Longtime lurker, a year or more. Registered months ago but never posted. I suppose now is as good a time as any, even if only for my own catharsis.
I don't consider myself particularly HD, but I want a more fulfilling sex life with my wife.
Fulfilling I suppose is necessarily individual and subjective. To me, it means more frequent, more spontaneous, more variety, more initiation by her.
I'm starting to think initiation is never in the eye of the beholder. As a man, I think of it as the beginning – an unveiled overture that cannot be mistaken for anything else. She probably doesn't see it that way which perhaps explains why she thinks she initiates more than I give credit for. For her, it could be a look, a casual touch when putting away dishes, a smile of contentment when I help the little kids brush their teeth at night or make them laugh themselves silly for no reason at all, a touch of hands on the wine glass I hand her after the kids are upstairs and finally quiet.
Maybe I miss the signs that she's approachable and interested. Maybe I discount the subtle clues to avoid the possibility of rejection and its concomitant disappointment. Maybe I intentionally ignore them in the hopes she feels a little bit of the shame and hurt that comes with rejection; "How do you like them apples" remains unspoken. Resentment sucks and I hate myself for having it. Men should not be gun-shy, but it's easier said than done.
I've read NMMNG. I don't think I am one, with the possible exception of covert contracts.
I'm late thirties, fit but not a Spartan, professional degree, 1%-er, hard worker, secure finances for the future, nice house in a nice place but not a palace, nice cars, club memberships, cool vacations every few months. I take care of my family, coach my kids in sports, have male friends and get out with them to do male things.
I feel like I take care of my wife, a SAHM. She gets time off for pampering, I get her thoughtful gifts because I like to see the way her eyes light up. I try to randomly surprise her with things. She works her butt off with 3 kids under 8, 2 schools, room mom, team mom, volunteerism in general. I know she's tired and I know the logistics can be overwhelming. I help her when I can and she has help at home – a weekly maid who also does the laundry and puts it away. We go on date nights. She has babysitters available always if she wants them, even if only for a few hours so she can get her hair done.
I've read HNHN. I asked her to read it as well but she hasn't. Too busy or uninterested I suppose. The last time I asked her was after another talk. You know the one (see the 3rd paragraph above). I'm tired of asking and I'm tired of having the talk.
I'm pretty confident she's intimate conversation and affection without the expectation of sex. I'd give myself a B on the former and a C on the latter, but I'm trying and want to be better. Resentment makes it hard to improve on that C. She's also big on acts of service and security. I feel like I'm doing pretty well in those departments. Not that it translates into what I most desire and don't get, or at least don't get enough of for me.
EA/PA? No, not by me. And I'm as confident as a man can be that she isn't and hasn't either. I've read the threads in CWI; I've studied and implemented Weightlifter's advice. I've watched, waited, been vigilant for a long time. There's nothing there. There's no secret passwords, no phone guarding, nothing. There are infrequent GNOs for friends birthdays and the like, but it's dinner, some wine, and home at a respectable hour. I can't say 100% no because you never can, but whatever single digit percent I would assign to it is mostly driven by my own resentment and anger.
Married 12 years. Sex life before kids? Good. Frequent. Dirty in a healthy, intimate way. Little if anything off limits, open to trying new things.
Now? Infrequently phenomenal, but usually mundane or absent. Every 10 days to 2 weeks, counting quickies and/or a HJ for me. Usually vanilla; toys and whatnot stay in the drawer. Some manual stimulation leads to PIV, missionary, and then it's over for another two weeks. Remember Flight of the Conchords and "Business Time?" It's a lot like that except for the once in a blue moon alcohol induced wildness.
I don't know what to do anymore and I'm starting to get weary of thinking about it, fretting over it. On some level I think she cares about how I feel about this subject. She would just ascribe most of my complaints to our stage of life, etc., as opposed to something serious that needs work and effort. She pays lip service to it when we talk, but there's never any action insofar as I can discern. She's right at some level about our current stage of life being hectic, but does that make my wants and needs any less valid?
How's this for a horrible thought – I can't wait for her to hit her pre-menopause drive because then I think she'll finally realize what it's like for me, the dull ache of unfulfilled need. How despicable is it that I want her to experience this hurt in the hope of getting real empathy? I effing hate myself for feeling this way.
I gather from my year of lurking that I'm preaching to the choir. I know there are other possible solutions I haven't tried. I know I can push more. I just don't want to right now, and I'm so G-D tired of trying. Hell, I don't even know why I wrote, except for the catharsis previously mentioned.
