Sync-y Sex
picture by thegrocer*
Yes, I know how stupid the title sounds. No, it’s not a typo. It’s meant to be sync-y, not kinky. Here, let me explain….
It’s probably rather voyeuristic of me, but I recently discovered a network of married men blogging about married/monogamous sex (or the lack thereof). I am always amazed, and a little bit appalled, by the male point of view on sex; about the necessary frequency and variety of it, and about their desperation during the droughts in between.
Sexuality is a major aspect of being human. It would be remiss of me to blog about humanist personal growth and never talk about sex. I’m just waiting for the day the principal of my kids’ school discovers this blog and reads this entry - it’s bound to happen. But hey, we’re all human, and at least it’s not a religious school (’cos y’all will know where I stand on that issue).
I hope my dear hubby will forgive me for blogging on this subject but, like all couples, we’ve had our ups and downs in the intimacy department. We’ve even sought counselling at times. He’s a very wise and patient man, my husband, and I’m not going to embarrass him by sharing details of the history of our sexual relationship. I mean, really, there will never be a marriage that doesn’t encounter periods of mis-matched libido, changing tastes in the sensual, or extended spells of sheer physical and emotional exhaustion. Hands up if you have kids. Even if you don’t, most people have a day job to suck all the vitality out of them.
I don’t subscribe to the idea that the frequency with which other couples are doing it has any reflection on the health of my own relationship. It’s simply not on my radar. A: who cares what other people do in the privacy of their bedrooms or living rooms, or cars, or whatever? (… well, maybe I am just a little curious, but please, no pictures!) And B: I find the practice of keeping a log on such events a major, MAJOR, turn off.
Surely keeping the physical spark in a monogamous relationship is about empathy? It’s about understanding where your partner is at; about acknowledging where you’re at yourself; and then addressing the space in between?
Which, for a heterosexual man, to be more direct about it, means keeping track of his woman’s menstrual cycle, and going with the flow of her sexual receptivity during the first two weeks of her cycle, and then easing off and giving her room to breathe for the rest of the month. Really guys, let go of this twice-a-week or every-second-day attitude and trust that she’ll initiate it if she really wants it. There is nothing new about this concept. It is the wisdom of ages. But for those of whom this is new information, here’s a neat little article that explains it in its simplest terms (so the blokes can understand).
There is, of course, a biological purpose to the fluctuating desire woman experience during their menstrual cycle, which is, of course, to guarantee the survival of the human race, which does, of course, require … you guessed it - sexual intercourse. Husbands and partners can choose to work with the menstrual cycle, or be foolish, and probably damned frustrated, to work against it.
My dear husband has gone the technological route and downloaded an app for his Blackberry that keeps track of my menstrual cycle and guides him in demonstrating his love and desire for me. At first, I was leery, even offended, that some slip of a software program could possibly enhance our love life. But since I don’t chart my cycles on a calendar, and since I don’t have any visible code that communicates where my cycle is at, what choice did the poor man have? Now I see the value in this slip of a software program telling him where I’m at, physically and emotionally, and I blush to share that we’re in better sync than we’ve ever been.
March 25th, 2010 - Posted in happiness, partnership, play, beliefs, love, wisdom, health, self-care | | 4 Comments
On edge
picture by darkmatter
This post was partly inspired by an entry on Ali Clifford’s photographic blog Twenty-Ten when she featured a candid portrait of her mother. I was moved by the image and by the title: she brought me here. If only my feelings for my mother were so pure and so simple.
My mother has come to stay. She arrived yesterday and will be with us for three weeks while the hubby is away on a business trip. I love her dearly, but there is … history … and much that goes unspoken between us. I have tried to discuss said history with my mother. Many times. But she cannot bear the confrontation. Either she shuts down, or she blows up. And neither situation is easy to endure. Especially for three weeks under one roof.
