I've only ever had sex with my husband, that's the truth. I have to admit, before we were married we did some stupid things that I'm not proud of and pray my daughter won't stumble as I did. Ultimately that will be her choice and consequences to bare.
It felt like there were two halves of me at war with each other, one side told me: don't touch yourself, your body is dirty, don't look at yourself, sex is bad, becoming aroused is bad, and so on. Then there was my wild side, I tried to keep him hidden away in a cage. I peaked at him once and a while; I could see him drooling and pawing away, through the bars of his cage, at some scared emotion of mine that had gotten too close. This side wanted sex, to experiment, to see the unseen, to sneak off in the middle of the night, to get lost in the pleasure of arousal. This side also told me if I didn't give in to kissing, touching, and ultimately sex that he would leave me or find someone who would give him what he wanted. So I caged up my unwanted half and tried to forget about him.
I wish I had known my first half was lying to me and so was my caged wild side. Sex isn't bad and if he's going to leave me he will do so even if we have sex.
Sex just needs to wait for marriage, and so does anything that is a deliberate attempt to get the other person sexually aroused.
I remember the first time I got aroused. My husband (then boy friend) was tickling me, trying to make me laugh. He didn't touch me inappropriately and he wasn't trying to get me aroused yet my wild side got loose and tore through my hormone stash looking for a party. I was instantly flooded with hormones I had no desire for and felt ashamed my body had responded inappropriately to something meant to be innocent. I quickly moved away from my boy friend and ignored him until the feelings went away. (This was a bad response, I should have asked him to stop but I shouldn't have felt ashamed for being aroused. Arousal is a normal bodily function as is an adrenalin rush or getting tiered.) I didn't talk about the experience, instead I shoved my wild side deeper into my hidden life. There he starved for over a year as I slowly trained my body to respond a-sexually.
On my wedding day I stood in front of his cage holding a dusty key. I was afraid to let him out, afraid he would terrorize my other half and try to eat her alive. After our "I do's" I was in a hurry to get back to our room. One I felt like I was about to suffocate in the body slip I had foolishly chosen to wear and two I was ready to get the sex over with so my wild side wouldn't over take me.
We got back to our room and my new husband was instantly ready to go; I figured all we had to do was put penis in vagina and fireworks would fly. I felt like my wild side had went into a coma, nothing happened for me; well nothing except for pain. Everything was tight, I wasn't aroused, and every movement felt like sand paper. No one had told me about foreplay and its importance; I lived with that for more than a year. I still with my lack of libido from my a-sexual training, but its getting better.
After about a year of sex we gave up on my orgasm. It didn't look like it was possible. I remember playing a game with my husband once that helped get me aroused, all those hormones flooded into my system and started to awaken my wild side again. It also stirred up the memory of my shame the first time I had felt those feelings; I quickly shut them down. (This wasn't the right response to feelings I should have had the whole year before. I should have let go and relax, to have enjoyed those feelings.)
It was about this time we started to try to have a baby, as in sex every other day kind of try. My husband loved it; I can't say he was disappointed not having to wear a condom either. I really wanted to get pregnant so we had a little over a year of nothing but quickies and they were painful for me. I didn't say anything to my husband about it, I figured I was just one of the few women who didn't like sex.
After a year of trying to get pregnant i gave up and went a month without having sex, partly because I could no longer use a tampon much less bear the pain of penetration. Then I let my wild side loose again one day while we were swimming by ourselves. I convinced my husband to have sex with me in the pool, it wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be; but it didn't hurt either. I found out a month later that I was pregnant.
At first I was sick all the time an didn't want sex, then I was tiered, and once my belly really came in I was hurting everywhere so I really didn't want sex then. I did try and carve out a few minutes once a week to make sure to have sex with my husband. I didn't help that each time hurt more than the last.
Finally the big day came and my daughter was born. I was given a six week doctors note to not have sex. I was relieved, no more feeling the pressure of having to have sex. Six weeks flew by so fast and there I was laying naked on the bed with a doctors note to have sex three times a week for at least a month to work out my episiotomy scar. I was TERRIFIED, an when he went to penetrated my fears were reenforced by the wall that had replaced my vaginal canal.
We tried to have sex every day for a week but he was unable to penetrate. My husband came to the conclusion that I had shrunk and needed to be stretched out, that if he pushed in very fast when I wasn't expecting it would hurt as bad. I've never felt so much pain, giving birth was more pleasant than what I felt that afternoon. I never wanted to have sex again and confessed that fact to my mother who then made me get help.
Turns out I had been suffering from Vaginismus (an uncontrollable clamping of the vaginal muscles making intercource painful) for the three years that we had been married. I've been treated, sex is still uncomfortable and im still struggling to come to terms with my wild side. My hormones are all out of proportion and arousal is still out of reach bit in excited to see where this road of healing is going to take me. I'm hopeful once I stop breastfeeding my hormones will balance and I can start to retrain myself to respond sexually to my husband in the ways I was meant to.
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