Why not have your wife become one of those “pretty women”?
in response to
I do my best to control my manic behavior, especially when it has to do with yelling at my family or getting a little too comfortable with pretty women.
Bipoblogger has opened a can of worms, or a puzzle. My wife’s and my sex life has always been a puzzle to me. We were each others’ first love. We dated at 15 and 16 and then saw other people. I was just a horny teenage kid with religious hangups with intercourse. We fooled around, but I just couldn’t do the deed. I was a very selfish lover as most teenage boys are,but I don’t think she minded all that much.
When we broke up and saw other people, I remained a virgin. I didn’t want to, but the guilt I’d been taught about it held me back. My wife, on the other hand, was free as a bird and had multiple partners including my twin brother and my best friend. That still hurts a little today. There was revenge involved. Our breakup was rough.
When we got back together in college, things were different. We got engaged, and I let down my moral guard a little. I lost my virginity to her. But soon after, my moral hangups kicked in. That changed my wife. My guilt and moralism made her feel dirty. That set the stage for a disastrous sex life. We didn’t have sex on our honeymoon. We’ve only had sex a few dozen times. 100 at most in 21 years. She would deny that, but it’s true. I had more sex in my brief period of infidelity than I’d had in years. And the best sex I’d ever had. Animal. No relationship complexities.
I had no idea how to woo her or seduce her or get her going. I just wasn’t that great at it. And neither was she. She thought she was good because when you’re a girl having sex with horny teenage boys, you’re amazing. You don’t have to be good at it. I tried my best to learn how to be better. Videos, books, trial and error. But she refused to learn. Sometimes I would show her what I wanted. She would get defense and would hold out on me. It’s a mess.
When I became hyper-sexual, things improved. I didn’t have to think about what to do, I just knew what to do. I became passionate, and she responded. We went from having sex a few times a year to a few times a month, which seemed like a huge step in the right direction. For the first time, we were happy with our sex life.
Then I had a break down. I slept with a lot of women in a short time and she found out. I began treatment, the hypersexuality went away, and so did our sex life. I shut down, sexually; a combination of medicine and fear. I was afraid to open up because of what had happened. We have a lot of healing to do.
And so when Bipoblogger suggests that I turn my “pretty woman” charms toward my wife, it’s tricky. My wife was attracted to me because I was funny (haha funny and quirky funny). I was passionate about living and I was smart, but I wasn’t manly. I was an intellectual and a little effeminate. Until bipolar, I had the sex appeal of a Mr. Rogers. My charms as a hypersexual bipolar, if applied to her, would only remind her of me with other women. So I’m stuck with the classic “hubby” playbook. I woo her with doing chores, pay the bills, bringing her wine and ice cream, rubbing her feet and back…all of which lead to cuddling. I’ve come to like cuddling, but I don’t know how to solve the sex puzzle.
I think my wife is over the whole moralism thing on some level, but the damage may be permanent; both with our beginnings but also my affairs. I know she wants to have a sex life with me. And I know she feels guilty about it. I’m patient. I assure her that it’s ok, and that we will get it together when the kids move out. We do better in hotels, and when she is intoxicated a little. We’re hoping that will transfer to an empty nest.