impatient

So - went and talked to the therapist - and it's taken me a while to get to the point where I want to talk about it - but anyhow, she basically told me the same thing that all of the self-help books, all of the online resources - everything has said.

Basically, suck it up and fuck him. Period. She actually told me that I was being 'rather self-indulgent' for not giving it up on a regular basis - and that just so - goes against my grain. I'm a bit of a stubborn one, I am. And - I'm an only child too - so that whole concept of 'forced sharing' never really planted itself in my personality. And even still - I'm not a selfish person - I enjoy giving that which I want to give. And maybe that does make me selfish - the fact that I am only willing to share what I want to share, and not what other people tell me that I should share. So yeah, maybe I am self-indulgent. And maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill, and maybe I do just need to - settle into it. But - at the same time - It just seems unfair to ME to have to do it. And yes, I realize that this can't be all about me - it's gotta be about us. And yes, I will (clearly) have to 'take one for the team' (and how appropiate is that) in order to keep him happy. Okay fine, in order to keep us happy.

It still feels wrong.

She also suggested that I try to have sex as much as possible - that maybe once I get into the groove of it, it won't be such a headache to do it. I'm lucky, she says, in that I don't have any physical issues (shit, must make appointment with OBGYN) that would impede the pleasure - only mental ones.

I feel like I'm making excuses most of the time - that I'm trying to avoid facing this by pushing it outside of myself. And - I don't think I am, I'm just trying to figure it OUT objectively - and the only way to pull that off is to pull it out of me - or pull me out of it. I don't know - it's - irksome.

One thing that has clicked though - as I've analyzed my slutyears - I'm hornier when I'm carefree. When I don't have to worry/think/stay aware of ANYTHING. When I know that I'm being taken care OF, I turn into a little gooey puddle of sex and raunch. When I'm totally relaxed - no where to do, nothing to do, no bills to worry about, no house to clean - basically if I'm in vacation mode, I can be - and am - very - frisky. And - it's hard for me to get there now, because I am - adult, I suppose. I do have to think about what needs to happen tomorrow, and whether the cat box is clean, and whether I've sent off enough money to cover the cable bill. I am that responsible, step-vacuuming, dishwasher loading person. And truly, I DON'T mind. But at the same time, it puts me into a place where I am not footloose and fancyfree.

Earlier in my diary, I had mentioned that if I could stay home, and be taken care of (financially) he'd get it every night - and I still think that's true. Hell, I actually think it's even MORE true. If I didn't have to worry about making it to work on time, if I wasn't focused on whether the sheets needed to be cleaned, if I - if I could just LIVE without all the nasty fiduciary concerns that are required to live - I would be a very different woman. But once again, I think I'm making excuses as to why I CAN'T be this woman that I want to be, rather than focusing on what I can do TO be this woman. I think that so much of it is under my surface - things that float about and usually only come to light in my dreams and the random thoughts I have late at night when I'm falling asleep with my favorite wished for life in my head.

She also suggested that we communicate more. And I know - a lot of what I've said here I haven't said to him. Largely for two reasons - one, I'm a big fat cry baby, and I have a very hard time expressing things so nicely and clearly vocally - I'm a much better writer than I am a talker. The other reason is because in our whole relationship - we've really only had two big issues. For me, it's been money. For him, it's been sex. They are both very hot touchpoints for BOTH of us - and I haven't figured out a way to say - if I don't have to worry about money, you won't have to worry about sex - and then, what if I'm wrong? Gah. Or........if I wanted to tell him all of the worries/fears/concerns I have with our life together....it would go a little something like this.

Sometimes - I worry about us. Sometimes, I worry about me. Ever since I was a little, little girl, and after I got around my twitchiness about feminism and realized that the whole point was to allow me to make MY choice - I've known what I've wanted out of life. I want to be a housewife. That's right, a SAHM, a domestic enginnering goddess of the garden and the hearth. That's - my dream. When I fall asleep at night, and I want good positive images in my head - that's what I dream of. I dream of a house, full of children and friends and family and love. I dream of a garden, full of fruits of my hands. I dream of a house, maintained and lovingly lived in. I dream of me, intertwined through all of that - nuturing and maintaining and supporting this - image - knowing that all I have to worry about is maintaining THIS space, and that what is required to maintain it (ie. money) is no longer my concern. That the only thing that I need to worry about in my life is nuturing what we've created together.

But - honestly love, I don't see that ever happening. Or maybe, I'm just too impatient - or maybe just my womb is too impatient - and I'm far too aware of the timing on that particular clock. But - in the five years that we've been together - you've had what - 10? 11? different jobs? Most of which you were fired from - true, many of the reasons (at least from what you tell me - and often I'm wondering if I'm really getting the full true story) were bullshit, but the fact is still there. I've always made more than you - right now I'm making almost twice as much as you are - hell, almost three times as much. And my job is okay - I haven't been here long enough to say that I hate it - but in another 6 months, I'm sure that I'll be there. And sometimes, I just get so TIRED looking 6 years down the road, and still feeling like I will have to be the main financial rock of support. Oddly enough, that's simply NOT the role that I want. If there was a way to make my nuturing pay (which I'm working on) I would be happy with that - but this 9-5, computerized bullshit drains my passion, my heart, my energy, my fire right out of me. And knowing that I'm doing it so that we can get to a place where I am free to nuture - it's a laughable dream sometimes, because I don't believe that you will ever be in a stable enough, well-paid enough place to support that dream.

And - it's hard for me to say this - because I'm telling you that I don't fully believe in your image of you being a top-tier person in your field in two years, making 5 digits. You don't have the history for it. You don't have the focus for it. Heavens knows, you don't have the financial history for anyone in their right mind to sponsor something like that - and even worse, if you DO get that position, what's to say that you'll actually be able to hold on to it? I see it happening in more like 5 - maybe 10 years - before we get to a point that's actually stable enough for us to start working on my dream. And - by that time, I would really like to be DONE with the baby-having, housefinding, friend creating process - and be fully in maintence mode. But - honestly, I don't think it's going to happen any time soon. And sometimes, when I come home, and load the dishwasher, and dustmop the floors, and toss a load in the washer, I wonder how long it'll be before this is my full life - and it makes me so very sad because I don't see that ever happening - because I fell in love and married a poor man.

And I love you - I do. Truly, madly, deeply -because of, and despite, all of your faults. And I suppose, that we could have kids, and I could keep working, and I could shut down that image of my perfect life and just live in the life we've made. And I suppose, if that's what I have to do - then, yeah, it'll get done. I just - I just think that it would close off a part of me that's never even had a chance to fully express itself. And that makes me very sad....Prozac, anyone?