Editor’s Note: Alright, women. We’re talking about sex today. Claire volunteered to write this (and her husband Aaron helped!) to share with all of you. You can follow Claire at @lovliestweets & her blog at Glitter & Grunge. They are almost 10 years into marriage and crazy in love with each other, but they’ve had a hell of a time in the bedroom. If this hits home & you would like to speak with Claire, she has made herself available to you. Please send me an email at goodwomenproject[at]gmail.com & I will put you in touch with her. I don’t need to say anything more. Go read.
My husband, Aaron and I are very different people. We always joke about what a free spirit I am, ready to drop everything for an adventure anytime any day, responsibility be damned. He will never take a sick day unless he is really sick regardless of what spontaneous adventure I have cooked up for us. I am a creative, always thinking of the next project I want to work on, even if it never gets done. My husband is logical, likes to plan and prepare, unfinished projects haunt him. I have a tendency to say and do what I think when I think them with little regard to those around me, while he carefully chooses his words and actions. I like things to always be rosy and happy, lets not talk about our problems! He likes to sit down and really hash out our issues and get those suckers resolved.
You can imagine how these attributes could lead to a little bit of friction in those first years of marriage, can’t you? Now imagine if one of your biggest issues after the wedding day is sex. For many of you that might be the case. Your past, unmet expectations, unvoiced worries or fears can and will collide in those first few months (sometimes years) of marriage and your sex life will probably be at the center of it. (more…)
Last summer, Max wrote A Gentleman’s Guide to the 21st Century. For me, it was a massive slap in the face. I had forgotten that men like this were around. I knew that I’d started to settle & I’d already started working on that, but this reminded me that it was an all or nothing deal.
I was raised with high expectations for men, and in high school was blessed to be around extraordinarily good guys. No, seriously. I lived in a bubble that most of you will never experience. A bubble where all of my guy friends held the door open for us girls, took the lead at the dance parties we threw for every single one of our birthdays (and kept their hands in the right places), dropped all profanity when we were in the room, and never tried to ‘get with us’ unless they had a damn good date planned. I successfully made it through high school without ever having even kissed a guy.
Fast forward three or four years and I had been completely and entirely convinced that these guys were gone. I couldn’t tell you how many guys I’d kissed. I’d have to ask you the definition of kissed if you asked that question. Did it mean making out, or did it include the intoxicated kisses around the room too? I remember sitting on the edge of my bed at one point and piecing this thought together: “I know what I’m worth. The man that deserves me does not exist. So, I’ll just take what I want from him, and I won’t feel guilty. I can’t get what I need so I’ll just take what I want. What feels good. For ME.” (more…)
Editor’s Note: Women. Angie came to me a few days ago, and said this: “I am a 31 year old married mother of one beautiful little 16 month old boy. I’ve been married for going on 6 years (holy crap!). I was the girl who never wanted to get married and would rather be married to my career. My life is better than I could have ever expected and it is all because I found someone who didn’t change me. I didn’t try to change at all, and somehow we loved each other unconditionally.” So many of you women are extraordinarily talented & have such promise for your careers, and are in the same place that Angie was six years ago. So, I asked Angie to please write for us here & tell a bit of her story. She blogs at RoachKid.com and tweets at @angie608.
I never thought I was going to be anything other than Carrie Bradshaw. In 2001, from the moment I set foot in New York, I thought that it was where I was meant to be. I had an internship in TV, I had an apartment for the summer in Manhattan, and I was ready to start my life as Nebraska transplant turned I-can-do-anything-I-don’t-need-a-man-career-woman. The problem was, after three months, I hated it.
So, I moved to Chicago…ready to restart my life as the Nebraska transplant turned I-can-do-anything-I-don’t-need-a-man-career-woman. The problem was, Jeff. Yes, I just called my husband a problem. You see, when I met him, he changed my plan. We were set up through a mutual “friend”, we talked through email for weeks, and finally met for dinner over Thai food in Hyde Park. He was persistent; ever after I told him he was the “big brother I always wanted.” Yeah, I am that smooth. (more…)
Editor’s Note: This submission is from Blair. I love her. She’s like the chicken soup of passion, sweetness, truth, honesty, and a spicy kick. She emailed me asking if she could help with the project, and in her email, she mentioned that she was still wildly in love with her husband, and that they never, ever fought. WHAT. Are you serious? So I asked her to share a bit of her story with us. Read read read. – Lauren
My husband & I do not fight.
That may seem odd, or difficult to believe, or impossible…but true. We have never raised our voices or thrown out words in the heat of the moment that we regret. In our marriage, there is never name-calling or storming off with slammed doors & tears. It is not because we are both meek lambs that avoid conflict; in truth, we are both bulls that lovingly point fingers at who is the most stubborn. No, my partner of seven years & husband of almost five & I do not fight because years ago, I pledged to honor & cherish him.
I strive daily to uphold those vows, & thus in the simplest, most raw form, be a good wife. A good woman.
Today, I stood alone over a grimy sink full of dishes. My shoulders ached through the suds as I scrubbed pots & bowls & spoons. Mountained up from a weekend away followed by a blistering week. I thought of the weekends my husband left for work or golf to come home to a fresh-scrubbed home. A warm smile to welcome him home, all worries conquered so he would rest upon his return. That labor of love so willingly given by me, yet not returned. Bitterly, I gazed around the kitchen, taking measure of crumbs & coffee cups & dust bunnies that welcomed me home. “It’s unfair,” my mind snapped. I seethed at the inequality. (more…)