So here we are on day one and already I need an outlet for my frustration. How can one person push so many of my buttons at once? I’ve done a lot of work, a lot of healing, over the past six or seven years and I truly thought I was at peace with the past. I truly thought I had let go of Mum and all her petty stuff. I had evolved enough to have her come and stay for longer than we’ve spent together since I was a teenager coming home for uni holidays. I truly thought I was now above it all. And as far as she is aware, I am.
Oh, but what would I give for her to be different to who she is! What if she was relaxed and open and able to talk about anything with me? What if she could rationalise her experiences and trust her memories and express her love freely? What if she could be free from pain and relieved of the weight of her anxiety and depression? What would she be like then?
But it is futile to wish her different. She is who she is. Our relationship is what it is. The only aspect of this situation I control is my own. So I will try, very hard, to have a pleasant three weeks with my mother, to give her happy memories with her grandchildren, to avoid any conflict or unpleasantness that may arise, to keep building the precarious bridge between her world and mine.
But it won’t take much to push me over the edge.
February 10th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, nostalgia, grandparents, grief, love, self-care | | 3 Comments
The ties that bind
picture by quasimondo
Bo-nen-kai is the usual end of year gathering for all Japanese - whether it be with their work-mates, fellow students or friends - rather the same as we do here. It’s not traditionally a Xmas gathering, as Xmas isn’t celebrated in the buddhist and shinto religious traditions. But there are still trees and lights and baubles galore, because the Japanese love gift-giving, and so, they have adopted Xmas into their culture - and their traditional New Year cards are somehow ‘christmasified’ to acknowledge the festive season.
I’ll admit, I rarely do Xmas cards, and I tend to be a bit ‘bah humbug’ when it comes to receiving them, too. But the card that always raises a smile from this Scrooge is the one that, without fail, has arrived from Tokyo every Xmas/New Year for the past twelve years from my class at the U-Port adult education centre where I taught for two years. I am truly touched and, I confess, surprised that so many of them still gather for bonenkai every year and to sign a newsy greeting card especially for me.
How lovely to learn that Itsuyo’s daughter just got married! I remember how I used to tutor him and his wife every Saturday and share a Japanese lunch, often something I’d never tasted before. Back then his daughter was a ballet dancing high school student.
Shigemi, in the past year, has travelled to China twice, as well as Canada, Germany, Indonesia - a new travel record for him (must be work related).
Sayo, the seasoned traveller, goes somewhere challenging every year - this time to the Ukraine.
Hiroko, who speaks fluent French, asks about my life in the country and Shizuko, who is a new mother, is probably too busy for English lessons now. But for having been their teacher for two short years, the remarkable connection remains.
In fact, Shizuko and her friends (and husband to be) were in Australia for their Millenium Party, when I was pregnant with my first baby, now almost ten. And we met again when she came back to Australia to study glass blowing at The Jam Factory in Adelaide, and, complete with her Blue Bear costume, she helped my husband and I celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. By then the baby in my belly was a toddler with a baby sister to boot.
I know I simply must go back to Tokyo and visit them, and it’s looking like I may have an opportunity in April next year, around my fortieth birthday. It will have been ten years since I was last in Japan and I’m looking forward to it like a child looks forward to Xmas. It’s so wonderful to know my old U-Port class will come out and visit me then. I can’t wait to see them and thank them for all the smiles and wonderful memories they’ve given me from a humble Xmas card.
December 23rd, 2009 - Posted in gratitude, happiness, nostalgia, community, ritual, love, friendship | | 0 Comments
Couple nostalgia
picture by Jesse Draper
Hubby and I missed an important milestone when we did the math and figured ourselves to have been together for longer than we’d been apart. That means we’ve more experiences in common than we do separately, which gives us a lot to reminisce about.
What brings couples together may not be what keeps them together. I’ve plenty of theories on what makes my own relationship work, but confess I’m completely without insight into the dynamics of other couples. For us, we got together so young, we had such enormous influence on each others’ personal development. I really can’t imagine what my life, my outlook, would have become without that influence. All the major achievements in my life have been the result of his support and encouragement - including starting our family. He showed me how to think big(ger) and keep all the moving parts in clear focus. He also has a way of maintaining perspective that has rubbed off on me in such ways that I still thank him for singlehandedly breaking me out of an unproductive emotional cycle that could have, given my family history, tipped me over the edge into chronic depression.
