Now, unrestricted sex on demand wouldn't work for me at all because when my illnesses are flaring up everything hurts and I'm totally miserable.  But, a modified version allowing me to have days off...that might work.

I figured that it couldn't hurt to try.  As long as he wasn't expecting me to turn into a quivering mass of horny womanflesh, then I could do my best to give him satisfaction.  I spent a lot of time thinking about the guidelines and eventually presented them to him.

They received a very warm reception :).

And next time...the repercussions...

Beguiling Google and its Sage Counsel

I began looking everywhere for help.  I googled everything I could think of that might have some bearing on our relationship.  Eventually I came across a site that, while not for me in its entirety, definitely made me think.  It kept surfacing in my thoughts, and I realized that my sub-consious was trying to tell me something.  There was something there that I needed to explore.

It's a site called "Taken in Hand", and it's about male led relationships.

Now, I need to be abundantly clear.  I really don't believe that a male led relationship is for me, and I really believe it's not for Scott either.  But, I've grown enough that I'm not going to rule it out completely, because I've made some surprising discoveries about myself since I first read that site.  But, the idea turns me off and makes me a little angry.  Many of the articles are written from the point of view that men are superior, and I really just don't believe that.

I'm a very competent woman.  I have an IQ in excess of 140, have pretty decent kinesthetic abilities, am a great cook, understand a lot of complex processes, and have a great facility with languages and the process oriented sciences.  There is no one on earth who can tell me convincingly that I can't keep up with most men.  So, I really don't buy the idea that men are superior.

What I do buy, however, is the idea that many of us are biologically wired to behave in a certain way within the context of a male/female relationship.  When I realized that I agreed with this, it came as a complete shock to me.  There were many small pieces of evidence that eventually caused me to accept this hypothesis.

I have to interject at this time that the relationships that were modeled for me as a child were not, in any way, balanced in power.  I grew up with a very, very domineering mother and grandmother.  They very much wore the pants in their relationships.  I watched my grandfather and step-father get henpicked every day and it had an effect on me.  I never ever wanted to do that to my partner.  I wanted everything to be equitable and fair.

That's how I've tried to approach my relationship with Scott.  I know that some of the behaviors that I saw growing up have edged their way into our relationship, but by and large we've managed to keep things equal.  The behaviors are less about intent and more about habit.  Let me explain.  I may sometimes come across as domineering when I don't mean to because the words I choose to use are the same ones my mother would use, or my grandmother.  I repeat them out of habit, not meaning.  Catch my drift?  Generally, I think we've done well so far in that regard.  Or, at least, I thought we had.

Now would also be a good time to tell you that I believe both my grandmother and mother to have personality disorders.  Neither is healthy in the least.  After many years of therapy, I am confident that I've escaped the worst of their issues and am relatively healthy (my therapist was confidant too).  My mother has odd and inappropriate boundaries and when she isn't totally cold to me, she tells me things she probably shouldn't.  Last summer, she told me that her husband was such a wuss that she didn't find him attractive anymore.

Despite the fact that this this gave me the willies, it stuck with me.  I think I finally know why.

When I started reading all of this "male-led relationship" stuff, I tried to take from it what I could.  The more I read, the more I realized that the main problem is that modern relationships make men feel emasculated.  I'm not talking about equality here.  I'm talking about the Homer Simpson-ization of all men.  We have this idea that all men are bumbling fools who couldn't get by without their very clever wives.  You see it all the time on television.  It's what is reinforced for us day after day.  Home Improvement.  Everybody Loves Raymond.  Family Guy.  The Simpsons.  I could go on. We all know it when we see it.

And the thing that really got me was:  I WAS DOING THAT!  I know that Scott is a bit child-like, he hurts himself a lot, he can never find anything, and he depends on me too much.  But, I didn't need to treat him that way; rolling my eyes and saying his name with exasperation.  Unbeknownst to me, I was being incredibly rude and disrespectful.  I've been doing serious psychological damage to him for many years and wasn't even aware of it.  I was also, more than likely, propping up the very behavior that I find frustrating.  The more I treated him like a dumb child, the more he rebelled and acted like one.  What a Lose Lose situation.

