Greiving the Loss of My Sexual Relationship with My Husband
My life is not what I thought it would be 7 years ago when I fell in love with my partner, the man I married and who later became the father of my son.
When we married, we didn’t sign a license. We didn’t promise ‘till death do us part’, or to even love each other forever… those were things I knew I could never guarantee because I didn’t know the future, and the future changes people.
We didn’t have rings or a preacher or even a white dress and a black tuxedo. On that December night, two days after Christmas, we stood in front of all our family and friends and promised “So long as our hearts were willing, we would open to and love each other fully. And God let our hearts be willing!” That was our promise and prayer.
Not even 20 yet, I already wisely knew people change, most relationships, even marriages, fail and that love is something to be freely given and nourished, not trapped and ‘guaranteed.’
I was right to do it that way – I was wise. And yet, the story-ending I hedged against by being more honest in my vows has come to pass.
The pain of it all hits me now. I have loved him so much, given so much of myself and received so much from him and now we have reached what I am sure is the end. We’ve been on a downward spiral for over a year now and no matter how much I consider all sides, my heart still tells me to let it go – that this is indeed the end. I am leaving. The relationship has become stagnant and toxic and it's killing me.
I have cried many, many tears already and today I cry the saddest ones. I cry for my loss of the sweet intimacy I had with him… I cry because the beautiful experiences I had with him are completely and irrevocably irreplaceable. There are irreplaceable!
All the sexual experiences we had, which brought me to the highest places of sexual pleasure I have ever experienced, I grieve the end of. The times, sacred and lusty, when our spirits joined in sex and I saw God and Goddess themselves. I touched heaven itself.
My heart mourns the end of those earth-moving mystical and whole being-opening fucks we had, which were one hundred times the intensity of what many people will ever experience in their whole life.
Oh my sexual healer, my husband… you lead me through the most painful time in my life. You held the space for me to overcome intense and crippling sexual pain. You guided my spirit and loved me unconditionally as I found my way. We did it together and now… my healing has lead us apart. It’s so ironic and unexpected.
When you set a woman sexually free, you can no longer own her. That’s the catch to all this talk of sexual freedom. Men, when you say you want a woman who will do dirty things with you, love your body up, drink your cum, throw you down and come back for more, you don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t know what you’re asking, because a woman who will do that, will never be your subservient wife. She can never be owned by you, only enjoyed and valued.
Just over a year ago we reached the peak of our relationship together. We fucked for hours, my mind completely gone, pure sensation in all my being, my hands and legs tied to free me. My spirit soared with each stroke of his cock, leading me to - no shit - freakin’ visions of heaven, trees, water, planets! I had healings of past-lives and the release of my deepest woundings during sex with him. He touched my heart, spirit and body fully.
All those sweet memories. I weep as I realize there will be no other you again. I love you. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. And I am sad it ended so quickly after we just barely seemed to begin to touch our full sexual potential together. The pain and stagnancy of staying is so great though. I feel the stop of that flow of energy when we’re together, just as strong as the flow was together, that it feels like it will kill me.
He witnessed my full sexual potential and it was the most pleasurable experience I have ever had in my life. I lust to feel my own sexual potential awakened again. Desperate to feel fully penetrated, fully opened, I look around the world, longing for a man to witness my full sexual power. It’s addictive.
I notice now, the truth of it piercing me to the core, I am desperate, thirsty and empty feeling and it leads me to do all sorts of strange things. Driven by the grief of my loss of intimacy with the man who was my beloved husband, I project onto lovers, obsess and daily employ a multitude of coping mechanisms to hide from the truth of my fear, pain and intense loneliness.
When I saw the depth of denial I have been in towards my pain yesterday, I couldn’t help but wonder why I don’t turn to myself for these kinds of earth-moving sexual experiences. I hear in my mind the passage in Sex For One when Betty talks about her experiences doing what she called “transcendental masturbation.” Every time I read that passage I always smile because I understand. I have tasted many times the incredible spiritual potential of our sexual energy. And yet, why am I so sad when… perhaps that energy that lead me to those amazing experiences resides within myself? *I* had the experiences after all. Where does this aversion to pursuing such experiences on my own come from?
I need to masturbate more and spend more quality time with myself. I am a crazy person without it. I stretch out for and cling to lovers to take care of me, instead of me taking care of myself. Thank you for showing me that, all my teachers (especially including Betty and Carlin), mentors, loves and self. Self, you have shown me a lot. Thank you.