Searched and didn't see anything. Mock if old.
The fact is, I am horrible at intimacy. I come from a family of non-huggers and I sometimes hate my body, so yeah, recipe for Temple Grandin hug machine. My husband is gorgeous and very, very sexy, but the issues we were having in the sack were all me. I could not shut my insecurity off, and sex quickly became a really anxiety-inducing experience that went one of two ways.
1. I avoided it, because it was hot and stressful hiding my body under two comforters and a snowsuit in the dark and instead ran a diversion play. I have cramps. I have too many deadlines. Gigi is too scared to sleep alone let's bring her in the bed with us. Yeah, I used a 4-year-old as the most adorable cock-block ever. You can't be in sex mode after reading three Fancy Nancy books, you just can't.
2. I tried to explain to him why I was self conscious, and then he asked why him telling me how pretty I was wasn't enough for me to get over it, and I felt like a horrible, horrible asshole.
So after a lot of crying and shrimp curry, I came up with the plan to have sex every day for a year, barring any medical problems or logistical issues, and he seemed to be pretty okay with it. I wish it could say it was a profound decision, but the truth is, I was getting worried he was losing interest because I acted uninterested out of insecurity, and he was getting nervous about me saying things like, how awesome do separate bedrooms sound!?
(Spoiler alert: I still vote separate bedrooms, but he's a snorer and sleep chewer who is vehemently against the color mint and my need for body pillows.)
We figured if we focused on intimacy, eventually it'd rekindle all the things we spent sevenish post-birth years back burner'ing out of sheer exhaustion and raging insecurity. This is the same way I got over my fear of eating oysters and driving in the snow. You just make yourself do it until you don't notice it feels like mucus or like you don't know how to control a motor vehicle. You make yourself do it until it becomes a place of comfort and safety. You make yourself do it until suddenly, you love it.
Now I can't speak for Andy, except to say he had a really good time, but for me, a year of sex became less about getting my sex on, and more about getting my brain to stop being an asshole when I took all my clothes off.
It started off pretty rough. I felt like I was always preparing for sex; Whore's Bath & Sink Shaving Badge #5: UNLOCKED. It got to the end of the day, and as I hunched over the sink washing my face, praying for cold sheets and sleep, I'd realize I still had the whole love-making thing to do, and it was like, awesome, another daily chore.
But then it stopped being a chore, and became the moment of the day where I was most at peace. Where I could have an actual conversation with my husband and know he was listening to me and not secretly watching television or elbow deep in Lego assembly.
I told a few friends, and they reacted pretty much the same way, oh I could never do that. And I totally get it, but I actually learned a lot about myself between the sheets.
It's not you, it's me. Stop being weird about it.
So I disliked my stomach. My thighs. How I looked laying flat on my back. A myriad of irrational things, really, and I'd have the same conversation with Andy about it, telling him I'm self conscious and I just don't feel sexy, and then he'd spend 10 minutes telling me how gorgeous I am, and then another 30 minutes pouting and being hurt that it wasn't enough to make me change my mind. So on top of feeling insecure, I felt like a jerk. That needed to stop. I needed to explain to him that him seeing me that way is great, but unless I saw it too, it didn't count. I mean, at least if he expected me to be an active participant and not just a hole laying on the mattress. It took a lot of talking to make him realize that me not feeling sexy was not an attack on him, and him being hurt about it only made me feel worse. I wanted to enjoy sex, too. And the key for me being able to enjoy it is feeling confident and gorgeous, and that was a me journey, not a him journey, though having a cheerleader on the sidelines was a plus.
We quickly learned, confident Brittany sex is way better.
Source
Brittany appears on NBC's Today Show to talk about her decision and blogging about it
Thoughts?