Comments (46)

By Jennifer Witt, August 22, 2011 6:00 am

Time magazine recently published two articles discussing new studies regarding sexual satisfaction, marriage and infidelity. While Time played up the “groundbreaking” nature of the results, I was not surprised. Shortly after my wedding, I came to the conclusion that sex is probably the most important aspect of marriage.

That revelation wasn’t the result of any sexual dysfunction in my relationship, but simply the result of adjusting to being married and to the expectations we all subconsciously harbor about marital bliss and the reality of being committed to someone ’til death do us part.

When I woke up one day to find the new marriage smell worn off, I emerged from the newlywed cocoon so many of us get wrapped up in during the early days of forever. I found my way back to hobbies my husband doesn’t have an interest in and to the uncoupled friends I unintentionally overlooked, because inviting them out always seemed like making them the third wheel. I watched chick flicks by myself and ran errands without him. I started shopping with my mom again.

I wasn’t sad or mad or glad. I just rediscovered the fact that there is a world outside our coupledom that is fun and fulfilling. My emotional and intellectual needs could be met without him being the source of all my contentment.

But after all my girls’ nights out and mother-daughter adventures, I still had one need that could only be met at home, within my marriage: S-E-X.

Hitting me rather abruptly, I realized that out of all the relationship needs, sex is the only one that cannot be met by anyone else other than your spouse. At least not in a socially acceptable context, unless you are polyamorous (which is arguably not socially acceptable, but that’s beside the point).

Continue reading 'Sex Is The Most Important Part Of A Marriage'»

Comments (30)

By Lady Bee, June 13, 2011 6:00 am

Photo by Dan Grebb via Flickr

Imagine the scene….

A balmy February evening with a luxurious yacht skimming along the water. On board are couples in love. To surprise Jane, John has two tickets for this Valentine’s Day moonlit cruise around the harbor.

On the drive to the dock, John remains tight lipped, frustrating Jane. She anxiously clutches the bouquet of her favorite flowers, wondering what he has planned for her, but knowing that whatever it is, she will like it. He just knows her so well.

They board the yacht with the other happy pairs and then settle together hand-in-hand at the railing, leaning out to the waves as they disappear from view in the boat’s wake. The lights of the city sparkle in the distance, and the sea air blows a gentle caress across Jane’s face and through her hair.

John takes Jane’s hand and leads her to the centre of the deck. Then, he gets down on one knee in front of all the passengers, pulls out The Box with The Ring inside and says, “Jane, I love you, will you marry me?”

With a squeal, she cries, “Yes!”

He rises, slips the ring onto her finger, and immediately, she wraps her arms around him and covers him in kisses. A round of spontaneous applause breaks out on the yacht, and the other couples cheer and whistle. She basks in the good wishes and attention of her fellow travelers–the adoration, the love, the romance.

It could not have been more spectacular if she had planned it herself. It was perfect….

Oh, please! Give me a break from such sappy romance!

I can see you rolling your eyes now. It sounds like the absolute worst movie cliché from some cheap popcorn Romcom or a film about a Season in a Famous City that will remain nameless. But incredibly, it’s not. My cousin was proposed to in this exact manner. She really couldn’t have been happier, and for the record, she has been married for three years.

Continue reading 'No Romance For Me, Please'»

Comments (18)

By Rebecca Sullins, December 13, 2010 6:00 am

Image by Bill Lapp via Flickr

My mother was right. About everything. And if you ever tell her I said that, I may have to kill you.

I wasn’t always the upstanding, hard-working, settled-down, home-owning, pinnacle of the American dream that I am today. And yet, that’s exactly what my mother predicted, even as I was sneaking out all night, smoking, throwing parties, and piercing body parts that aren’t easily visible in everyday clothing.

My rebellion started after my mom sent my brother to live with our dad and forced him to relinquish his troublemaker badge of honor. I picked it up, dusted it off, and gave it the best run ever. I was rebelling against everything I found to be mainstream: office jobs, pearls, kids, marriage, and any other kind of socially-accepted lifestyle. Worst of all, I’m pretty sure I permanently corrupted my younger brother.

My mother has one small tattoo on her hip. I went levels beyond. Today, everyone can see my rebellion plastered right there on my forearm. And my back. And my hips. And my thigh. Never did I contemplate how looking like I belonged on the back of a motorcycle would affect job prospects, social interaction, or even the person I ended up marrying.

I stopped caring about school. Not to the point of complete and utter failure, but just enough so that the assistant principal was on a first-name basis with Mom. I still had plans to attend college, but never once thought beyond the typical in-state arts college.

Children were out of the picture. Marriage, a dream that belonged on afternoon sitcoms or bridal magazines.

