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Kats story continued.
Kats story continued.
Hopefully I won't have a problem with getting this one posted. I did with the previous blog.
I married hubby in 1967.
I had come from a family that did not show love. I can not ever remember my parents hugging, or kissing each other in front of us. I do not remember them ever hugging or kissing me or my sister.
So what did I know of love. I knew nothing. My main reason for marrying was because at the ripe old age of 21 hubby was the only man that had asked me. My mother wanted me gone. She pushed hubby onto me, so when he asked I said yes.
I had at last made my mother happy but in the process of making her happy I made my life unhappy. I was 21 going on 15 with no knowledge of what marriage, and a lifetime commitment was. (In those days you stayed married, no matter what)
Hubby is not a bad man. He is nice. But he was too much like my mom for me ever to accept him. He needed to control my life. He needed me to be his one and only friend and lover and never to complain. He wanted me to be like his mother. I did try for awhile. Canning, baking, making the special home made pies, cooking for him, etc. But it was never enough. He always found something to complain about. He loved home made pies. Apple being his favorite, so I would make them from scratch and when the crust on the pie would not settle onto the apples he would get mad because that's not what his mothers looked like. I just couldn't get the top crust to lay on the apples. It stood up above the filling every time. This sounds so stupid as I am re reading it. But I will keep it in anyway.
In our first years of marriage we had many long drawn out fights, mostly words but on some occasions it got physical. During a close fight once I bit him on the shoulder and he threw me against a wall. Mostly I would get mad and slam a door, or throw something against a wall. As time went by we settled into a routine. He would go off to work and I would sleep all day because I was a night person and stayed up all night. Most of our fights revolved around sex and the lack of it on his part. I complained a lot about that.
I asked him early on if we could watch a porno flick, he said no, that that type of movie wasn't for women to see. Yeah right is what I thought. I finally just said get one, I want to watch it and that was that.
I am like a mule sometimes. You can pull, and kick all you want but I am just not going to do what ever it is your asking me to do, if I don't want to.
He wanted control over everything in his life and for many years he had it until I got pregnant. I had my one and only son at age 30. By then I was asking question about my childhood and why I was raised the way I had been, and why my mother thought I was dumb and why she did the things she did.
I never wanted children. I knew down deep somewhere that bringing a child of ours into the world just wasn't a good thing. He on the other hand wanted someone to carry on his family name. Now, isn't that a good reason to have a kid.
While I was pregnant sex stopped. I would bag, plead come up with new ways, anything to no avail. It was during the last 3 months that hubby brought up the subject of anal sex. All you mothers out there will understand that starting anal sex at 6 months pregnant isn't a good idea. It's hard enough to find a comfortable way to sleep and your back hurts, and your tired and grouchy so anal sex then was a no no. But I did think about it, and after my son was born I learned as much as I could about the do's and don'ts and said yes, we can try it. Course it took awhile for it to be comfortable with me. He loved it. He loved it so much that that became his favorite sex act. Did it change the amount of times he wanted sex. nope. Still once a week if I was lucky.
The thing that bothered me so much about the lack of sex with him, was that he would masturbate 2-3 times a week instead of having sex with the woman he said he loved. Someone please tell me, what man prefers masturbating over the real thing, especially since I was willing to try new things?
There was also the lack of any romance on his part. I tried so many times, with dinners, candles in the bedroom, sex in the backyard, toys added for our pleasure, which in the end became my pleasure and so many things I can't even remember them all. He stopped kissing me.Period. Nothing ever. He never held my hand. He never cuddled. He never even did a loving swat on my butt. Nothing.
I always knew when he wanted real sex though. He would get this stupid grin on his face, oh how I grew to hate that look. He would wear his dirty yellow robe on Sunday mornings. He would get up early and go out to the living room and watch a porno movie then come back to bed. Sex for him was a once in awhile thing that he had to do to keep me happy. That's how I looked at it.
To be continued.
Take care everyone