A Single Reader Asks: Why Do Married Women Have Such a Hard Time Enjoying Sex?

I get the sweetest letters from y'all. Some letters seeking advice. Some letters sharing their story of overcoming and then coming coming coming. (twinkly-eyed Mona Lisa smile) The letter I'm going to share with you today arrived in the form of a comment. The comment is still on the post she commented on. But there are so many posts. So many comments, that I wanted to bring this one up front and center. Good stuff, darlings. Enjoy.

I'm unmarried and still a virgin (in my 30's), so perhaps I shouldn't be reading this on some puritanical level, but, well, I did.

Anyway, maybe I'll understand more fully when my desires and imaginations give way to actual reality one day if God should give me a husband - in other words, I have to admit that any reaction I have to your writings is definitely not backed up by experience. But I just hafta wonder -

Why is it that marital sex is so often painted as a difficult thing for women to enter into or enjoy? Unmarried teenager girls often cannot contain desire and the sexual opportunities presented to them, and have sex often enough - they don't go dragging their feet to their teenage lovers' sexual advances. Why is it that christian married women so often present sex as something that takes so much work for them to want or to truly enjoy?

I am so eager for the day when a man might take me completely and utterly in love for one another before the Lord. Is it really so hard in actuality? Will I really have to work on it so much or won't it just be able to be something that we rush into with joy and longing naturally, easily, with innocence and overwhelming desire and excitement?



Dear Anonymous,
Sweetheart, there is no way for me to know exactly what your first time will be like. I wish for you with all of my heart that it is a passionate beautiful orgasmic soul-affirming experience.

In answer to your question, why do married women often find it so hard to enter into and enjoy married sex when unmarried teenage girls often cannot and do not contain themselves?

Well the first thing that comes to mind as a reason is married women have such a hard time letting themselves go and abandoning themselves to marital pleasures is that when they were teenage girls they could not and did not contain themselves. The mind is a harsh judge, and the mind/body connection is strong. So often even after a woman believes God forgives her for sex that was too soon, she has a very difficult time forgiving herself and this judge in her head keeps the party in her loins from throwing all the confetti they rightfully deserve while partying with her husband.

Shannon Ethridge made a beautiful illustration of this dynamic when she was on The Today Show. She said so many women internalize the message that bad girls do and nice girls don't. So (my paraphrase here) they get off on bad girl sex. When they put that wedding ring on their finger, it may take much longer than the 5 seconds to put the wedding ring on their finger to convince their mind and heart and body that good girls do, they do it often and they do it with great pleasure that uninhibited pleasure gives them a strong bond with their husband. That's the core message of my novels, that sex doesn't have to be bad to be good. Good sex can be verrrry verrrry good. ;)

Another factor, another potential obstacle to a married woman truly entering into sweet erotic abandon with her husband is messages of shame soaked into her body by other people in her life who treated her body with disrespect or outright abuse. I've been very upfront in my story (see My Story in sidebar) and in the first year of my blog that "my first sexual experience, hell, my first era of sexual experiences, were coerced, and of a very abusive nature". These wounds left shrapnel in my heart and in my mind and through the strong mind/body connection, even in my body. For a long time, places that my abusers touched me would sound off horrid memories of shame and disgust every time that part of my body was touched again. Even when touched by my loving husband. The body/mind connection is strong. And God designed our skin to have a direct hotline to our memory. With the intended purpose to be that we are strongly bonded to our husband by the myriad of pleasurable loving safe passionate GOOD feelings we experience every time that part of our body is touched. The icky sad difficult but not impossible thing is when that part of our body is touched by an abuser and the skin/bonding/memory system built into our heart and body is activated, what we body memory bond to is bad sex, bad feelings and an unhealthy person who had NO business doing what they just did to us. The body has to unlearn. The heart has to unlearn. The mind has to unlearn. But God's healing power is strong. His desire to heal us is unflagging. So we go to safe people, receive love and prayer and therapy and we unlearn the bad stuff and learn the good stuff. It takes time.