I was living my life as though the story that had no ending. No regrets, no consequences, and no clue.  Continue reading 'I’ve Become My Own Worst Nightmare'»

Comments (16)

By Jasmine Curry, October 25, 2010 6:00 am

She's got a huge red flag. Why are you ignoring it?

I just went to a friend’s wedding. Instead of jumping for joy that someone else was joining the club, though, my husband and I found ourselves thinking, “oh, no. They have no idea what they are in for.”

I shouldn’t be such a pessimist. This particular couple is incredibly compatible. But, there have been a string of divorces in my circle recently, and I think it comes down to one issue:

Ignoring the red flags.

All three of the girls I know whose marriages are ending have said the same thing: “I always felt like I was having sex with my brother.”

Ouch! If that’s not a red flag, I don’t know what is. So, why did they all ignore the flag and get married, anyway?

Perhaps it’s the need for stability. For some reason, we as a society think that if we are married, life can begin (those who think that life ends when you get married notwithstanding). Most agree that getting married means we won’t be alone ever again. And I mean ever. Like, if we need just one moment to ourselves, we are probably not going to get it. Ever.

But, we think we need to be with someone. And so, we get married… even though we know that we really want children, while he has made it clear that having kids is off the table.

Perhaps we ignore the red flag because we are getting older and thinking, “well, we want the same things, have the same goals, and it’s high time I get married before my window of opportunity closes.” So, we rush to have the wedding and start having children… only to discover that our atheism doesn’t fit with his desire to raise our children in a church.

Or maybe some of us just aren’t any good at being single. So, we look the other way at what we think isn’t that important. We tell ourselves that relationships are all about compromise.

The problem is, the red flags don’t go away. And if we don’t stand for what is truly important to us (and perhaps we didn’t even know just how important it was at the time), we lose not only ourselves in the marriage, but potentially the marriage, itself. Continue reading 'The Curse Of The Red Flag'»

Comments (46)

By Danny Braciole, July 29, 2010 8:00 am

How could Rob Gordon say no to Caroline Fortis?

The running joke amongst my friends is that people who are married (or hell, even people in a committed monogamous relationship) absolutely hate their single male friends. I know this is true because they are always trying to set me up on dates with their co-worker, or college friend, or sister’s ex-roommate’s cousin, in the hopes that I will find true love and therefore no longer be single.

It comes across as sweet enough—they want me to feel the same level of spiritual and emotional connection with another person that they share. But there’s a part of me that distrusts their innocent intentions. Like Tom Sawyer convincing his cronies to whitewash the fence, my well-meaning buddies are trying to get me to share their burden and pick up the chore that they’ve decided to tackle.

Misery loves company, after all. But I’m not buying what they’re selling.

I love being single. The freedom, the autonomy, the control I have are irreplaceable. I’m never more than two hours away from a spontaneous road trip or weekend away. When friends have an extra ticket to a show, sporting event, or theater production, I’m always the first one they call because I always say YES. If I see an attractive girl, I don’t have to pretend not to notice her. I walk right up and introduce myself. Unlike my romantically involved friends, Continue reading 'Making The Case For The Single Guy'»

Comments (0)

By Denice Blue, December 8, 2009 9:54 pm

Photo by Alex Clark

I always thought I was a strong person. But when it came to matters of the heart, I crumbled. Some call it being a romantic, while others might classify it as desperate or even weak. Whatever you call it, I was a mess when it came to to love.

Chance meeting an awesome guy who happened to enjoy many of the things I did. It didn’t take long for me to fall head over heels in love with Jon. We ran together, we cooked together, we played. We had fun. We had fun doing anything and everything together, whether it was camping or a night on the town.

Things were perfect. I was in love and elated with life. It was that kind of love you long for. The kind of love where your heart aches for the person, and you can never get close enough. Have you felt that ever? Oooohhh….it’s the BEST. Continue reading 'In Search Of "Deserve"'»

Comments (4)

By Dennis Hong, November 26, 2009 10:00 am

Image by Clipart.com

Ashley is a smart woman—a software developer, in fact. She’s attractive, she’s athletic, she’s outgoing, and she’s witty. And now that I’ve opened this story by telling you how smart, attractive, athletic, outgoing, and witty Ashley is, you can probably guess where this abject tale is headed….

You see, Ashley also happens to be hopelessly infatuated with Martin, a man she has been sharing the stuffing with for over a year now, and yet, a man who refuses to commit to her. As reasons for his waffling, he explains that he barely survived the bitter and traumatic breakup with his last girlfriend. He is still recovering from the experience, he reveals, and he just doesn’t know if he is ready to get involved in a serious relationship.

Ashley assures Martin that she understands. She tells him to take as much time as he needs. She will be supportive, and she will be patient. In the meantime, they continue to see each other once or twice each week, and she continues to let him candy her yams with each soiree. Continue reading 'The Mercy Of Gift'»