The long quiet drive home

I dread going home. It’s not that it’s terrible and half the time I am greeted by my giggling monsters, so I feel a bit relieved when I get there. But not lately. Usually he’s tired from work and from waiting up for me for sex. So he’s usually grumpy and the kids get his short fused attitude till I get home, plus they are starving. Lunch was 6 plus hours ago. So after working all day I stand for another 2 hours cooking dinner and cleaning messes before directing them to the bathroom. From there I referee the baths, tooth brushing,  and putting on jammies, all while he reads his nook. On occasion he will do the dishes or take out the trash, but usually it’s just enough to say he’s done something. Then he will come in, as I tuck them in, yell at them for some infraction, give them hugs and kisses and then head back to his recliner.

I look around at my house, at my life and it’s a mess. You can see how disheveled I am inside by the appearance of it on the outside. My yard is a mess. My house is in constant dissaray. I clean off the table just to have more piled on top. I’m the only one who bathes or feeds the animals and for the most part, the kids too. My bedroom looks like a clothing bomb went off. I know I am a messy person, but this is far from the slightly messy person I was when we got married. I just cannot keep up.

Right now I feel like  my life is on small earthquake mode with punctuations of calm. My heart is in my throat as I talk to my husband. I feel so false when I say I love him an cringe when he paws at me. He wants sex ALL THE TIME. I used to be ok with that. My drive was pretty high and demanding as well, but I was ignoring what I really wanted and placated myself with a wonderful person who always wanted to please me in bed. Who could say no to that? But everything revolves around sex for him. If he did something “for me” like clean up the kitchen after dinner and put away the dishes, I “owed him” something in return. It wasn’t as pressured as it sounds typing it, but he always felt that he deserved something for his help, while what I do must just be expected.

I refuse to be the source of anyone’s happiness unless I gave birth to them,
and even then it’s negligible.

So as I drive home my heart starts to beat harder and my small anxiety attack happens like clockwork. My heart heads north up to my throat and my hands start getting clammy. I think about how he’ll kiss me as I walk in and probably grab my ass. Then he’ll try for a more discreet grab while the children aren’t around. I will make up some excuse about needing to do something to get away. The attention is exhausting, especially as I am refereeing two hungry children in the meantime. He’ll then go in for a smoother move, kissing my neck with his scruffy beard. In the past, this would get me, but I’m so annoyed by being chased so often I again find another excuse.I feel like I’m just some thing to please him. A toy for him to play with and when I say no, he pouts and acts as if I were some terrible person. If he wanted to turn me on, he could go play with his children or cut up the damn onion.

I sometimes wonder if my sexuality and pull towards women is a result of my disdain. I know I have always been attracted to women all my life but now as I grow older the pull has become a lot stronger and my thoughts surface closer to women if I feel sexual at all. I’m always afraid to feel that way now because it will only be met by his hyper sex drive which immediately dampens my spirit. I just really rather be free to want it or not. I hate being constantly pressured to do things I don’t want to do, even if you’ve told me how beautiful I am.I’d like it if things just happened…hey maybe we hook up, maybe we don’t, but no pressure, really. With him, the end result is always about sex.

Me: “That was a sad movie, ugh.”
Him: “Yeah”
(He then grabs a boob)
Me: “What are you doing?”
Him: “Well, since the movie is over, I thought we’d mess around”
(He tries to unzip my pants as I’m still wiping my puffy eyes)
Me: “Can you at least wait till my eyes are dry and I’m some what in the mood?”
Him: “I’m going to take a shower”


(We’re both laying in bed, I’m still reeling from the news of my grandmothers death the day before. He faces me and grabs a boob. I sniffle.)
Him: “Hey”
Me: “Hey”
Him: “so????”
Me: “Sorry, just thinking about my grandma”
Him: “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
(He says this sincerely but then realizes he’s not gonna get any.)
Him: “Good night. Love you.”
(I lie there thinking, he would stay up for sex… but if it’s to talk…rarely.)


Me: Ugh my hands hurt. My carpal tunnel is acting up again tonight.
Him: Oh, really?
(what he’s thinking is, “shit, that means we might not do anything tonight”)


(I put on yoga sweatpants and cotton t-shirt.)
Him: “Why are you wearing those?”
(indicating to the pants)
Me: “They are comfy. Why?”
Him: “So I guess you don’t want to have sex huh?”
Me: “I’m just wearing sweatpants.”
(He lays there, hoping I’ll do something, anything.)
(I’m laying there waiting for at least a kiss.)
(He then grabs a boob)
(He paws at me for a while until I give in or piss him off, then he rolls over and pouts til he falls asleep.)

I refuse to be the source of anyone’s happiness unless I gave birth to them, and even then it’s negligible. I just want to be happy and have a  partner willing to put in their half without expecting me to carry them on my shoulders as well. I’m tired of pretending I’m happy. I’m tired of pretending I’m straight. I’m tired of pretending I like where I live. I’m tired of sex that I don’t really want in lieu of sex I am craving. i really don’t want a partner if all it creates is resentment.

I want to live and be free to express myself. I want some time to paint! I want some free time to just take in the world and not be overwhelmed by all the shit I have to get done. I know my life is busy, but I need to learn to say no. Maybe I can practice that on my long quiet drive home.


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  1. Oh sweetie, I know all of that.

    (Well, except the high sex drive part. I never had any of that until I started sleeping with women…now it’s fucking sky high and I’m worried no one will be able to keep up with me…)

    You’re at the end of your rope, my dear, and I’m officially worried about you.

    • Let me try to reframe that. Maybe it’s time you learned to say yes. Say yes to what you need. Say yes to what makes you feel like a full person. Say yes to the life you want to have. Change can be scary – believe me, I know! But I think it’s a trap to imagine that change is necessarily bad or dangerous. Change can be scary and *still* lead to good things. Better things. A better life.

      True – I don’t know you beyond your words here, but if this is an accurate representation of how you feel most of the time, it sounds to me like you are not happy. And that’s putting it mildly. Frankly, you sound miserable. And the question is – how long are you willing to live like that? A month? A year? The rest of your life? When is enough enough?

      I don’t mean to minimize the scope and scale of the changes you are contemplating. Yes, it will be A Very Big Deal. But not an insurmountable amount of change, either. I’ve gone through it. It sounds like the person replying above me has gone through it, too. You will not be alone in this, even if it feels like you are. The trail has been blazed and others have come out OK on the other end. You *can* do it, if and when you decide to.

      Two quotes come to mind.

      The first: Change will come when the pain of staying the same is worse than the pain of change. I don’t know who the hell said that but they sure got it right – for me, any way.

      And second: You must give up the life you planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you – Joseph Campbell.

      I’m wishing you peace.

      • (I didn’t really mean that as a reply to Singlein2012, I just wasn’t paying attention to which buttons I was pushing. As per usual…)

  2. Thank you both. My life is reflected here pretty accurately, except sometimes he is a big help. It comes in waves.
    I am unhappy and it wells up day by day and then he becomes super helpful and sweet and I let go of how I was feeling. It ebbs and flows with my sexuality somewhere in the mix. I don’t know if I’m just not attracted to him, or just men in general. When I think of perhaps swinging, I don’t want the husband, I want the wife…. so what does that tell you? Ugh.
    I will be flying home alone to my grandma’s funeral. That will give me some time to figure this crap out, but not much. I need a few months on a mountain somewhere.

  3. Oh Honey, I could have written this post word for word, except with one child. I wish I knew what to tell you. You’re not alone.

  4. Gut wrenching, and Honest

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