And here comes the kicker.  The less he acted like a man, the less I wanted him sexually.  The less I wanted him sexually, the more petulant he became.  Wow, how much does that suck?  We'd been stuck in a vicious cycle headed toward marital oblivion and I wasn't even aware of it.

When the light bulb went on, I decided to do something about it.  The easiest thing to do was to do my absolute best to rectify our low sex marriage.

And that's where I'll stop...

I put on my research beenie

My husband has a very cute nickname for me, which unfortunately, I can't share with you.  As you've probably guessed, Ana is not my real name.  It is a name that I am used to being called, but it's not the name I was born with.  In order to share with you my cute nickname, I'd have to tell you my real name, as it's a play on the ever-famous "Encyclopedia Britanica".

I am a purveyor of incredibly useless information.  I read constantly, am always learning, and am desperate to share information with everyone else.  There is nothing I love more than a conversation that goes something like this:

"Hey, did you know that sloths only pee once a week?"

"NO, how crazy is that?  I heard something interesting the other day too.  Did you know that..."

I absolutely love this.  I love learning bizarre little factoids.  It makes me feel alive in a strange way that I can't really convey.  When I was a kid, I was addicted to National Geographic and the Discovery Channel.  I'd just suck up all of that info and organize it inside my wee head.  I have this idea that I have this wall of information, theories, and facts inside my noggin.  Each time I receive a brick of knowledge, I figure out where it goes and plug it into the wall.  I've always hoped that eventually I'll have a sort of lacy structure that encompasses a tiny bit of everything and gives me some grand understanding of the universe that so far has been denied me.  I really am a freak :).

To approach this in a much more concise manner, I'll describe my personality in the fewest words possible.  Unfortunately, this will only make sense to the Harry Potter readers out there.  If Hermione and Luna had a baby...she'd be something like me.

You can imagine my joy and sheer bliss when the internet appeared.  I am a passionate googler.  I use Google in ways that would make a librarian want to kiss me.  I simply cannot let a day go by without researching something.  It is a healthy compulsion.

So, when I made the startling discovery that my marriage was broken and I would do anything to fix it, I immediately turned to beguiling google for help.

Just call me Ms. Fix-it

The idea that my marriage is worth saving may be a given for some people.  As a child of many divorces, however, I recognize that life goes on after a marriage ends.  It is sticky, painful, awkward, and terrible, but like any traumatic event, eventually you pick up the pieces and move on.  Don't get me wrong, I very much value my marriage, and marriages in general, but I don't believe that Divorce should not be an option when things progress beyond redemption.

I really have never thought that our marriage would end.  I love my husband.  I may not be as "in love" with him as I was when we said our vows, but I do love him more completely and with greater understanding than I did then.  He is my family.

When divorce was brought up, it really threw me.  I walked away and had to really think about it.  It's obvious that we're broken.  We just don't work the way we should.  I could see that we were both standing on the edge of a cliff and one wrong step would send us both hurtling into the abyss.  I could also see that I could not spend my life up on that cliff with him, my body just can't take that kind of stressful abuse.  We really only have 2 options, fix it or forget it.

I want to fix it.  I don't want to walk away.  I don't want to lose him as my family.  I really don't want to amputate that limb.  In realizing that, I realized that I need to stop contributing to the twisted dynamic in our relationship.  Of course, it would be preferred to have both of us consciously working on that, but healing has to start somewhere.  I believe, based on things he's said, that he wants the same thing I do, to keep our marriage from crumbling into dust.

As I mentioned before, this realization has punted me into research mode.

Oh how I love him, let me count the ways...

After that lengthy list of issues, you may be thinking one of two things.  You may be thinking that I'm insane to stay with him, or that I'm just insane :).  I swear, neither of those things are true (well, I might be a little crazy, aren't we all?).  All of what I said is accurate, but that's not the whole story.

Despite these things, Scott is a truly kind and wonderful person.  We all have our faults and he's no exception.  Some of these "irregularities of character" are double-sided.  His fault becomes a virtue in a certain light.

