There is no concise way to begin this other than with an “It happened,” and that was that kind of attitude. It wasn’t some awe-inspiring moment or a long time fantasy come to fruition. Instead, it was something more ridiculous and frankly quite distressing. It was a desperate attempt to save my marriage. I’m not embarrassed by it, or ashamed. It’s just what a wife did.
Now I know you’re th/inking, “How could that save your marriage?” Shit! I don’t know! I was struggling and clearly it did nothing worthwhile, as I am divorced for a compounding set of problems yet still I tried it all. But let’s dip into why that moment was even brought into being. My ex-husband and I started dating at 16 off and on until about two years after my daughter was born, and we moved in together. I thought we were in a serious relationship. He was just seriously about himself.
He slept with whomever he felt like and stayed out late. So late sometimes in fact that I would have to take the bus to work instead of driving my car. Now as a consequence of having a man who is a cheater and women who will do whatever, whenever, I naturally remained quite undesirable to my husband. He, in my mind, had insane expectations of me. I worked full-time, went to school full-time, took care of the kids, and was expected to cook, clean and fuck like a porn-star at any random hour all while maintaining a certain weight and physical appearance. Now I’m sure there are women who do these things like it’s no big deal, but even if you maintain it for a while you have no choice but to remove caring for yourself out of the equation.
It also isn’t a big deal if you have help when you need it, and that help doesn’t come at the cost of who you are being degraded for having the audacity to actually need help. Most importantly if you are loved. As a woman being loved can give you the energy to burn and rebuild Rome in a day, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t loved, I wasn’t appreciated. Hell, I wasn’t even wanted. I have come to accept that I was just convenient.
How does one accept being convenient? Well to add to my misery I was in an abusive relationship, as part of that cycle I spent countless hours trying to make me better so maybe he wouldn’t hit me, maybe he wouldn’t talk down to me, and maybe he would stop cheating. I felt I owed it to my children to have their father in their lives and a little misery for me was okay if they could have a lot of daddy.
So where does this threesome come in? Well, he asked for it, repeatedly. After I caught him getting fellatio in a car parked just blocks from our house I had to accept that I wasn’t mentally prepared to leave him and the disrespect. I decided it couldn’t get much worse, and maybe this would be worth a try. It was one of my dying relationships last wishes.
I don’t remember the exact date or the details. All I can tell you is it isn’t all that bad, and an extra vagina won’t save your relationship. We were no more and no less in love after the fact. Nothing much changed. I came to better understand that I held no real value in my relationship. I truly believe that a man who loves his wife would not have any desire to share her with anyone, for any amount of potential pleasure or bragging rights. There’s an inherent selflessness and also a selfishness in love. As a result, I continued to withdraw and he continued to be himself. For a period of time he even treated me as though he was suspicious of me and whether or not I was cheating on him with a woman. I have come to understand that he was probably mirroring his own behaviors on me (what shrinks call “Projection”). Eventually, I withdrew completely from sexual encounters just from a lack of emotional attachment. I no longer desired the man that I chose to be with because he had no love or respect for me as a woman. I was tired, depressed, alone, and a side-chick in my own marriage.
I still made attempts to perform my wifely duties when called upon, but my vagina lacked lubrication, and my heart was long gone behind the wall I’d built. In an attempt to correct my bodies behavior I sought out various options. Store bought lube only helped briefly during an encounter, and I had long since forgotten the rush of a sexual encounter. I accepted that he was going to cheat, and I was going to pretend not to care. Eventually I started seeing a physician, who referred me to a sex therapist, whom I still see to this day, that helped me realize my problem was not physiological, but psychological.
Years later after the divorce, and counseling, around the abuse, and other issues, all I can say is that my mind and body are in a better place. My vagina? Well it works… all too well some days; In fact, when it should be minding its own business! I have come to terms with who I am, why I accepted less than what I should have, and why I have struggled with settling. I have learned to expect more from my partners and also believe that I am worth everything that I feel I deserve. I have become more discerning with where and with whom I invest my time. I am no longer afraid to walk away from any situation or individual that merits me doing so. Should I ever be married again would I go to any lengths to save my marriage? Yes, but in a completely different manner, I would cross the earth and back on my knees in prayer.
Originally published 11/9/16