And while he has the innate ability to think big, I have the innate ability to bring everything back to its source. Hubby freely admits that, had he not met me, he’d have pursued that high-flying career with all the economic trappings that I despise so much. It has created a quality life, rather than one of quantity (though we certainly have more than we need), in which we aim to reduce our footprint and engage with our local community with consideration for our children’s future.
Even though our very different attributes have had a positive influence on each other, it’s the likenesses that bond us on a daily basis. We observe our children and their foibles. We laugh at the same jokes and appreciate a similar aesthetic. We come from similar family backgrounds and value similar things. I am profoundly grateful.
But is that what has kept us together as a couple for so many years? I really can’t say so. When I look at the photo albums on our shelf and the random collection of objects in our home, so much ’stuff’ with significant memories attached, I wonder if we have created an environment together that serves as a regular reminder of the good times? Our separate lives have merged into one shared life that is greater than the sum of its parts.
Ah, but all couples do that, right? Maybe. But perhaps it is the preservation of the separate and unique aspects of ourselves that keeps us interested in each other and our respective points of view? I don’t know. There is a small part of me that doesn’t want to know ‘why it works’. Is it possible that accepting and preserving that tiny component of interpersonal mystery is what keeps us intrigued by each other?
October 3rd, 2009 - Posted in gratitude, partnership, nostalgia, ritual, beliefs, love, friendship | | 1 Comments
If my child is gay
picture by Daniel Greene
“No problem at all! My child is still the same little person I gave birth to and raised with love. Why would his or her sexuality matter to me?”
I’d be lying if I didn’t say it scares me that we may have a child who is gay or lesbian. Culturally and socially, we are still coming to terms with homosexuality being visible and normal in our community. Homophobia prevails. No parent wants their child to be subject to discrimination and violence out in the big, bad world; no parent wants their child to feel isolated or lonely or struggle with being different to the majority in their community. I grew up in a country town. I know what the teenage suicide rate is all about.
And it terrifies me to think that a child of mine could one day be exposed to sexually transmitted diseases such as HIV and AIDS. Not that heterosexuals have immunity, but of all the new HIV diagnoses in 2007, 86% were young, male and homosexual. I don’t want my relationship with my child to become one of me nagging about sexual behaviour when we have worked so hard to empower our kids and avoid passing our own fears onto them. I suppose it’s a matter of starting sex education early, some frank conversation and rather a lot of trust.
And I’ll admit, it breaks my heart that traditional marriage and children might not be in their future; not that heterosexual couples don’t choose childlessness, and not that reproductive technology and our concept of family isn’t always being redefined. We’ve conscientiously eradicated stereotypes in our family, but how is it I can still hope their branch of the family tree will continue to grow? I know I shouldn’t impose my hopes and dreams on my children, but still….
What if I suspect my child is gay when he or she is still unaware of any relative difference between self and majority? And what if I happen to mention my suspicions to another - am I crossing a line? OMG, and here I am blogging about it! Will others treat my child differently? And what if I’m wrong?
At least being wrong has to be better than being in denial.
I don’t want any child of mine to struggle with identity - beyond the normal teenage angst I feel I had myself anyway. And I certainly can’t say I never struggled with identity, or sexuality for that matter! The one thing I can do here and now is cultivate a supportive home and community where heterosexist language, jokes and media are not tolerated. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the absence of gay role models in our immediate family. That’s a difficult problem to address.
Whether my child is homosexual or not, there is little I can do to affect any of it. It wouldn’t directly affect my relationship with my child. Their being gay is a reflection of who they are, and no reflection whatsoever, of who I am. There are many dimensions to our humanity. Sexuality is but one.
July 17th, 2009 - Posted in personal growth, happiness, childhood, parenthood, community, grief, beliefs, love, health | | 3 Comments
