There are all sorts of battles and wars in an abusive relationship. Most of them are with your partner but it is equally true to say that some of them are fought within your own self too. ‘To have or to not have sex’ is such a disagreeable position to be in. It was always on my to-do list alongside the ironing and cooking. It became nothing more than a chore to be done.
Before being married I had a concept of sex in my mind. It is a beautiful expression and mixture of physical oneness, ecstasy and vulnerability. It draws you into each other in such a way that you almost feel as if you are breathing the very essence of your partner’s being. It stimulates a feeling of mutual peace and satisfaction. It delivers restoration and renewal . It’s refreshing. It endorses unity on a profound level. I still believe those things.
When the horror of my decision to marry this man dawned on me, I became a woman on autopilot about everything. Life in the house and with him became a series of routines that just needed to be done. It was life devoid of emotions. Sex is hard to initiate (or even desire for that matter) when your life is all about getting ready for combat, engaging in the actual warfare and recovering from the conflict. The bigger picture was to prevent an argument about the lack of sex. The smaller picture was about how to manage my emotions during and after. The buoyancy of love both Eros and agape have declined to a critical level yet I felt an obligation to service my husband and avoid a dispute. I always knew I never wanted to be the wife who selfishly withheld sex but who willingly embraces a cactus tree?
Sex in daylight hours were hardest. I learned to fake my facial expressions. I showed him the happy participant face while on the inside I was screaming and even hating both him and myself. Night sex was easier. We never bothered to keep the lights on because the street light was near enough to the bedroom. The glow illuminated just enough so as not to be intrusive. I didn’t have to hide my real feelings because he couldn’t see them, perhaps if he could he would have run away. You see I could easily wear my resentment, and it was my animosity that got me through sex.
I hated sex with him. The most beautiful gift of God to mankind was now so grotesque. I always felt cheap afterwards, like I was a maid with the extra responsibility of providing sex but with no extra pay, bonus or compensation of any kind. Sex without love is one of the most degrading things I experienced in my marriage but it also made me wonder about other things. Is this how women enslaved as sex workers and prostitutes who are pimped feel? Sex is just a means to an end? How do they keep their sanity throughout the act time after time? How do they maintain their self-esteem? Imagine being in a situation where you experience worthlessness everyday and all the time? That’s a special type of hell.
Because God is King, I am a princess. His love is unconditional regardless of our circumstances. Regardless of what we call ourselves, He says we are His children. That makes us royalty. No one can take that from us. Our circumstances can often makes us feel like scum. God reminds us that we are His gems!
He brought us to life using the true word, showing us off as the crown of all His creatures, James 1:18.The Message Bible