Mercy F-ing and Marital Sadism
Sweet mercy. Last night, I finished reading Chapter 11 of Passionate Marriage. It may very well have been life changing. I was about mercy fucking - and the author pulls no punches and calls it just that. This book is not for the uneducated or the faint of heart. I had thought that word in my head before, but I thought it was so coarse and vulgar that I tried to conjure up more polite terms. But taken at face value, it is just that. It is not meant to be hard-core vulgar, just brutally honest.My heart sank, but my hope rose as I read every word of that chapter carefully. As the author described the couple in the example, I saw Michael and I trying to navigate our marriage and our sexual intimacy. And I saw myself in the man's position - "a perfect lapdog willing to be owned by anyone who would have him". I saw my husband in the woman's position as she stated that she would be perfectly content to never have sex again - but she expected her husband would not leave her, because, as she put it, "If he loved me, he would not pressure me to have sex with him and wait until I am ready." He, of course, saw this would never happen. And the longer he "waited", the more "pressure" she felt, even if he said nothing. And within a week, he exploded. Oh Lord - this was me. He was a lot like me - afraid of letting go and forcing his partner to choose - between holding out from him, and staying married to him. No, there were plenty of little differences between us and the couple described in the book. One not so little difference is the reversal of the gender roles. I would love to read an account of a woman who wants a healthy, robust sex life and a husband who is withholding sex from her because he just "isn't ever in the mood".
This chapter also addressed the issue of marital sadism. Oh, sweet mercy. This was us too. I didn't know the ways Michael has been hurting me intentionally, but I had some guesses. I sure could start to identify all the ways I purposefully tried to hurt him. Some things that came to mind I wasn't even sure about because I was certain I had tried to hurt him in so many ways that I had lost track of my attempts. So often we tell each other, "I would never intentionally hurt you - never, ever." Again, marital bullshit. We are vindictive, vengeful, and selfish people. And we like it when we see others get their comeuppence.
I am sure Michael has, on more than one occasion, withheld sex from me in order to hurt me. It is less of a weapon when I say I'm not interested. When I said I wouldn't settle for lizard-level sex, he tried to lash out in other ways. He sulked and moped around, and I'm sure he loved watching me grow more and more angry. And I would leave the house to get away from it - giving him what he wanted - silent solitude, privacy, and freedom. He had won the battle. He had been able to express his anger without actually "loosing his temper" which he prides himself on not doing. His passive aggression suited him well. He could remain calm and quiet and lash out at me at the same time.
My sadism was and is much more visible. I make comments and nonverbal gestures to indicate my disgust. I pull away when he attempts to make a move toward me in order to say, "See what it feels like, moron! Doesn't feel very good, does it?" I wanted him to feel pain and rejection and hurt like I'd felt when he neglected me and took me for granted and mistreated me. I was going to teach him a lesson. And the more times he evaded my attempts, the more I struggled to hurt him. And I was killing myself in the process and becoming more and more dependent on him for my validation. I was becoming less differentiated by the day - and he knew he had me. He was smart enough to know I was intimidated and scared to really assert myself and leave. I threatened, but I did not act. I stomped around, but I did nothing to better my situation.
I read the story in the book about the couple, and how the wife has spent 3 years in therapy to try to determine the cause of her low libido - all to no avail. Her husband waited. Only to find out all along that she loved to fuck - just not him - she was punishing him and loving the pain and frustration it inflicted. I swear, if I had been that man and I found out that my wife really did like sex but withheld from me for three years just to hurt me, I'd have stood up and said, "You miserable conniving bitch!" and walked out. How low can you stoop? It's one thing to self-destruct, but when you pull someone else down with you, that's something different.
My guess is my husband's sex drive and libido are just fine. I'd put money on the fact that he'd love to fuck (in the book's definition of it) as much (if not more) than I would. I'll bet he craves eroticism and sensuality, but it scares him to death. I'll be he enjoys my body, but is so angry with me for destroying everything good in his life (his career, privacy, freedom, and solitude), that he intends to make me just as miserable as he is. I would not be surprised to find out that not only is he clinically and severely depressed, but that he is sadistic enough to want me to be as miserable as he is. After all, misery loves company - even those loners like my husband.
posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 6/07/2005 01:19:00 PM
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