I was a loyal wife. Even though my needs weren’t being fulfilled in my marriage, I never dreamed of cheating on Mars… even when my sex drive started dramatically increasing at age 38. During our two-year dry spell (not by my choice), I told him I was unhappy and that we needed to go to marriage counseling.
We did. Two months into counseling, there was no change. During a particularly horny phase, I approached him and told him that if he wasn’t going to give it up I would have to find intimacy elsewhere. I explained that I didn’t know how to fulfill these needs with someone else – logistically or otherwise – but that my needs were borderline painful and I was going to pursue them some way, somehow.
I was married, dammit. If I couldn’t have sex with my husband, who could I have sex with?!
He eventually gave it up… but it was short-lived. We went through heavenly phases of sexual activity every 4-5 months or so but they never lasted more than a couple weeks. I was always the one initiating and, sometimes, insisting. My self-esteem suffered. He was content simply not having sex. But it was more than that. We had grown apart so much that we couldn’t relate to each other anymore. He refused to touch me, even on the arm. He didn’t “see” me and never noticed when I got my hair cut, wore a new outfit, or lost weight. I felt lonely, ignored, and invisible.
We continued this way, still in marriage counseling, with little to no change for another 4 years. We approached the topic of separation a few times but couldn’t get past the idea of sharing our two young kids 50/50.
Finally, in early August, we called it off for good. The final straw was him admitting he was never really trying to save the marriage. He thought it was futile from the start.
I was deeply hurt and a little angry. However, I was relieved the truth was finally out there. I think I knew it on a subconscious level but didn’t want to admit it to myself.
The night we called it off, I told him I was going to start dating immediately.
Beginning as early as the next day, I started noticing gorgeous men everywhere. On the streets of San Francisco. In Trader Joe’s. At the kids’ school. In restaurants. Even at work!
There were more good looking men per capita than I saw in Geneva, June 1995 or even London, August 2013. I was now in a different dimension. These attractive men had always been here, I just hadn’t noticed them.
My marriage goggles were now off. And I felt like a kid in a candy store with an unlimited budget.