Sunday, February 8, 2015

Sex Ceases to be a Demon Only When it Ceases to be a God

The title of my post is an adaptation from a line in C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves, which he applies to love. Like love, sex can be an appropriate binding power in a marriage, carrying partners past behavior and feelings born simply of duty or good intentions. Over the last week I feel like I've made progress in my understanding of the role sex can have in a marriage and recovery. I thought I'd share.

I've been sleeping on the couch for the past week. My wife and I are about a month through a two-ish month period of in-marriage celibacy, so at first it may seem strange that I would sleep on the couch since we weren't having sex anyways. Still, I think there's a crucial difference. Firstly, is that I chose to sleep on the couch. Additionally, I'm still committed to recovery. If anything, I've been working harder than ever--doing my same recovery work, yes, but also writing love notes to my wife every day, making time to talk with her for a few hours at night, and staying in touch with support people when I need it. I think that's kind of the point. I'm not settling for a little nearness with my wife and a mostly sober existence...I'm showing her (and me) that I'm unwilling to settle for anything less than complete sobriety and a completely loving and appropriate relation within marriage.

Because we haven't had a fulfilling relationship in a lot of ways. It's easy to pretend like things are fine. I've been craving affirming communication and signs of affection (physical but non-sexual touch), and since our celibacy began I wasn't really getting them. I can't really blame my wife. There's a lot of baggage: my desire to connect physically and even emotionally have been partly motivated by addict me.  In the past I've admitted to wanting sex because of lusting during the day. So even though the biggest part of me honestly wants to connect with her, how is she supposed to judge between the honest and the manipulative? On top of all this, she doesn't want to risk triggering me and leading me to acting out. So not only is sex complicated, but even during celibacy dealing with signs of affection and communication feels overwhelming. It's easier for us to avoid our problems rather than work on them.

For example, she would let me cuddle with her if she could warm up her cold feet on me...but that led to a conflict within me. Part of me would say "I don't want her to tolerate physical (non-sexual) touch with me, I want her to want it." Then, the addicted part of me was saying, "I'm willing to take whatever she's willing to give, and maybe I can push the boundary a little." So in a way, she was rewarding my addict self by allowing physical touch without emotional connection. By deciding to sleep on the couch and calmly telling her how I felt, I sent her a message that I'm willing to wait for her--being worthy of her trust--until she's willing to forgive and we're both able to connect with genuine love.

Sleeping on the couch has been uncomfortable for both of us. My discomfort is the easy one--it's a futon. Hers is the emotional. "Isn't that what couples that are on the verge of breaking up do?" or "What if the kids find out, or the neighbors?" or "Is this a sign that he is mad at me or trying to manipulate me?" Maybe it also felt more severe for both of us since I haven't slept anywhere but our bed in our entire nine years of marriage (outside of travel). However, I feel like this discomfort is a positive thing--my wife wasn't very happy about it until she understood my reasoning, but now she knows how much I value her positive communication and her initiating signs of affection. She feels safe that I'm not going to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. She also knows I'm not going to give in to a little bit of fulfillment. She knows I'm not ok with our habits of poor communication and unreciprocated physical touch, but I still love her and want to work on it.

From my perspective, I know I won't die without sex. I feel more comfortable knowing I can't give into temptations to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. I now know I can trust my wife to initiate signs of affection and loving communication--I believe I was stifling her by not allowing her the chance. Most importantly, my wife and I have been getting to sleep much later than usual because we love talking and being with each other and connecting in non-sexual ways. Sleeping in separate rooms makes us realize that we don't want to be separated. Although I hope she doesn't come to like having so much room in the bed. :)

We are working on our own recoveries so things can go back to normal. A new normal where we communicate our needs, equally express our love in ways that the other person craves, and where I have ceased to worship sex as the only thing that can make me feel valued or satisfied.

1 comment:

  1. I understand what you are doing and why. I felt the same way at times. Do YOU understand your reasons for doing this? Have you seriously evaluated your true reasons to make sure there is no hidden agenda behind your motivation? I'm not saying that your reasons are not valid; just make sure the reasons are valid in the eyes of your Heavenly Father. If I had done this with my wife (which I was sorely tempted to do), she would definitely have wondered if I was angry and/or (more likely) was trying to punish her for some reason. Even with explanations, she still would have been hurt.

    You're stuck between a small rock and a bigger rock (forget the hard place). On the one hand there are your wife's feelings to consider. On the other hand, there are your feelings to consider. During my recovery, something that I had to realize, but still had problems realizing, was that it was my actions that caused the entire problem in the first place AND that even if she was being a bit (or a lot) unreasonable with some of her feelings, I was the major cause of that unreasonableness. Intellectually I knew this to be true, but my pride kept getting in the way.

    The tendency is to wonder, "Well, what about my feelings? Don’t they matter?" I found this to be true of myself, especially if I thought she was being unreasonable. She liked to point out to me that I was the one who was a liar (very true) and that she had to work through her feelings. The hurt wasn’t going to go away overnight (it didn’t). Many times I realized I simply had to just shut up and take it; my feelings really didn’t matter until she worked through her feelings. This was difficult and there were times I didn't shut up. However, I knew I simply had to accept the consequences of my addiction.

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