So dear one, I had a lot of bad stuff to unlearn. Of course, the wish from my deep heart for you and for every other woman is that you don't have such horrid messages to unlearn. That you can entrust your self to the care of God and entrust your body and heart to the loving tender erotic care of your husband, unleash your feminine force on him and together have the time of your lives! That's the idea, darling!

(big smile)SW

One more thing, as a 30 year old single lady you are most welcome here. My welcome message asks that those under 18 invite their mom to come enjoy my blog or come back when they are older. Hot married sex is worth waiting for, trust me! You are over 18 and desiring healthy sex. So darlin' you are welcome to hang out here and read. I'd love to be a part of your journey toward healthy hot sex with your husband. I'd be honored!

Starlight Walk

Tonight Delighted Husband and I went for a walk around the neighborhood. It was such a pleasure to walk next to him with my hand around his arm just above his elbow. He's tall and I could tell he slowed down a bit so I didn't have to scamper to keep up with him. I enjoyed watching our feet match strides. Each of us wearing our running shoes, alike yet different. Unity in diversity. It was such a pleasure to enjoy his company. I don't know quite how to put it into words. It was just a joy to be together.

Sensuous Wife Dines Out: Key Lime Pie

When it comes to food, it's not just the flavor, it's the texture. This is never more true than with dessert. The chef at Houston's J. Alexander's knows this well, and his key lime pie is sublime. Delighted Husband and I honeymooned in the Florida Keys, so I've sampled a lot of key lime pie, and I've never had key lime pie as sublime as this Houston rendition. Did I just use the word sublime twice in one article?
Yes ma'am I did.

The plate is simple and square and curves up at the tips as though it hugs something special. Pebbles of crust sprinkled over the plate trickle from the wall of crust that shores up the placid lemony layer topped by a tower of fresh whipped cream. I touch my fork to the cream first, watch the tower fall over as lift the first bite to my eager tongue. The cream is smooth and light and velvety and barely splashed with vanilla. The pie filling is so smooth and satiny it is almost slippery in my mouth. A startling tartness! Then the faintly sweet crumbly crust that is a hybrid of pecans and graham crackers. Each of the three is delightfully well executed, but the whole is FAR greater than the sum of its parts. Gestalt dessert! Whooda thought?

Sweet Breeze on My Face

Sense of touch and hearing today went straight to my heart, my friends. Sweet breeze filtered through tall trees and touched my face while this song was playing on my phone. Enjoy.

After Glow

I'll tell you the same thing I've told all my girlfriends to whom I recommend scheduled sex and they wrinkle their nose and say "ohh but wouldn't that take all the fun out of it?"

Girls, I have walked into an evening of scheduled sex at many stages of arousal, desire, or lack thereof.
And I've never regretted it.
Ever.

I could tell you that making love regularly creates hormonal bonds with your husband, boosts self-esteem, and promotes an overall sense of well-being, ease, and satisfaction. But perhaps you'll understand it better if I tell you a little story.

It's 8:30pm and I have just been loved truly, madly, deeply and past the edge of reason. And now Boy Scouts are over and it's time to go pick up Dear Child. I groan, and stretch and peel myself out of bed. I'm looking for a little consolation prize so I decide to try on that cute little sundress that was too small the last time I tried it. It fits. Yeah, baby! This is just the boost I need. I glide out of the house pausing briefly to slip on some sandals.

I pull up to the door of the church and the scoutmaster who happens to be the pastor walks out with a smile and props his elbow on my drivers side mirror in a conversational pose.
"Wellll hellloooo!"
I give a quick little smile and beckon Dear Child into the SUV. Friendly Pastor will not be dissuaded.
"So how was date night?"
"Great!" I cannot suppress a smile.
"So where'd you go for dinner?"
I stammer, "Um, we, er, We had a picnic" I hope this is at least partially true. I think we ate something before we got busy. I could not tell you what we ate if my life depended on it.
"Ohhh a picnic! Great idea! Where'd you go?"
I feel the heat suffuse my face and know a blush is blooming over my cheeks. "Uhh, we had our picnic at home."
There is a brief tiny flash of recognition and Friendly Pastor draws back like he's been stung. He backpedals admirably with "Well thanks for letting Dear Child participate in our program! We sure had a fun time tonight!"
I smile a proper motherly smile and thank him right back. What I want to say but don't...
No problem, Rev. We wouldn't let him quit if he wanted to! We need the free babysitting!

