It has taken me some time to want to write about this, but I think it is time.
I do seem to have a history of choosing the wrong men for myself. I have been married twice, and have done a fair amount of dating before and after becoming single. Other than the two that I married, I actually became quite interested in another man. I did not think it was possible.
I really liked him…. he wasn’t the best looking or anything like that, but he has something that I personally find really attractive; he is really smart. I found that we had some of the best conversations of my adult dating life.
Sadly, I used to save some of his voice messages because just hearing his voice made me feel happy and excited. Quite a bit younger than me, well, less than 10 years, the relationship included so many elements of enjoyment that I actually found myself thinking that there might be long term relationship happiness for me again.
The pin in my balloon came when I decided it was time to allow a physical relationship to happen. We had spent so many hours talking and enjoying each other’s company, that it just seemed natural to go beyond the kissing and hugging. I needed to take this one slow, as I really saw potential here. We spoke about a future, and he seemed very comfortable with my pace. He knew I had children, and a bad second marriage, so I had no desire to involve any man in their lives until this person might stick around for a bit. I felt that I had already hurt them with my second marriage. Their “step-father” promised to be there, and to love them, and we know how that ended up. Once your children see you with a bloody mouth, it can make you hesitant to not only get involved again, but to ever allow any one else to get close to, or even meet your children.
I thought this was different.
We made our date… We had a lovely dinner, and it was clear that this evening was going to end differently than any other for us. Dealing with my own anxiety and body issues as so many of us do, I had a couple of cocktails, and we went back to his place. Everything was going really well, and I felt extraordinarily comfortable. I even felt beautiful because that is the way he always made me feel.
Then it happened…
He gently yells “Stop” and pushes me off of him.
At this point, I clearly let him know that not only am I 48, but that I had my tubes tied years ago.
B O O M …. just as simple as that!
He told me that “It wasn’t that”, he had just “never finished inside a woman before”. He was saving himself for marriage. Feeling like I was in some modern version of the Twilight Zone, I asked him for a bit of clarification. So, you have been engaged before, and you have dated, and you are a man in your 40’s for goodness sakes. WTF is going on here.
Clearly in my mind, I knew that this was over. I had told him in no uncertain terms that I was never going to marry again, his behavior was dishonest. I high tailed it out of there as quickly as I could get my panties on. I think I stuffed my bra in my pocket book, and dressed as if there was a fire…. and no kidding, there seemed to be a fire burning in my temples. He walked me downstairs. Well, I ran, he chased. He could not understand why I was so upset. I told him that I needed to leave and we agreed to speak the next day.
Crying all the way home, I was greatly relieved that my daughter who occupies my bed with me on most nights was at a sleepover, and my son was sleeping.
I picked up my notebook, and tried to find the reasons for my upset through some sort of logic, and when I was satisfied I went to bed, and this is what I shared with him the next day. I explained to him that if I was not worthy of him completing the act, then in my mind, the whole act was metaphorical for the prostitute who won’t kiss her John because this isn’t the real deal. Because there was no satisfaction and no completion, somehow, my worthiness was an issue for me. I wasn’t worthy; I wasn’t ever going to be his wife. I felt dirty. I felt that he was a hypocrite. I asked if there was any miscalculated application of some religious principle that he was applying, and he said “No, this is just what I have always done”. He cried, I cried, and it was over. There was no way to reconcile the difference. He was a rock. He wanted me to reconsider the idea of marriage, but in my mind, again, I was in a position where I wasn’t worthy. Even if I was ever to rethink my position, he wouldn’t, so we were done.
My first husband would not go to therapy, though he knew that it was the price that he needed to pay to save the marriage. To him, it reminded him of the mental illness in the family, and doing so was an admission that maybe he had some issues as well.
Again, I was unworthy.
Time passed, I cried to BFF. We talked and talked and talked and talked until, I fear that she did not know how to make me feel better, so instead of talking, she just listened. I love her 🙂
Curious, however, about what happened, I reached out to a friend of mine who is a psychologist. Convinced that I “dodged a bullet”, as he put it, he claimed that men who hold back sexual satisfaction from women have many issues:
Here are the notes that I took from our conversation:
In all honesty…..I would have a serious talk with that man…especially if it was at the expense of the relationship.
Male ejaculation with held. can also been correlated with showing dominance in a relationship. A superiority statement. Like the big gorilla slamming his chest. The man can make you cum but you cant force him to cum.
For some women that is a big problem. It can leave them feeling undesired, not good enough and actually not in an egalitarian relationship.
The women want her man to cum…some even like it on them, in them, or whatever….
Its like a tease…in a sexual relationship…..not good
Somehow validated by his long distance diagnosis, I willed myself to move on. Somehow, I cannot bring myself to delete the last voice mail that I saved. “Hey, it’s me…”.
I really liked him. So sad… But I am not prepared to walk that path of allowing someone to control or inflict emotional pain. Been there, done that, one too many times.