If we are to create a sex life which meets the demands that couples experience today, we need to define and perceive what occurs in the bedroom in a much more expansive way that includes all that we are as human beings. If we can remove judgmental thinking from the bedroom, even unsatisfactory sex can be respected as an expression of who we are and granted status alongside the more typically favored satisfactory sex.
You will not find unsatisfactory sex mentioned in any serious book on sex, except as something to get rid of or overcome.
Unsatisfactory sex is not a problem. The problem is definitions of sex that imply good or bad, worthy or unworthy, positive or negative &emdash; a bed where most of the sexual energy is hiding under it.
David Schnarch, author of "Constructing the Sexual Crucible," says that most of us do consensus sex. That is, we eliminate all behaviors from both partners that are not acceptable, and engage each other with what remains. Typically, that translates to a small list of presentable behaviors and expressions.
The non-judgmental approach to sex is based on the premise that the only interference to our sexual pleasure is refusing to accept the person who shows up in our bed. There is a perception that only certain behaviors are sexual and acceptable. The shift in thinking requires that we let go of the attachment to form and regard the energy as crucial.
These shifts in perception are especially difficult when experts regard certain experiences as problems and label them dysfunctional, inappropriate, dispassionate, unromantic or inconsiderate. It is no wonder that many couples feel tremendous pressure, anxiety, guilt and fear of exposure as they squeeze into the little space under their judgmental beds.
Like many women, Terry was struggling with feelings that were very unacceptable to her. After 15 years of marriage, she was feeling quite turned off sexually. She kept looking for a certain responsiveness from her husband, but she only experienced frustration. This often turned to resentment and a feeling of deadness. She dreaded his sexual approaches and constantly tried to avoid them with the usual excuses of feeling tired, got work to do, or just not into it. Yet she would feel guilty if she did this too long, and then it was obligation time. She would pressure herself to just do it, get through it and maybe take the pressure off for a while.
On a typical evening, she would fake interest and honor her sense of obligation, without ever mentioning her real thoughts and feelings. She hated the parts of her that participated in this charade, even though she tolerated her solution in the name of peace. It was certainly a passionless, dutiful event.
I told her to go home that night and say, "I want to have obligatory sex with you." No matter what his objections were, she was to state passionately that "I'm running up a debt with you, getting behind with my obligation. I owe you sex, and I don't want to get any more in debt." In spite of his mumbling, she was to start taking off his clothes, insist on sex, and in an excited, yet pleading voice, say how important it is that she repay him.
"Furthermore," I told her, "I want you to totally enjoy your obligatory self."
"You've got to be kidding," Terry initially responded. "Who says those kinds of things?" I stated that her choice was either this or deadness. She replied, "Even if I was willing, I'm not sure I even know how."
"All you need to do is allow yourself to be your obligatory self," I said, "and trust that you intuitively know what to say and how to do it."
Terry did what we modeled in the session. Because she played it straight and passionate with no defensiveness &emdash; I merely asked her to be who she already was &emdash; her husband, despite some initial surprise and reluctance, responded fairly quickly to her passion. They had obligatory sex twice that night. The next night, her husband asked, "Can we have obligatory sex again? That was the best sex we have had in a long time."
By presenting an alternative to the usual judgmental beds that exist in most bedrooms, couples can have a choice as to which bed they want to be in with their partners. The following can assist in distinguishing the two kinds of beds.
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In the accepting bed there is an appreciation for the absurd. Taking ourselves very seriously becomes suffocating, and the bedroom is especially vulnerable to such heaviness. By the time we've made certain we're physically correct, emotionally correct, sexually correct and politically correct, what's left of our passion?
Bringing the unacceptable to bed becomes much easier when an air of lightness and fun surrounds you. Appreciating the humor of our sexual tango is the most direct route I know to closeness and connection.
Individuals who can laugh at themselves in the presence of another have no need to defend or prove anything. They recognize that whatever their disguised behavior is protecting, the disguise isn't who they really are. When you appreciate the absurd, you can look at yourself without judgment, and there is no alternative but to love yourself.
Bruce Derman is a licensed clinical psychologist
with more than 25 years experience working with couples in all stages
of relationships. He has taught psychotherapy at several
universities, and is staff psychologist at the Men's Center of Los
Angeles. Dr. Derman's lectures and workshops are regularly held
throughout the U.S.