His grumpy snarkiness has a brighter side, he's a fundamentally honest person.  I'm not sure he would know how to lie if his life depended on it.  He really does have no self-censoring mechanism.  It makes dealing with him very easy in a lot of ways.  I know that if he says something, he really means it.  I don't have to worry that he's going to say one thing and mean another.  It's just not part of who he is.

His impulsiveness comes out in romantic ways as well.  His proposal to me was heartfelt and spontaneous.  When he buys me flowers, it's not because he thinks he's in the doghouse, it's because he saw them and they made him think of me.  There's an innocence to him that is very appealing.

His rebelliousness is not a virtue in the normal sense, but it's a virtue to me.  I am not your run of the mill person either.  I really value his streak of independence.  He doesn't usually think like or want what the average person does.  This allows me to let my freak flag fly too.  I find that refreshing.

He's a really good friend.  He will drop anything to go help someone he cares for.  He's kind and usually very understanding.  The girlfriend he had before me was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after they began dating.  He stuck with her through the whole ordeal (she's fine now), and remains friends with her to this day.  He's usually very supportive of me in my trials and tribulations.  When I was diagnosed with a digestive disorder that caused me to have to completely overhaul my diet, he was right alongside me without complaint.

He loves animals and they love him.  This isn't a virtue per se, but it really indicates what kind of person he is.  He is very gentle with animals and takes very good care of our pets.

He's fun.  We don't exactly have the same sense of humor, but he is often full of laughter.  I love that about him.

He's great in the sack.  Really.  He is a considerate lover, I never go away unsatisfied if he can help it.

He is a natural feminist.  He really has never given me any indication that he feels superior to me, or that men are superior in his mind at all.

He loves almost all women.  Seriously, you show him a woman, and as long as she's not anorexic, he'll find something about her that he thinks is hot.  I really, really love that.

So much of what makes a person wonderful is not quantifiable.  I found myself writing and re-writing this entry multiple times.  How can you capture a person's essence?  It's a lot easier to list your gripes than it is to explain why someone is fantastic.  So, I'll just say that essentially, he is, or has the makings to be, a truly amazing man.  He is the best person I've ever known.  He just has a real problem dealing with his own emotions/inadequacies and I often get caught in the cross-fire.

My side of the conflict...

I can't continue my honest account of wanting to save my marriage without acknowledging my issues with my husband.  I do plan on explaining how truly wonderful he is also, so please don't take this to be my description of him in its entirety.

He has pretty bad ADHD, which he won't seek treatment for.  His ADHD causes him to have some fairly anti-social qualities.  He has no self-censoring mechanism.  He blurts.  Unfortunately, his outbursts are sometimes hurtful.  He's not abusive, don't get me wrong, but he often is a lot harsher with me than he should be.  I get my feelings rubbed the wrong way, or even hurt, on an almost daily basis.

He is impulsive.  We will often discuss plans, come to an agreement, and talk about how to implement whatever scheme we've decided on.  This is all great and as it should be.  However...I will come to find that Scott has gone and done something completely different and without my knowledge or consent.  When we first got married, we bought a rundown little craftsman and went about the happy business of making it our home.  Our front yard was a mass of lumpy, weed infested grass.  We had many detailed conversations about what to do with it.  I had only one stipulation, he could do whatever he wanted, as long as he left some grass so that in the rainy winter months our front yard wouldn't become a mud pit.  I woke up late one Saturday morning to find that Scott had dug up most of the front yard.

He doesn't follow through.  Back to the yard.  I finally just gave in and decided to help him in his endeavors.  We rented a bobcat and dug the whole thing up.  He had me order a large load of dirt so that he could fix the quality of the soil.  The day after we dug up the front yard, a large truck came and dumped many, many yards of compost-y dirt in our front yard.  The dirt sat there for the next 12 months.  When he started talking about working on the yard again, we made the unhappy discovery that a good portion of the dirt had washed away over the winter.  So, we ordered more, which also sat untouched for a year.  Eventually, we moved out of that house, the yard was still undone.

He's moody.  I often don't know what kind of reception I'm going to get when I talk to him.  He's never intentionally hurtful, but if he's in a bad mood it's dangerous for a sensitive person like me to talk to him.  We end up fighting.  (And yes, he actually is moody, by his own admission.)

