Youngest child and I recently returned from a little vacay in Colorado visiting my family and some of my friends.
I don’t know about you, but when I go on vacation (especially at my mom’s), it turns into a lingering jaunt of eating, sleeping, reading, eating some more, playing in the mountains. And then eating some more.
I had to come home. I was going to gain about 20 pounds if I stayed much longer.
And we needed to make it home by Friday evening, because I had a date with my husband at the Men’s College World Series (one of Omaha’s claims to fame and so much fun for those of us who are baseball fans).
I missed my man and was so ready to be home. I was ready for a lot of things, if you know what I mean. The only downside? My period had started the day I drove home. Sex wasn’t going to be part of the homecoming that night.
Yes, I know some women don’t mind having sex during their period, but I’m not in that camp. For one, what a mess. For two, my periods have gotten worse as I have gotten older in that for the first two days, I kind of feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. By day three, everything is better. But the first two days. Ugh.
In all the years my husband and I have been together, I think this is the first time my period coincided with us being reunited after some days apart.
Even though we couldn’t have sex, I was delightfully surprised by the opportunity it gave us to intimately connect through conversation and laughter. I’m not saying we don’t ever have conversations like that, because we do, but you know what I mean, right?
Marriage, parenting, work and the monotonous hum that often becomes the musical score of our lives can make us deaf and blind. We miss (or don’t look for) opportunities to have long intimate conversations with the person we married.
Our conversation started in the car as we headed downtown to the stadium for the ball game. We refuse to pay for parking and actually don’t mind parking several blocks away for free and then trekking our way there. Walking and more talking. And then we stopped at a store to pick up deals on sweatshirts and t-shirts. (That’s really not relevant to the story, but I do love me a good deal.)
We tailgated with our friends and then headed into the stadium, still enjoying such a nice conversation about anything and everything. We held hands. We laughed.
I kid you not, our conversation continued after the game as we made our way through the crowds pouring out, and then late into the night in our living room. And then more talking and laughing later in our bed, in the dark.
That was the best part, honestly. Tender connection and catching up in the dark with our words when we couldn’t give fully with our bodies.
If you have made it this far into the post and haven’t clicked away, you’re probably wondering what my point is? Or you just think my husband and I are freak shows who got caught up in some romantic non-physical love fest. (I wouldn’t blame you if you’re in the latter camp.)
I do have a point, though.
There are times in marriage when you briefly can’t have sex for whatever reason. Instead of seeing those moments as tedious waits you must endure like the line at the DMV, why not see them as subtle invitations for intimate conversation?
That kind of intimate connection makes the sex better, you know.
Copyright 2018, Julie Sibert. Intimacy in Marriage Blog. Links may be monetized.