I used to love having sex. I couldn’t wait to marry my husband so I could boink him at every possible opportunity, and I did. Then life interfered.
We moved away from family and friends. My career took a nosedive. My husband didn’t agree with everything I said. Children arrived. Sleep departed. Fatigue set in. The dog barked. My body sagged. My sex drive evaporated, and suddenly I lay in bed one night and couldn’t remember the last time we…you know. It had been six months, at least.
In desperation, I tried to work up the energy to go through the motions, but I’d fallen so far off the bandwagon that it was embarrassing and uncomfortable to climb back on. Not only that, I used to feel cute and sexy. Now I felt matronly and invisible.
For a while, I blamed my husband. If he paid as much attention to me as he did to his job or the kids, I’d feel special and desirable again. As usual, I was wrong. It was easy to pin the blame on him, but I was the only one who knew what made me happy.
As silly as it sounds, I stopped telling myself who I should be and started listening to the real me. I always wanted to be a writer, so I endeavored to write my first romance novel. I love taking pictures, so I picked up a digital camera and looked at life through the lens. Not surprisingly, as soon as I immersed myself in the activities I loved, my happiness skyrocketed. Reinvigorated, I revamped my diet and felt significantly better. Most importantly, I finally believed my husband when he said that he liked the way I looked. Granted, I didn’t look as good as I did when I was twenty-six, but neither does my husband and I still find him attractive.
One night, as I lay in bed thinking about all the sex we used to have, I reached over and grabbed my guy. To my infinite relief, he grabbed me right back. The sex felt great; but it had an interesting side effect. We felt closer than we had in years. We touched each other more, laughed more, and flirted more. Good days were great, and bad days were cushioned by what we could look forward to in the bedroom.
Am I the only mom who fell off the bandwagon? Let’s take back our sex lives, because sex isn’t just for newlyweds and supermodels. It’s for tired parents who smell like peanut butter and baby powder. It’s for middle-aged folks with jiggly bellies and hair in weird places. It’s for people who want to get as close as possible to someone else, so why not have sex with your husband? I have a feeling you’ll both be glad you did.