He wants to be a rebel.  He has a deep seated hatred of authority.  Unfortunately, that often gets directed at me.  He gets very angry if I try to help him, or if I get upset with him because he's done something that I consider to be detrimental to our life together.  I think he may even have a mild case of Oppositional Defiant Disorder (my brother, who also has ADHD, has it).  He has trouble with the idea of doing a job just for a paycheck.  I actually understand that.  I do.  But, I wouldn't be willing to compromise our financial safety by impulsively quitting my job.  He would.  Thankfully he's never done that, but he's threatened to.

He's not always emotionally astute.  Shortly after we started dating, I began hemorrhaging one day (yes, in my girly bits).  He raced me to the ER and I went right in with my closest friend, G.  I was very freaked out.  I have a serious phobia of all things gynecological and this was just so incredibly traumatic.  It was a many hour ordeal, the outcome of which was that I'd had a spontaneous hormonal D & C.  About a year later, he got drunk and berated me for not bringing him into the exam room.  He said he was angry because I didn't give him any info and he was worried.  While I was touched that he was that worried, I was also livid with him for making such a big deal about something that was so traumatic FOR ME!  Not him...ME!  We'd only been dating for a month at the time, and I really didn't feel comfortable including him in something that medically intimate.  I also didn't want to begin associating him with my pelvic exam phobia.  I had my reasons.  I also sent G out to tell him anytime we learned something new.  He was no more in the dark than I was.

This is the sum of my issues with Scott, the main reasons why I become frustrated with him.  I'm sure there are other things, but this is enough to be getting on with.

How things went bad...

In January of this year, I had a life altering visit to the doctor, as a condition that I've had since I was a teen suddenly progressed into a much more serious issue.  I've had many health trials over the years, leading me to go to extreme lengths to attempt to take care of myself.  Despite this, by my mid thirties, I'd managed to pick up no less than 4 moderate to serious chronic illnesses, which I've weathered with a stiff upper lip (my scottish grandparents would be proud).  This last one, though, was just too much for me.  I had a little breakdown.

Unfortunately, my wee breakdown coincided with Scott's untimely mid-life crisis (we've been a fun couple, oh yes we have).  All of the petty grievances, minor annoyances, well nurtured grudges, and day to day marriage disasters came to a head.  We were fighting almost every day, and our relationship became strained and unhappy.  He felt trapped and miserable, stuck in a job he no longer likes because I need health insurance and can't work.  I felt abandoned and betrayed, because at the time when I needed him most, all he could think of was himself.

To be abundantly clear, our marriage had been disintegrating for some time.  I'd completely lost my libido (mostly due to those pesky illnesses I mentioned) about 6 years into our marriage, leading to infrequent encounters.  This, of course, caused a lot of friction.  When you're used to having sex 4-5 times a week, having sex once or twice a month doesn't cut it.  There were times when we would go 1-2 months without getting busy.  He was not a happy boy.

And I was frustrated with him because he'd stopped being gentle with me.  He'd begun snapping at and being short with me a lot of the time.  I felt stymied in my pursuit of emotional intimacy because every time I'd go in for a cuddle, he'd go in for a grope.  I couldn't deal with the pressure and pulled away.

Of course, there were many other issues, but these are the big ones.  Neither of us was really happy.  But, I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we really do love each other.  He's my favorite person.  I still want to spend the rest of my life with him and I think he feels the same.

That's why it was so surprising to both of us when one of our fights led one of us to bring up the  D word.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E find out what it means to me...

I sat on the porch afterward, feeling frail and broken, and realized that I couldn't keep living this way.  I was worried about my emotional health, sure.  But it was my physical health, which was taking a massive hit with every nasty word between us, that really concerned me.  I thought a lot about what had gone wrong.  I thought a lot about what I wanted.  I thought a lot about who was at fault (of course I did, who doesn't).

And I came to realize a number of truly surprising things.  I realized that I really do want to spend the rest of my life with my husband.  I realized that I was willing to do whatever I could to fix whatever had gone wrong.  And therefore, it mattered not even a teensy bit who was at fault.  It only mattered that we stop placing blame and start taking responsibility.

But, I still didn't know what to do, so I turned to a steadfast friend for advice.  I turned to Google.