Published in Relationships     2 comments – join the discussion!

Before I knew it, I was headed into conjugal hell. I had barely finished going to my prom and graduating from high school and here I was planning a wedding. It should have been a time for me to discover what young adults should be discovering, I should not have been heading on a honeymoon at the pubescent age of 19. What was I thinking? I’ve come to the awareness that the main reason I was so miserable while I was married was how hum-drum my sex life was. (Ok, and possibly the fact that I didn’t love him and I had absolutely ZERO chemistry with the man). I can’t even declare that I had a magnificent sensual honeymoon.

We went to France and all I can remember is arguing over the fact that my husband refused to take any ‘naughty’ photos of me in our hotel room. Now keep in mind that although I had not been swept away by love, I still had deep desires and fantasies that I knew I wanted to have come to fruition. The sad thing was that I was too naïve to recognize that those fantasies would never come to life with him. The honeymoon was over even before it began…damn, we were still in France.

It should have been a warning to me when our key didn’t fit into our hotel room door. Two keys, rather. We had the first one replaced only to find the second one didn’t fit either. How wonderful to watch my then husband, deal with that little dilemma. But we did finally get a key that fit our door to our beautiful hotel room (small miracles do happen). It couldn’t get any more romantic that this. A dark four-post wooden bed laden with sheer drapes and the most breathtaking view you could possibly ever imagine. I don’t know about you, but that alone gets me going and I would think sex in that environment has to be absolutely mind blowing. It seems that for my ex however, that environment is meant for showering, napping and room service. It took three days before he decided he wanted to have sex with me. Jet lag is a killer apparently.

So when that pivotal moment happened for me, I was more than ready. I of course at this point was attentive to the fact that this was “the night”, as he had come to bed with no underwear on. Oh, how exciting for me! Since we had been site-seeing quite a bit over the first three days of our honeymoon, I was very familiar with our camera. He attempted gracelessly to get me in the mood. While he did that, I looked over to our end table and noticed the camera just sitting there. My mind had wonderful erotic thoughts instantly…”Hey, grab the camera.” He froze. Instantly he stopped what he was doing and asked why on earth would I want photos of us screwing our brains out (what an oxymoron that statement was) on our honeymoon? I tried to explain that maybe we could just take a couple and see how it felt, it might be enjoyable. He tore into me saying that I had absolutely no morals and that certain things were sacred even between a husband and wife. I let the topic go and we made love (ha!). That was my first and last moment of hot and heavy sex on my honeymoon. He didn’t touch me again while we celebrated our wedded bliss in France.

With all of my past experiences, including ones from marriage, I’d probably call myself a memoirist. I’d imagine my ex mother-in-law would definitely call me a whore. She would have been traumatized to know her son’s wife wanted to take nude photos of herself on her honeymoon and went to his brother’s wedding commando. But what I realized is that I held off being me for so long because of what I would have been construed as by others.

What have I learned twenty years later? I had to deal with the disillusionment of marriage, but more over, I had to deal with my stupidity of marrying at a young age for the wrong reasons. By making such a major life changing decision, I lived with fantasies of what it could have been like. That one incident in France changed me forever. I became troubled by my desires and almost introverted in that area.

My regrets are many and I find myself feeling that I missed out on important milestones in my life. I cannot go back in time. I cannot recreate any of those peak moments in life that should stay with you, because certain things are just once in a life time. Oh the glories if I could go back in time. My choices would have been so different, so much stronger I would have stood. But here I am, and I truly feel I am stronger for it nonetheless.

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Comments

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1

Chloe

Posted on June 13, 2008, 9:22 am

At some point in our lives we all wish we could go back in time and change things, do things we wish we had, or stop ourselves from doing something that we now regret having done. I applaud your strength in creating a new life for yourself, and thereby discovering the real you!

2

swan

Posted on June 19, 2008, 8:05 pm

Well Isabelle, while the statement you refer to in your first paragraph is not an example of an oxymoron, I understand how you thought he was moronic. Perhaps you should have told him of your exhibitionistic ways before you got married. He may have also thought he was getting something different than he got in you. Communication is a glorious thing...when we do it!! ;)

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