Post by unmatched on Mar 29, 2016 0:22:56 GMT -5
I just linked to this in a response to another post, but then realised that it might not be there much longer. So here it is for posterity. It was originally posted by hrts in June 2012.
The Consequences Of 'enduring'. I'm posting this story here even though I no longer live in a sexless relationship, because if you are currently in one, now is the time to think about what is happening to you. Your experience will not be exactly the same as mine, but I think it's likely you are going through some of the same things I did, and it's also likely that you're not aware of what it's costing you.
'Emotions' are what you feel, but they're also what your mind uses to decide who and what you are- what you're worth, what you deserve, what you can accomplish and whether you should trust yourself or not. Emotions are more than the mood you're in, they are the original biofeedback mechanism for humans. No matter how strong or weak you were in the past, your emotions have a large influence on what you are capable of in the present and in the future. The reason I'm pointing this out is that there's more at stake than whether or not you're willing to accept another week of unresolved unhappiness.
Sometimes the stronger we are, the longer we're able to stand a situation we never should have tolerated at all.
I've always been strong, secure and grateful to be alive in this time and place I was born into. Everyone has bad times but in the perspective of history and the politics of the world, I count myself lucky. I was thrilled to be with the man I loved and I was committed to being with him for the rest of our lives. We'd been in love for years and it was the best relationship either of us had ever had. When he reacted oddly to a minor event I was concerned but I had no doubt that he would snap out of it. Instead, after a couple of months of increasingly distant behavior he told me that he loved me and he would continue to be "in here, loving you" but that he "had to" withdraw to deal with his emotions.
I trusted him completely, so even though I was confused and hurt to be excluded from his heart, I chose to be strong and hold the faith while he worked it out. I consciously chose to believe in him and I did, although trying to see things through his eyes required me to hold the possibility that I somehow deserved his indifference to my pain and loneliness. No matter how determined I was to believe the best of him, I could not prevent my emotions from reflecting the sense of wrongness I refused to give in to. It was like having an alarm bell going off in my mind all the time. It took force of will to go through the motions of pretending nothing was really wrong- like trying to carry on a normal conversation with a siren in your ear. My life was centered around our relationship, and at the center of our relationship was a hole where there used to be solid ground.
The longer it went on, the less confident I felt about everything I'd believed about my beloved and myself, and the more I avoided focusing on questions like, "How can he not know that this is hurting us? How can he love me and ignore my distress? Why doesn't he want to be close to me?" etc. The thing is, when you avoid focusing on something (like pain), it means you're tuning off your awareness of part of the world you live in, and that makes you less able to respond to it. Like any other injured animal- your pain makes you less response-able for taking care of things you'd normally notice- like the fact that where you are isn't good for you.
I saw my sadness as "just an emotion" - something I had to overcome to keep my heart open so that our love would have a safe place to return to. But my emotions were an accurate reflection of reality. It was my choice to deny them, and I paid for that choice by losing my confidence that what I felt was right. When I lost touch with my ability to interpret my emotions as true indicators of my interaction with the world, I became vulnerable to doubts of all kinds. I was insecure- fundamentally insecure- and literally incapable of thinking clearly. I kept it from showing as much as possible, but that took even more energy.
Two years later, I had lost nearly everything but my determination to hold on. I couldn't even imagine how we could recover so I'd turned off my imagination too. Unless you've been there you will naturally react exactly like I would have before it happened- with absolute disbelief that I would ever allow such a thing to happen to me. That's a healthy reaction.
Mental health is like any other kind of health- it can be abused, and you can lose it. Not listening to what your body is telling you is dangerous. We have emotions for a good reason.
When you feel lonely, it's because you have been left alone. When you feel hurt, it's because you are being hurt. When you long for intimacy you don't feel, it's because the intimacy that should be there is not. Don't tell yourself you can make do without it- you can make do without clean water too, but if you're reading this on your computer you should be able to get a drink of water when you're thirsty, and if you're living with someone who says they love you, you shouldn't have to wonder if they care that you're neglected.
Unless you and your partner agreed to be sexless before you got married, your partner is breaking the deal they made. Withholding sex is not an accidental injury. Anyone old enough to get married is old enough to imagine how it feels to be close to someone and have them reject you. Repeatedly. And pretend there's nothing that needs to be talked about or worked out.
You have the right not to be cheated out of your well-being. Your mental health is worth standing up for. Anyone who ignores the damage they're doing to your emotions will not be concerned if the damage progresses to your mental health.
Unlike many here, I consciously chose to trust my partner's assurance that he would love me even though he "had to withdraw". That was a catastrophically bad decision. Denying my own intuition brought me nothing but years of pain, ending with an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Love shows. Love always seeks love. Trust your instincts.
Let your partner know that your needs are not being met, and ask them if they will commit to taking part in meeting your needs. And if they aren't willing- believe them. Move towards mental health, whether or not they will come with you.
One more thing- probably the most important thing I can share. There is a book called Non-violent Communication, the author is Marshall Rosenberg. You can probably get it at your local library, but I recommend buying your own copy. It costs less than twenty dollars and I can't even express how useful the information in this book is for anyone in a troubled relationship. It will clarify your way of thinking and speaking, but it will also protect you from falling for the kinds of things refusers often seem to try in order to shift the blame. If your relationship has any chance at all of surviving, learning how to express your needs and hear the needs of your partner effectively without creating hostility is the single best thing you can do to protect that chance. (It's a simple concept, and you'll see the beauty of it in all kinds of relationships, but here especially it can make the difference between caring communication and fighting.)
Good luck to you. Take care of yourself.
