I have, on occasion, admitted to enjoying a romp with my handsome husband of 12 years. I have never come out and said “SEX WITH MY HUSBAND IS TOPS!” No, I’m much more coy about the whole business of being naked and entwined. In fact, I never even refer to it as s-e-x; in my world, it’s called making out, because apparently people can handle things better when they’re watered down. That’s why the term ‘sleep with’ is so popular — it sounds so much better than sex, even though it’s so ambiguous.
I “slept with” my husband before we were married. Literally, we slept in the same bed on occasion (sorry Cody’s mom!) However, once we were married we slept together a lot more… but there was never any *actual* sleeping unless I was mad at him or otherwise unable to sleep with him, in that case we’d actually sleep with each other. In fact, unless I’m out of town I sleep with him every night. I have a feeling a lot of us sleep with someone every night. There are some nights I sleep with cats, two at the same time. When I travel with friends I sleep with them. I’ve even slept with my sister before. SEE HOW INCONCLUSIVE AND MISLEADING SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE IS?
Watered down sex talk.
Yes, there’s still making out, which is just making out but let’s just keep those comparisons to baseball talk. First base, second base, third base, making out/home run.
Alright. Here’s my beef.
When I have admitted to enjoying human making practice with Cody, a lot of people get all squicked out. Sure, you can enjoy how cute my babies are now, BUT YOU KNOW HOW THEY GOT HERE RIGHT? A lot of practice, that’s how. That’s six years of secondary infertility for you folks, LOTS OF PRACTICE. If we looked at it as scheduled baby making sex, it was a terribly stressful and miserable undertaking. Frankly I’m quite pleased when I know my friends are in nice healthy relationships with lots of high quality boot knocking. I’ve never seen a single study that says “Regular sex in a monogamous relationship is a terrible, awful thing — quit it, quit it right now.” I’m happy. I love my husband. He has really nice biceps.
I hope you’re happy and in love with your partner too.
Back to the squicked out part.
Most of the people who comment “TMI um, gross” to my coded confessions are the same people who pay money to watch other people have sex (in movies, gutterbrain.) How much media is out there with gratuitous and unnecessary sex? (*cough* Game of Thrones *cough* Fifty Shades of Grey *hack*) People are losing their damn minds over Fifty Shades being turned into a movie, but do you even know how the author came up with the original concept for her books? She wanted Edward and Bella to shut up and do it already so she went ahead and wrote a book about them doing it, A LOT. There’s even tampons involved. TAMPONS. WOULD THERE EVEN BE A BOOK INVOLVED IF IT WEREN’T FOR ALL THE SEX? Absolutely not. No one reads those books because they are great literature, they read them because sexsexsexysexerson.
If anything we need more happily committed couples admitting that making out after x number of kids, graduate school, mortgages, student loans, and the loss of perky boobs can be just as fantastic as the making out we were doing in our younger, firmer and childless years. Look at Phil and Kay Robertson, 48 years of marriage and they still love making out with each other, makes me look forward to 48 years with Cody rather than dread 36 more years with the same. man. every. night.
So go ahead and be grossed out by regular people with regular waistlines and normal day jobs admitting to enjoying their love life, but know it’s hypocritical to be grossed out by real life physical relationships but totally on board with movie stars’ body doubles being paid to roll around on top of each other with video cameras rolling and directors suggesting their every scripted move.
Find more of Casey’s writing on her blog moosh in indy. She’s also available on twitter, facebook, flickr and Instagram. If you can’t find her any of those places? Check the couch, she’s probably taking a nap.