Navigating our intimacy issues felt like a straightforward puzzle to solve. The truth was, our libidos were no longer in sync, especially after welcoming our two little ones just 16 months apart. I’m not the type to pretend everything’s fine when it’s not. If I’m not in the mood, sex feels like a chore rather than a delight. My partner often says, “I just want to be intimate with my wife. You’re my wife.”
So, if you’re craving some thrilling moments, why not explore? I’m offering you a FREE PASS – a “hall pass” to seek pleasure elsewhere.
This concept had been simmering in the back of my mind for years. Guilt crept in after I struggled to be intimate with my partner post-babies. I often thought, “We have a solid marriage, we get along well, our kids are thriving, and I’m content – why ruin it by denying him?” If intimacy is that vital, he can find it elsewhere, right?
But there’s a nagging unfairness to the whole situation. Why is it that a lack of sex often leads to the end of a marriage? How can something so physical overshadow all the other beautiful aspects of our relationship? Why is it always sex or nothing?
Psychologists would likely tell me to “just do it.” They might insist that a healthy relationship thrives on intimacy and encourage me to “try harder, even if I’m not in the mood.” They’d suggest scheduling sex.
I tried all of that. I’ve had intimate moments with my partner even when my heart wasn’t in it, and let me tell you, it’s a turn-off. A little wine makes it bearable, but I often found myself pretending to be the sexy vixen, donning lingerie and jumping into action like I was in a romantic comedy. I was faking it, all so I wouldn’t be labeled as someone facing the inevitable “D” (divorce).
Now, before you think my partner is a villain, let me clarify: when we do connect, it’s incredible. The sexual drought bothers him, and it bothers me too. Why can’t I rekindle that fiery passion? Why does motherhood seem to have drained my libido?
I even had my hormones checked to see if they were to blame. Normal results.
I refuse to believe that romance is the sole foundation of a marriage. There’s so much good in our lives together. If our romantic spark takes a backseat for a while, does that mean we’re doomed?
One evening, while enjoying cocktails, I blurted out, “I wish you could just be with someone else. Have a free pass. Just don’t tell me and be safe. Please don’t fall in love.”
My partner’s expression shifted to shock and hurt. “You don’t love me anymore,” he said quietly.
I felt tears welling up but held them back. Didn’t he realize I offered this because I DO love him?
“Have you considered what it would mean if I were with someone else?” he asked, looking genuinely pained.
“Yes, I’ve thought it through. It feels like the only way to find happiness for both of us. I’m overwhelmed by the pressure to be an ideal partner – the hot, fit wife who can juggle work, cook dinner, tend to the kids, and still be the romantic. It’s just too much.”
He reassured me, “I don’t pressure you to cook or clean.” This is true. He wouldn’t mind if I hired help. But when he’s feeling frisky, he does drop hints that if I loved him, I’d want to be intimate.
I don’t see how love and sex are the same. No amount of psychological advice can change the reality of parenting. I adore my partner, but sometimes my desire just isn’t there.
My experience is relatable to anyone with young children – I’m exhausted and drained. I can’t handle the pressure of being a sexual dynamo every night. I need my sleep!
Forget about scheduling romantic encounters or obligatory date nights. Those suggestions are going on my “how-NOT-to-save-my-marriage” list. Juggling everything on my to-do list is enough to make me lose my mind.
It’s tough to be the physically and emotionally available partner I once was. Our lives are filled with family logistics, work commitments, and all the chaos that comes with raising kids. Plus, there are my post-baby body issues (which I won’t dwell on).
I didn’t need therapy to reach these conclusions. Our marriage isn’t broken, and we’re not heading for divorce. Ironically, my partner isn’t interested in my FREE PASS idea. Can’t we just take a breather from romance and focus on parenting these tiny humans?
In due time, romance will return. Date nights and passion will be back on the menu. And if it takes a year or five, that’s perfectly fine.
Right now, I want to be friends and partners, and he feels the same. I hope the relationship experts stop pushing me with their cookie-cutter advice for post-baby marriages. I’m not the same person I used to be.
My body, mind, and marriage have all transformed since parenthood. I want to enjoy the journey with my partner, sharing moments at soccer games, school recitals, and graduations.
Even though we may not have the hottest romantic life at the moment, I know my partner will be there when I’m ready, free pass in hand – for me.
If you enjoyed this article, check out this piece for more on navigating relationships. For more insights, visit Make A Mom, an authority on home insemination. Additionally, Resolve provides excellent resources for family building options.
Summary:
In this candid reflection, Lauren shares the complexities of intimacy in her marriage post-children, admitting to a mismatch in desire and the overwhelming pressure she feels. Despite offering her partner a “free pass” to seek intimacy elsewhere, she emphasizes the importance of their friendship and partnership, recognizing that their relationship has evolved into a new phase. The piece highlights the challenges many couples face after becoming parents, ultimately conveying that love and connection can exist even when romance takes a backseat.