I'm not yet ready to take my ball and go home but I sure as hell don't want to play this effing game anymore either.
I don't consider myself particularly HD, but I want a more fulfilling sex life with my wife.
Fulfilling I suppose is necessarily individual and subjective. To me, it means more frequent, more spontaneous, more variety, more initiation by her.
I'm starting to think initiation is never in the eye of the beholder. As a man, I think of it as the beginning – an unveiled overture that cannot be mistaken for anything else. She probably doesn't see it that way which perhaps explains why she thinks she initiates more than I give credit for. For her, it could be a look, a casual touch when putting away dishes, a smile of contentment when I help the little kids brush their teeth at night or make them laugh themselves silly for no reason at all, a touch of hands on the wine glass I hand her after the kids are upstairs and finally quiet.
Maybe I miss the signs that she's approachable and interested. Maybe I discount the subtle clues to avoid the possibility of rejection and its concomitant disappointment. Maybe I intentionally ignore them in the hopes she feels a little bit of the shame and hurt that comes with rejection; "How do you like them apples" remains unspoken. Resentment sucks and I hate myself for having it. Men should not be gun-shy, but it's easier said than done.
I've read NMMNG. I don't think I am one, with the possible exception of covert contracts.
I'm late thirties, fit but not a Spartan, professional degree, 1%-er, hard worker, secure finances for the future, nice house in a nice place but not a palace, nice cars, club memberships, cool vacations every few months. I take care of my family, coach my kids in sports, have male friends and get out with them to do male things.
I feel like I take care of my wife, a SAHM. She gets time off for pampering, I get her thoughtful gifts because I like to see the way her eyes light up. I try to randomly surprise her with things. She works her butt off with 3 kids under 8, 2 schools, room mom, team mom, volunteerism in general. I know she's tired and I know the logistics can be overwhelming. I help her when I can and she has help at home – a weekly maid who also does the laundry and puts it away. We go on date nights. She has babysitters available always if she wants them, even if only for a few hours so she can get her hair done.
I've read HNHN. I asked her to read it as well but she hasn't. Too busy or uninterested I suppose. The last time I asked her was after another talk. You know the one (see the 3rd paragraph above). I'm tired of asking and I'm tired of having the talk.
I'm pretty confident she's intimate conversation and affection without the expectation of sex. I'd give myself a B on the former and a C on the latter, but I'm trying and want to be better. Resentment makes it hard to improve on that C. She's also big on acts of service and security. I feel like I'm doing pretty well in those departments. Not that it translates into what I most desire and don't get, or at least don't get enough of for me.
EA/PA? No, not by me. And I'm as confident as a man can be that she isn't and hasn't either. I've read the threads in CWI; I've studied and implemented Weightlifter's advice. I've watched, waited, been vigilant for a long time. There's nothing there. There's no secret passwords, no phone guarding, nothing. There are infrequent GNOs for friends birthdays and the like, but it's dinner, some wine, and home at a respectable hour. I can't say 100% no because you never can, but whatever single digit percent I would assign to it is mostly driven by my own resentment and anger.
Married 12 years. Sex life before kids? Good. Frequent. Dirty in a healthy, intimate way. Little if anything off limits, open to trying new things.
Now? Infrequently phenomenal, but usually mundane or absent. Every 10 days to 2 weeks, counting quickies and/or a HJ for me. Usually vanilla; toys and whatnot stay in the drawer. Some manual stimulation leads to PIV, missionary, and then it's over for another two weeks. Remember Flight of the Conchords and "Business Time?" It's a lot like that except for the once in a blue moon alcohol induced wildness.
I don't know what to do anymore and I'm starting to get weary of thinking about it, fretting over it. On some level I think she cares about how I feel about this subject. She would just ascribe most of my complaints to our stage of life, etc., as opposed to something serious that needs work and effort. She pays lip service to it when we talk, but there's never any action insofar as I can discern. She's right at some level about our current stage of life being hectic, but does that make my wants and needs any less valid?
How's this for a horrible thought – I can't wait for her to hit her pre-menopause drive because then I think she'll finally realize what it's like for me, the dull ache of unfulfilled need. How despicable is it that I want her to experience this hurt in the hope of getting real empathy? I effing hate myself for feeling this way.
I gather from my year of lurking that I'm preaching to the choir. I know there are other possible solutions I haven't tried. I know I can push more. I just don't want to right now, and I'm so G-D tired of trying. Hell, I don't even know why I wrote, except for the catharsis previously mentioned.
I'm not yet ready to take my ball and go home but I sure as hell don't want to play this effing game anymore either.
Put the internet to work for you.
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