Dear Son is hungry, so I drive him to Subway and I walk over to Starbucks to get a decaf sugarfree cinnamon dolce.
My walk becomes a saunter as I think of all the things I just did with Delighted Husband. To the casual observer, I am a thirtysomething housewife. A curvaceous soccer mom who shops at Lane Bryant. But I know I am a sex goddess. And Delighted Husband knows it too. I smile. Just feeling good in every joint of my body. I feel lithe and relaxed and absolutely gorgeous. Gorgeous is as gorgeous does. And gorgeous does. She certainly does.

I've been given so much

I've been given so much.
As I consider my life, I am astounded at the too-much grace of God.
I'm having one of those moments of clarity, y'all so please be my witnesses.
Life is good.
Life is immeasurably good because life is the gift of an immeasurably good God.
I have come to believe that the best way I can write a suitable thank you note to God is to live this life he gave me in such a way that I don't miss a morsel.
My life is filled with immeasurable sweetness.
The curly hair on my husband's head brushing my fingertips as I caress him for the millionth time.
The wind cupping my hair and cheek in a rushing caress as I race my children in a bicycle race.
The calm stately aliveness coursing through my posture as I stand erect arms outstretched chin lifted a smile hugging my face as I sing out my worship.
The pleasure on the faces of my family as I read to them.
The winking twinkle of delight in my brain as I learn something new.
The incomparable comfort of a friend's voice on the phone whether I am giving them my comfort or they are giving me theirs or both as usually happens.
The soul-deep gratitude for the afterglow of lovemaking, cherishing the feeling that for a few minutes every cell in our two bodies are lined up and doing exactly as they should be and that sweet awareness that every star and cell and planet in the world is dancing their known beautiful rhythm.
The sweet understanding that suffering will sometimes happen and that its purpose is to draw me to God, to nudge me into that sweet leaning on the everlasting arms.
The honoring humbling beautiful certainty that every choice I make counts and that I've been endowed with the power to offer beauty to the humans in my world.
Every folded towel
every lovely nourishing meal
every sharp word swallowed instead of spoken
every time my palm wraps around the cheek of someone I love, it matters. They all matter.
Every flower I coax out of the ground
every endless mess I sweep from my floor
every laundered and unshrunk outfit
every guest who feels welcomed and set free to make memories
every customer who is treated fairly and generously
every piece of paper that counted and filed and processed and administrated
every piece of jewelry selected and worn with a smile and a spring in my step
every sorrow I give to God on suffering bended knees or on fists clenched in outrage
it all matters.
Very very much.
Every phone call I do not answer so I can make love to my husband
Every phone call I answer holding the invisible hand of my girlfriend
Every hastily sent "i love u" text message
Every "bye darling" hollered as I walk out the kitchen door
Every "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Will you please forgive me?"
It all matters.
Very very much.
Every miraculous moment when the heroic grace of God bumps my mind out of the selfdestructive rut it sometimes finds itself
It matters.
And God Almighty is in every single one of these moments.

I talk alot about sex on this blog.
I talk alot about feelings and beauty and love.
Seen by itself, this blog isn't balanced.
Seen up against cnn, msnbc, foxnews and every grisly headline in every newspaper, this blog is my little pebble towards equal time and balance. When pebbles of grace outweigh boulders of despair, you know God has put his hand on the scale.

I love you all.
Thank you for reading.

