Men — this is going to be a post about something ‘girlie’. Consider that your warning and stop here if you don’t want to be too grossed out — but maybe you should read to the end anyway, because I kind of have a question…
Last week I mentioned that there was a “bad part” to our date night last Tuesday. It’s feels silly to me, but I want to talk about it because I totally didn’t know how to react and I definitely reacted badly (I think I am more ready now for when it happens again).
I am going to be 42 next week (the perfect age: the meaning of life) and my mother keeps telling me that I am going to “get menopause” any time now. I think it’s adorable (not!) how she talks about it like it’s a horrible disease or something.
Apparently “early menopause” it runs in the family and she just wants to make sure that I am keeping with the trend (my mother and I aren’t close AT ALL so this would be the VERY LAST thing on the planet that I want to talk to her about — I just read that women don’t even talk about this with their doctors!). Anyway…
Loverman woke up next to me in the middle of the night last Tuesday and tried, very amorously, to wake me up as well. It took me a few minutes to realize what was happening and sadly, Vanilla was fast asleep and didn’t want to have anything to do with Coconut. *I* sure did, but Vanilla was totally dessicated and she wasn’t about to let anything (or anyone) change that! I started to get physically uncomfortable after about 10 minutes and after about 10 more I started getting very upset with myself. Eventually, I had to ask Loverman to stop. It was sad (I was sad)…
I got so upset with myself, in fact, that I started crying and (felt like I) needed to leave the bed. Loverman didn’t take it personally and was beckoning to me to get back into bed with him so at least we could cuddle. At the time, I wanted no such thing.
For about 15 minutes I just sat in the chair across the room from the bed, sulking like a baby. Thoughts were spinning around in my head and I didn’t know which ones to listen to. I had just been woken up to something glorious and sexy, but my traitorous body had rejected it. I was so angry at Vanilla that all I could do was fight back the tears of failure.
I was completely upset with my hormones (or lack of). I felt betrayed by my own body!
I was thinking about how much of a let down I was (both to myself and to Loverman), knowing the entire time, that I wasn’t letting anyone down, it is just my body changing.
I was frustrated as hell that I wasn’t able to perform sexually for/with my partner and he was really into me that night.
But, it didn’t take long before I wanted to get back into the warm bed with Loverman and feel his strong, forgiving arms around me. I can’t believe how emotional I get about such uncontrollable things. I curled up next to him, with tears in my eyes. He had fallen back to sleep (see?!?!? It didn’t bother him at all! He didn’t take it personally…) and woke briefly when I crawled back into bed. “It’s okay, Mamacita. We can try again in the morning,” and he curled up behind me, drawing both his arms around me and he held me tightly in his arms as we both drifted back off to slumberland.
Is this how men feel when they can’t get it up?