So you probably get it by now that I am in favor of marriage. Marriage is important. It’s vitally important to defend and fight for your marriage. No matter what’s going on, aside from outright abuse, your marriage is worth a fight. It’s worth laying aside all your pride, rolling up your sleeves and getting in the mud and muck and fighting like all of hell is after you. Because it is.
Satan hates a strong, godly marriage where the family puts God first and rejects the world’s image of disposable marriages, discounted vows, discouraged couples and disaffected children, dismantled stability, discarded families. You’d better believe he’s after your marriage.
As you’ve seen, if you have read here much at all, our marriage was very atypical in many ways. We didn’t have that crazy first year with tons of sex and exploring our intimate life together, figuring out what we liked best, what each other wanted most, etc. Our first year was confusing…bewildering even. We didn’t understand why sex was so hard for us…for me. We were still hanging on to hope that time would take care of the issues, that it was just a matter of “trying more” or getting used to it…or SOMEthing!!
By the time we finally decided we needed medical help, we had been dealing with it for ten years, had two kids and for all intents and purposes, we looked like every other young couple. Nobody knew how we were struggling. We didn’t talk to anyone about it, not even each other except to yell when the frustration became too much.
I want to get Tommy to sit down with me and do a video. I’m not sure what he’ll think about that ha ha but I think it would be good for him to at least say a little bit about his side of things. We are both healing together. Even though the physical side of the problem was mine as far as the pain went, and perhaps I bore more of the depression and stuff like that, but he carried a lot of emotional pain as well.
We’ve never talked a whole lot about that. I mean, I have shared a little, just me and him, about how I felt and then of course, he’s heard me relate it to my therapist and read what I’ve written here about it, but we’ve never really discussed his side so much.
He might not want to. Maybe he never knew how to voice it or maybe it hurt too much to speak out loud. I have been in that place too, where I didn’t know how to put into words the way I felt.
I know there are a few men who read here, or at least they have at one time. heh I would like to hear from ALL of you, what you would ask Tommy? Are there parts of this story that you’d like his take on? Are there things that you would like to know from his side?
Please put those in the comments for us? I would really love for us to have a conversation about where he was, emotionally, and where he is now as we are in the healing process. What would he have done differently? What would he keep the same, if anything? What made him choose to stay? Did he really still have hope that our sex life would ever be remotely normal? Those are the questions I want to ask. I’m not sure I’ll like the answers, but I think it’s important for us to flesh this out and I feel like maybe others could benefit from hearing his viewpoint.
DON’T FORGET! Leave your questions in the comments! (or you can email them to me at: geannie [at] lifeindogyears [dot] com)