Original link: www.experienceproject.com/stories/Live-In-A-Sexless-Marriage/2337382
The Consequences Of 'enduring'. I'm posting this story here even though I no longer live in a sexless relationship, because if you are currently in one, now is the time to think about what is happening to you. Your experience will not be exactly the same as mine, but I think it's likely you are going through some of the same things I did, and it's also likely that you're not aware of what it's costing you.
'Emotions' are what you feel, but they're also what your mind uses to decide who and what you are- what you're worth, what you deserve, what you can accomplish and whether you should trust yourself or not. Emotions are more than the mood you're in, they are the original biofeedback mechanism for humans. No matter how strong or weak you were in the past, your emotions have a large influence on what you are capable of in the present and in the future. The reason I'm pointing this out is that there's more at stake than whether or not you're willing to accept another week of unresolved unhappiness.
Sometimes the stronger we are, the longer we're able to stand a situation we never should have tolerated at all.
I've always been strong, secure and grateful to be alive in this time and place I was born into. Everyone has bad times but in the perspective of history and the politics of the world, I count myself lucky. I was thrilled to be with the man I loved and I was committed to being with him for the rest of our lives. We'd been in love for years and it was the best relationship either of us had ever had. When he reacted oddly to a minor event I was concerned but I had no doubt that he would snap out of it. Instead, after a couple of months of increasingly distant behavior he told me that he loved me and he would continue to be "in here, loving you" but that he "had to" withdraw to deal with his emotions.
I trusted him completely, so even though I was confused and hurt to be excluded from his heart, I chose to be strong and hold the faith while he worked it out. I consciously chose to believe in him and I did, although trying to see things through his eyes required me to hold the possibility that I somehow deserved his indifference to my pain and loneliness. No matter how determined I was to believe the best of him, I could not prevent my emotions from reflecting the sense of wrongness I refused to give in to. It was like having an alarm bell going off in my mind all the time. It took force of will to go through the motions of pretending nothing was really wrong- like trying to carry on a normal conversation with a siren in your ear. My life was centered around our relationship, and at the center of our relationship was a hole where there used to be solid ground.
The longer it went on, the less confident I felt about everything I'd believed about my beloved and myself, and the more I avoided focusing on questions like, "How can he not know that this is hurting us? How can he love me and ignore my distress? Why doesn't he want to be close to me?" etc. The thing is, when you avoid focusing on something (like pain), it means you're tuning off your awareness of part of the world you live in, and that makes you less able to respond to it. Like any other injured animal- your pain makes you less response-able for taking care of things you'd normally notice- like the fact that where you are isn't good for you.
I saw my sadness as "just an emotion" - something I had to overcome to keep my heart open so that our love would have a safe place to return to. But my emotions were an accurate reflection of reality. It was my choice to deny them, and I paid for that choice by losing my confidence that what I felt was right. When I lost touch with my ability to interpret my emotions as true indicators of my interaction with the world, I became vulnerable to doubts of all kinds. I was insecure- fundamentally insecure- and literally incapable of thinking clearly. I kept it from showing as much as possible, but that took even more energy.
Two years later, I had lost nearly everything but my determination to hold on. I couldn't even imagine how we could recover so I'd turned off my imagination too. Unless you've been there you will naturally react exactly like I would have before it happened- with absolute disbelief that I would ever allow such a thing to happen to me. That's a healthy reaction.
Mental health is like any other kind of health- it can be abused, and you can lose it. Not listening to what your body is telling you is dangerous. We have emotions for a good reason.
When you feel lonely, it's because you have been left alone. When you feel hurt, it's because you are being hurt. When you long for intimacy you don't feel, it's because the intimacy that should be there is not. Don't tell yourself you can make do without it- you can make do without clean water too, but if you're reading this on your computer you should be able to get a drink of water when you're thirsty, and if you're living with someone who says they love you, you shouldn't have to wonder if they care that you're neglected.
Unless you and your partner agreed to be sexless before you got married, your partner is breaking the deal they made. Withholding sex is not an accidental injury. Anyone old enough to get married is old enough to imagine how it feels to be close to someone and have them reject you. Repeatedly. And pretend there's nothing that needs to be talked about or worked out.
You have the right not to be cheated out of your well-being. Your mental health is worth standing up for. Anyone who ignores the damage they're doing to your emotions will not be concerned if the damage progresses to your mental health.
Unlike many here, I consciously chose to trust my partner's assurance that he would love me even though he "had to withdraw". That was a catastrophically bad decision. Denying my own intuition brought me nothing but years of pain, ending with an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Love shows. Love always seeks love. Trust your instincts.
Let your partner know that your needs are not being met, and ask them if they will commit to taking part in meeting your needs. And if they aren't willing- believe them. Move towards mental health, whether or not they will come with you.
One more thing- probably the most important thing I can share. There is a book called Non-violent Communication, the author is Marshall Rosenberg. You can probably get it at your local library, but I recommend buying your own copy. It costs less than twenty dollars and I can't even express how useful the information in this book is for anyone in a troubled relationship. It will clarify your way of thinking and speaking, but it will also protect you from falling for the kinds of things refusers often seem to try in order to shift the blame. If your relationship has any chance at all of surviving, learning how to express your needs and hear the needs of your partner effectively without creating hostility is the single best thing you can do to protect that chance. (It's a simple concept, and you'll see the beauty of it in all kinds of relationships, but here especially it can make the difference between caring communication and fighting.)
Good luck to you. Take care of yourself.
Original link: www.experienceproject.com/stories/Live-In-A-Sexless-Marriage/2337382
