From The Men: Women, Sex, & The Honeymoon.
Editor’s Note: I am so excited to end this month with a post by my husband, Max Dubinsky. A few of you know our crazy Met-On-Twitter-Roadtripped-For-A-Year-Married-On-A-Cliff-Last-September story, but if not, let me simply introduce to you the greatest man I’ve ever met. A man who shows me daily why women are so valuable. A man who loves me for everything I am and everything I’m not – and a man I respect and adore. It’s so easy to believe as a woman that our greatest asset to a man is access to sex, and today Max shares a little of what he has to say about all this. He blogs at MakeItMad.com and tweets at @MaxDubinsky. Max, I love you. – Lauren
I used to fantasize about being married. Not about having a house, a white picket fence, a steady job, and a beautiful wife and adoring kids to come home to. No, I fantasized about my marriage being one camera shy of an amateur porn film Hugh himself would have envied. And as a single man, I was an expert on marriage. Lots of sex makes a healthy marriage.
On my honeymoon, I was going to lock us away in a hotel for a week and live on nothing but sex and cigarettes. The beat generation would have been envious of my whiskey and oxytocin enduced spaceman prose, high and poetic off the aura of my Helen of Troy.
Because sex is as close to perfection as any of us will ever get. In theory, one could say this is why we seek so frequently seek copulation outside of marriage. Because everything: anxiety, stress, depression, all of it, whether you love that person or not, dissolves into the stratosphere for a few near-perfect seconds when you’re tangled beneath the sheets and around each other. No drug nor drink does anything quite like it. Of course, in the case of, say, a one night stand, the crash back to planet earth from the heavenly stars above is painful enough that the only cure is to become an astronaut again.
I knew the high. I was determined, destined, desperate, to safely orbit the the earth for the rest of my life.
Then I actually got married. A whirlwind romance I wouldn’t recommend to anyone who gets queasy on ferris wheels and other carnival rides that go round and round. We read our vows and committed the whole hoopla of our love in front of 14 other people and God Himself six months after we met in person, on a cliff. And our honeymoon – – 3 days in a Denver hotel where we instagrammed pictures, watched a movie starring Matthew McConaughey, had dinner with my family, and enjoyed a couple of root beer floats amongst other acceptable activities upon our undefiled marriage bed – – was not exactly something Ginsberg would have been compelled to write about.
3 days wasn’t a week, nor did we do anything no one had ever seen or experienced before, but I was in love and found it a success nonetheless. Next, we were going to have our own apartment in a new city. We were going to work from home, which meant sex in the morning, sex in the afternoon, and sex before bed. We could spend entire days naked and marveling at each other’s bodies.
Except we went from our hotel in Denver to living in the backwoods of Oregon for 3 months in a half-finished basement where the nearest neighbor was seven miles away and reports of Bigfoot ran rampant through town. It’s hard to be naked and having sex every night when someone is constantly walking around upstairs where the vents conveniently carry your cries of passion, and a big hairy apeman with a possible penchant for the voyeuristic is lurking right outside your window.
The sex will get better when we move to LA.
So we moved to LA. And got a place of our own. But that didn’t change the fact that my wife married a man who lives in constant speculation that a Zombie Apocalypse is around the corner, and her new home sits right on a fault line. I find it far more difficult to be protective of my wife when I’m not wearing pants, no matter how often I go to the gym. I’m convinced Adam didn’t cover up because he was ashamed, but because if he had to slay a lion for his beloved, defeating such a beast seems immensely more probable when your reproductive organs can’t be mistaken for a midmorning snack.
I’m not expert on being married. In fact, I know less about marriage now than when I was single, but I can tell you this: the sole value of a woman in a man’s life is not sex. Unfortunately, ask any single man, particularly Christian, and he’ll tell you how he can’t wait to have a wife so he can have sex.
Here’s the thing ladies and gentlemen, it turns out the value I find in my wife, my lady, my queen, is not how quick she is to jump in the sack and perform a marathon with me. (I’m sure I sound like a scumbag for believing that the most important part of being married having sex. It’s not that I didn’t think women were valuable, but I was so far gone from my pornography addiction, it makes it more difficult to see women are capable of anything else.)
The first thing God deemed “not good” was being alone. So he gave Adam someone to do life with, not someone to just, well, do.
My life is easier because of my wife. She works in the same industry I do, and she’s good at the things I am not. She’s the one business partner I can consult knowing that she has no one’s interest at heart but mine. She’ll choose an action movie over a romantic comedy, finds the show Archer both appalling and hilarious, is ready to go on an adventure at a moment’s notice, doesn’t get angry (but does get anxiety) when I give a homeless man our well-earned money, and on a Saturday night she is perfectly content Googling pictures of sea monsters and puppies with me while watching awful movies on Netflix.
Her value isn’t held in cooking dinners, cleaning the house, doing the laundry (tasks that I regularly do – with joy, I might add), or being readily available for sex, but in being herself. The woman God created her to be. “Herself” is the founder of this website; a leader with a heart for broken, young woman; a survivor of an abusive, controlling home; a storyteller, an artist, a photographer, a writer, a lover. These are the reasons I adore Lauren. These are the reasons she is valuable as a woman. These are the reasons I am crazy about her, and why men are crazy about their wives.
If you’re a woman and you’re reading this today, know that your value lies in precisely who God had in mind when he laid the foundations of this planet – and not solely in your body and your ability to satisfy a man.
Men, know that sex is the reward of healthy relationship with her – and not what makes her valuable. And tell her this.
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