You had me at hello

My friend Dena has been telling me about an awesome experience she had with Theophostic Prayer recently. Theophostic Prayer is a method of guided healing prayer where you invite Jesus to come into those dark aching places in your heart and ask him to heal you. It is very powerful and leaves you wanting everyone you care about to experience this healing and lay down their pain as well. Dena, who is one of the bravest and most generous-hearted women I know, volunteered to receive this healing prayer in a demonstration "practice session" at a conference recently. Normally, Theophostic Prayer is done in private and confidentiality, like confession or a counseling session. But Dena was willing to be the demo girl, letting people see how simple and real healing prayer can be. The way Dena tells it, "Welllllll, Jesus doesn't practice -- He showed up and did a doozy of a job on me, in front of God and everyone! Cool!"

Dena, you are one of the most brave willinghearted women I've ever heard of. I so love your passion and devotion and hunger for God. If he's handing out healing, you're the first in line and I just so love that about you. Even if that means standing in view of Man while you get that healing. Wow.

Which is what many of the hurting people in the Bible had to do. Jesus made a few house calls and one on one encounters. But so many of the dear healed ones got theirs standing in line or pressing in through a crowd. Interesting... Spirit quickly reminds me that of the few times Jesus made himself available to heal and restore one on one, it was with and for a woman. How well Jesus knows how to care for and heal our feminine hearts! I'm thinking of the woman at the well, and thinking of the sinful woman who lavished her love and repentance on Jesus washing his feet with her tears and drying his feet with her hair. By allowing this intimate act, and by offering his forgiving redeeming love to her throughout the process, Jesus let her/made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, even when the whole thing took place in front of (in the home of!) a meanspirited critical-spirited Pharisee audience. (and by the way how DID they KNOW she was a sinful woman? Any of them done any sampling? We don't know that do we?).

What we do know is it's not only safe but utterly healing and transforming to pour out our hearts and tears to Jesus because healing us, loving us forgiving us is what he had in mind all along. We don't have to sell God on healing and forgiving us. We don't have to beg him. When we come to Jesus broken, hungry, thirsty, and in need of forgiveness, Jesus word to us is "You had me at hello".

Touch

I've discovered a lot of joy in making everything I touch a pleasure whenever possible. Even everyday stuff. Case in point: towels.

I stood in the towel aisle in Walmart tonight, choosing towels by texture first and color second. I didn't plan on buying anything. I was actually there just to exchange a set of sheets. But when I felt these extrodinarily sofffft towels, I knew a few of them had to come live in my house. I was lost in linen nirvana when I noticed a Wal-mart employee in the department re-arranging a shower curtain display. "Well hey Mary", I said with a grin to cover my sheepishness, "I'm just standing here petting these towels. I have NEVER felt towels this soft." Mary wasn't fazed by my towel-fondling. "Mmmm-hmm" she said in that matter-of-fact tone that only Southern Black women have, "I know that's right. I just bought me some last night and one lady came in here this morning and bought 18! Girl, if you want 'em, you better get 'em now." It was like saying "sick 'em" to a dog. I immediately obeyed, dropping 2 pair into my basket. I looked at my basket and mentally ran a tab in my head and decided I really didn't need that designer matching Kleenex box cover. After all, how many times am I gonna touch the Kleenex box cover?

It's a simple thing, a towel. But I've adopted the belief that anything that touches my skin should be as soft as possible. Especially my dripping wet, naked-as-the-day-I-was-born skin. My husband is a manly man and would never pick towels like this. He'd pick the rough-and-tough-whatever's-$1.99 towel. But after he climbs out of the shower and mops his dripping wet face with this towel he mutters, "God, these towels are soft!" When I create an environment of tactile pleasure in our master suite, he really enjoys it. And I enjoy seeing him enjoy it. That's not double talk, my friend. That's wifely joy. -SW-

Details...I wanted to include a link in case any of you now have a hankering for these towels. But they're not on walmart.com. So here's the label, girls. HomeTrends Reversible Ultra Soft Bath Towel 100% Low Twist Cotton. If I see a link on Wally in the next few days I'll post it.