On sex...

Ugh… I don’t want or need to talk about this, but it just keeps bothering me, so here it is.

I won’t be offended if any of you would rather not read this; there will be no end-of-section quiz and this section will not be included in the final exams, so you can just ignore it if you are as underwhelmed by sex as I.


Ok, that’s clumsy wording, sex in itself doesn’t underwhelm me. When I’m having sex, I do very much enjoy it… but equally it’s of little consequence if I’m not. And for the last ten years, I have not.

I don’t quite know why… well, I guess I do really… it’s mostly the fact that he isn’t the man I chose to be with for the rest of my life. Having committed to only have sex with that one person forever and without the closure of either death or divorce, the few times we tried I felt awkward and adulterous, thus decided it wasn’t for me. It was also a logistical nightmare I really don’t want to go into here…

So we just stopped trying.

And that really didn’t bother me until the age-panic that came of my last birthday.

Reaching the age of “May as well be forty” in March (really, the numbers may as well jump right from 37 to 40, because 38/39 are scary as hell!!) I stumbled across an article in one of the magazines I write for in which it claimed that women have their best sex in their thirties. This wasn’t the first time I had heard this and I don’t know about you, but hearing something from a second (or third) source is more potent than the first. Pretty much because as I faced up to my forties, I realised I had yet to have sex at all in my thirties; thus had missed the best sex of my life…

My best friend in all the world told me that in the circumstance I am, sleeping with someone else would be acceptable… I disagreed. To my mind, cheating is never acceptable however you try to justify it, yet it seems she is not the only person to think this way. Since I started to talk about this, there have been many people who have said the same. And as his condition deepens and the hub’s accusations get stronger, I’ll admit there are times I almost think if the worst is thought of me anyway I might just as well.
The defining point, though, quite aside from that I could never act in such a way, is that were I to give in now it makes a mockery of the sacrifice thus far.


I should say, though, that were I to proclaim any desire to recreate a sexlife for myself, it is not the formal act itself I miss most. There are parts of sex I do very much miss, mostly just the aspect of just being held by another person. Prior to the accident, hub and I would just lay silently in one another’s arms on the sofa watching the TV, listening to music or reading and it was this contact I most missed in the early days. In fact, I remember once bumping into one of his work colleagues a week or two into hub’s hospital stay and he greeted me with a perfectly normal hug; nothing odd in that at all, I hug friends without any subtext… just that when he held me, I suddenly realised how much I had missed the touch of an adult. I clung to him for an age, unwilling to end the moment – I guess because I didn’t know when I might get another chance.

That is what I miss now. Just to have someone hold me, that feeling of safety and assurance that everything will be alright. In fact I found myself texting a friend just yesterday telling him I really needed some man-cuddles; again with no subtext – he is very happily engaged to a wonderful girl… he’s been an amazing friend and we have shared many hugs over the years, along with a few unspoken moments that could have become more but such is our relationship that those moments just blended into our shared history. Trouble is, although hub knows the guy, knows his fiancée and knows there are very clear boundaries between us, quite apart from his supposedly after more than twenty years together knowing my own morals and ethics I will possibly still end up lying about where I am going. But don’t judge me on that. Just because I am lying, does not necessarily mean I am hiding anything.

This is where things are getting difficult too; I don’t believe in lying about what I am doing, but it is necessary in lots of ways.

Another example: A few weeks ago, I went to the theatre to watch the brilliant Alex Horne. A few weeks before, I had gone alone to watch someone else. I was quite open and honest about it; told him where I was going, he asked who with and I told him no-one. I made the usual arrangements to go out, made sure he was looked after and that the kids were sorted out before I left, then not only did I receive a tirade of accusation as to who I might actually have gone with, but I discovered he had quizzed the girls in my absence and told them I was clearly having an affair! So the second opportunity I had, I went alone but told him I was headed to my best friend’s house. He didn’t question this, although did of course throw up the usual complaint of how I should feel grateful I could go out at all and that my life is blessed etc…


But anyway, I am drifting so far from the point… it’s late and I really should consider trying to sleep!