A friend of mine wrote: “As soon as I moved in with him, our sex life began to dwindle. First once a week, and now maybe once every four to six months. I wanted to keep open communication about it so that we wouldn’t end up where we are today, which is a very sexless relationship. It is not even about the sex, but the intimacy at this point. He is stressed out, never happy, never available for me, works seven days a week if he can, always trying to catch up, and by the time he does come home or does take a day off, he is so exhausted that he has nothing left in him except to relax. And he has gained about 35 pounds in the last three years. I’m bored. Questioning everything. Although I look at him and love him with all I’ve got, I am lost on what to do.”

Oh, honey, do I know how you feel. Don’t marry him! Don’t even think about it!

It’s a relief somewhat to know that there are other women out there who are going through what I went through. The questioning. The desperation. The wondering what the future would be like if things continued as they were.

And finally, the bitterness, the realization that both partners have to be willing to work on it. The falling out of love. The death of the future.

If there is one thing I learned in all that painful time, it was to be true to myself and my own sexuality. To work hard to feel beautiful and sexual and worthwhile. I made mistakes this girl may yet avoid – I did the marriage thing, and in the process felt like I’d sacrificed my sexuality on the altar of my marriage vows. And it was a long road back to being comfortable with my sexuality again.

DT, I hope you work it out.