Today I am devoting the column to one reader’s big messy story—and I’m asking you to advise him. I love this man, but have hit the wall in helping him. (I told him to read Pamela Madsen's book, Shameless and get back to me after. See my review. Like the Cowardly Lion, he must find his courage; and Pamela is the inspiration for that.)
JG has been writing to me about his marriage for months. Last summer when we first corresponded, he said that he had a good, solid marriage, but the sex was disappointing. His wife didn’t like to try anything new, never had been good at oral sex, considers his masturbating to porn cheating on the marriage—and preferred not to do the old routine all that often anymore either. He was frustrated, horny and feeling deprived. As the months went by and he moved closer to having an affair to get his sexual needs met, he told me more about his marriage, including his problems reaching orgasm due to meds for depression. Not too many years ago, she suffered a nasty infection that an infectious disease expert said could only have come from an untreated STD. The gynecologist said he didn’t think so. Nobody tested either one of them—which sounds like criminal malpractice to me.
She blamed him. He said he’d been true to her except for one brief indiscretion with a good, clean woman (no condom) and one lap dance at a strip club. Yes, he blamed the lap dancer. I said, “Unless that was a lap dance culminating in sexual intercourse, I don’t think so.” He admitted his pants hadn’t come off. I suggested his wife may have strayed, but he said, “No, she wouldn’t do that.”
Uh-huh. I explained the Madonna/Whore complex to him, but he said, “That’s not me.” Oh, no, of course not. Good wife/dirty lap dancer. No Madonna/Whore there.
At Christmas, she told him she was unhappy and wanted a separation, then left in a carefully orchestrated move obviously planned well in advance. The woman is genius at moving on while holding on—just in case the new life doesn’t work out, she’s still married. Meanwhile, he’s paying all the expenses on their home plus their kids’ college costs while she keeps her salary for her new apartment and travels. He still doesn’t think she is seeing anyone else.
After she left him, he cried and whined and said he wanted her back and didn’t understand why she was unhappy and why she had to leave. I reminded him that the sex that had been lousy for him wasn’t any better, and possibly worse, for her. Plus, she had her righteous anger about the STD because even if she had lovers, they no doubt were clean, good men; and her husband was the one who brought the dirty lap dancer into their life. Wasn’t her sexual rejection of him a message about the marriage? What was so surprising about her decampment?
I urged him to make connections—with a real woman or women, not that there is anything wrong with porn/hookers/strippers/Hooters’ waitresses—but how about a real woman who would expect action and reaction? Also I suggested he make some friends of his own or develop the casual “guy” friendships he has now. But he says he is “all alone in the world” because he isn’t able to discuss his marriage with his wife’s best friend whom he thought was also his friend or, for that matter, with anyone in their social group. “I am left out of the community,” he moaned. It’s clear to me that the wives in this group are the friends and the husbands come along—until they are no longer attached husbands. Not only the best friend but all the women have been hearing about JG’s inadequacies (as perceived by the wife) for years no doubt. Why in hell wouldn’t he want his own team when he’s crying in his beer?
I listened to him whine about how he can’t talk to his wife’s best friend but she talks to her all the time—and, dear readers, I gave him the verbal slap in the face and said, “Snap out of it!” My patience with his inability to see that marriage and the separation realistically and grow up enough to create his own confidants—at least this much—has frustrated me. He sounded like a spoiled child, telling me he wants his wife back and his “community” in his corner as well as hers. Yeah? I want the body I had at 37 when it was absolutely as perfect as it has ever been. Oh, and I would like to win a big jackpot lottery without buying a ticket too.
That’s the short version of his story. He’s also a good-looking man, very sexy in photos, who can be funny and smart—and write hot erotic scenarios—when he isn’t obsessing on what he’s “lost.”
Advice, readers? I hope someone has the words that will help this troubled man put on his big boy pants and explore the world. By the way, I ran this past him before posting. He has no problems with my summation—and does want your help.
Quickly, on an unrelated topic: I ran into Rebecca the other day at a Starbucks in Harlem. She looks fabulous, as always. If you are newer readers and never read Rebecca, go to the category Rebecca Fridays and see what you missed. She has a unique voice, funny, sexy, cheeky and wise. Her incredibly busy career got in the way of her writing so SexyPrime lost Rebecca. But her collected posts await your discovery or re-discovery. Dr. Betty Dodson says that Rebecca’s post on her mother’s pubic hair is one of the funniest things she’s ever read; and that is high praise. Enjoy!
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