Today I Learned . . .

Back in the old days when sex was still such a source of tension and disagreement in our marriage, I nearly always felt disconnected from Big Guy.

I wanted to be seen and known by him. I wanted to be loved as the woman I was and not considered less than the woman he seemed to think I should be.

Within my marriage, I felt hurt. Unseen. Uncherished. Unloved.

When I would try to share my feelings with him, he got defensive. So, to avoid a back-and-forth, he-said/she-said scenario, I would write him long emails or letters, desperate to be sure that I was truly known and hoping he would respond by wrapping his arms around me, apologizing, and telling me how much he loved me.

He hated getting these emails and letters from me. They always made him feel like he was failing as a husband (which I kind of thought he was). He came away wondering what it was I really wanted and concerned about whether our relationship was going to be okay.

Then came our growing years. As I worked hard to address my struggles with sex, my feelings of disconnection were replaced by the sure knowledge that my husband cared for me and loved me more deeply than I had imagined would be possible. Sex became a source of joy and connection for both of us. I no longer wrote my husband long emails to dump all my feelings out and try to force him to truly see me.

2019

So let’s fast-forward to now. It’s accurate to say that 2019 has been an incredibly difficult year for us. My husband has been without work most of this year. He worked incredibly hard to find something. He has applied for so many jobs. He’s done well in interviews, only to be told that he was second choice or that they decided to go with an internal candidate after all. I applied for jobs, too—only my resume is no longer an accurate reflection of what I can best bring to the table.

We prayed for God’s provision, and wow, did He come through. Extravagant gifts from a blog reader and from our church kept us afloat throughout the summer.

When we prayed for clarity, we got that, too. Despite our efforts to find something in our area, God cleared away every single option for us but one: to move from Wisconsin to Illinois to care for Big Guy’s father.

We now live in the very small town where my husband grew up, in a house that affords almost no privacy. Our bedroom is inches away from the chair where my father-in-law spends most of his day; our bed is close to the door. Our sex life has tanked. Between the stress we’ve been under and the lack of privacy, it has been hard for either one of us to make sex a priority—even though we know we should.

I’ve struggled to stay on top of ministry work. I have no office space—just a couple desks in common areas. (Fortunately, one of those spaces can be closed off for podcast recording.) Our kids are all still in Wisconsin, as is much of our household stuff. I have some of the empty nest sadness without either the emptiness or even the actual nest.

I’m an introvert with no space to escape to or time for myself. I’ve known people in this town for years and I am in a women’s Bible study, but I have no close friends here except for my husband. Even there, it’s hard to find a time and place to have a conversation that isn’t overheard. We have little time as a couple.

My Meltdown

Most of the time I think I’m doing okay. I’m still adjusting to the rhythms of this new life here, but what we are doing has a sense of rightness for which I am thankful. That doesn’t mean that it is easy that every single day requires me to set aside at least one thing that I had planned in order to accommodate someone else’s needs. Also, I was completely unprepared for the emotional component of what we are doing.

So this morning? I had a minor meltdown.

I’d had it.

The lack of connection with my husband had been worsening, and I almost never get a chance to replenish my emptied energy tank. Today piled a whole lot of unexpected things on me, including some things that my husband’s choices had put there.

I was feeling all those same feelings I did back in the old days.

Hurt. Unseen. Uncherished. Unloved.

Because of the difficulty in finding time and space for a private conversation between the two of us, I turned back to what I used to do. I wrote Big Guy a long email.

I battled myself. I knew he had never liked those emails from me, and I expected he would get defensive just like he used to. I was bothered that all those feelings were back and so close to the surface. What if all that work on sex was for nothing? I wondered. What if all it did was put me back in the same place where I started this journey?  I am so tired of dying to my self every day. That launched me into a whole set of questions about whether being tired of dying to self means I’m a bad Christian.

Tears flowed as I wrote. Pulling all my feelings together made me realize that I am not doing as well as I want to think I am. I questioned the wisdom of being so vulnerable with my husband. I was filled with heartache at the thought that maybe I’d been fooling myself to think that our marriage was any better now than it used to be. It certainly didn’t feel any better to me.

I finished the email and clicked on Send. I waited to her my husband’s exasperated sigh upon receiving another one of those long emails he always disliked.

His Response

His sigh never came. Instead, what I got was what I had yearned for with my emails all those years ago. My husband came to where I was sitting. He wrapped his arms around me. He apologized. He told me how much he loved me. He said words that spoke love to me.

All that work on sex had made my husband secure enough in our marriage that he could face my long email without fear about what else I really meant. He knew that I loved him and that nothing I said would affect his chances at sex. He was assured of my love, so he could respond to my message my pouring into me exactly what I needed.

I had been feeling the same old feelings, so I had assumed that I was back in the same old place.

It turned out that I was wrong.

Although 2019 has been hard, it happened on a foundation of a marriage that had grown strong during the previous decade.

My feelings were the same, but the 2019 me has learned to communicate more clearly. I am certain of my husband’s love for me, even when I don’t feel it or see it.

Some of Big Guy’s actions have been the same-but the 2019 Big Guy is assured of my love for him. His heart is open to seeing what is in my heart.

What I Learned

The past two months have been hard in ways I didn’t expect, even as they have been rewarding in ways I didn’t expect. Our marriage has been on the backburner a bit, even though we both know better.

Today was a lovely reminder that all that work I did on sex really did make a difference.

It helped me feel closer to my husband—more connected and more loved. It invited me to address wounds and weaknesses that were uncovered along the way.

It helped my husband feel closer to me—more connected and more loved. It created an environment where he felt secure enough to learn to understand me and love me.

Today I learned that having feelings that are the same as they were back in the old days does not mean that our marriage is the same as it was.

All that work I did on sex meant that today I could be vulnerable to my husband and receive exactly the response I needed.

Instead of hurt, I felt soothed. Seen. Cherished. Loved.

This year has been hard. But today? Despite my morning meltdown, it was a very good day.

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