Today was an unqualified disaster. It’s my fault for having expectations and looking for outside validation. On the plus side, I’m able to recognize that it’s my issue and I was able to self-validate enough that I didn’t fall apart.
All week long, I’ve looked forward to attending an art fair with my husband. After I told him that I needed for us to go on a date, he reluctantly agreed to go. We rarely go anywhere other than to lunch and the grocery store on Saturdays, so I woke up excited. I took extra time in the shower, put on makeup, styled my hair, put in my contacts, and spent more than 30 seconds deciding what to wear. In other words, I treated it like it was a date.
I looked damn good today, too. I’ve lost enough weight that I finally fit into my Chicos jeans, one of my weight loss goals. I’m thin enough to be able to close my buttery soft black lambskin leather jacket. I have all new makeup and the proper brushes to apply it. I do not have a single wrinkle on my face in spite of being 46. I felt sexy and beautiful.
He had to work for a bit this morning, so when I was dressed and ready, I texted to let him know. When he got home and came inside to change shirt and shoes, I pointed out that I was in my Chicos jeans, to which he responded, “Uh huh.” I not so passively and only slightly aggressively said, “Wow honey, you look beautiful today and really good in those jeans.” He laughed and said he would just let me compliment myself because I’m better at it. I let that slide because I wanted to have fun today.
It continued with him informing me that he gave up his “people who work on Saturday” free lunch. I was truly appreciative that he would rather have lunch with me than with his workmates that he eats with three to five days a week. At least, I chose to interpret it that way.
We got to the fair and he complained about the music. The music wasn’t part of the event we were attending, plus it was awful, so I let that slide, too. The fair was tiny and we were in and out in minutes, so I suggested we go to a little tea room downtown for lunch. It’s one of my favorite places and their food is incredible. It’s not cheap, but it’s not expensive, either. I think $26 including tip is nothing for a lunch date.
He complained about the price. He complained about his sandwich. He did like his soup. Finally, I told him that he was acting like my mother, who could never find anything good to say about the places that I would pick whenever we would eat out. A restaurant would have to be her idea or she would be rude to the staff and bitch about the food.
At that point, I gave up. I ate my salad in silence and tried not to cry as I processed the day in my head. I knew that having expectations was a recipe for disaster, but I thought this was such a simple thing, surely it wasn’t asking too much. We go to lunch all the time and have wonderful conversations, so that should have been the easy part, but it wasn’t. I finished my salad and we left and came straight home where I promptly put on my pajamas and laid down for a nap. Being sad makes me tired, so I ended up sleeping for four hours.
To me, a date with someone with whom I am in a relationship is essentially foreplay. Stimulating conversation with an attractive man is arousing for me. I’ve been having too many fantasies about flirting lately, and I wanted to have an affair with my husband. The entire time I was getting dressed, I imagined how our day would end, but as each moment of the day played out exactly opposite of how I wanted it to go, sex got further and further from my mind.
When he didn’t compliment me when he got home, I didn’t make a big deal of it because I know that he doesn’t understand how nice it is to be sexually appreciated. But I remember other dates with other guys who told me I was beautiful and sexy and looked amazing in whatever outfit I was wearing.
When I fell in love with a relatively pricey pair of earrings ($30 for punched tin ovals), I decided not to get them and walked away. I kinda wished that he would insist on buying them for me, but he didn’t. That was fine as I know money is a touchy subject with him, but I remember other dates with other guys who did insist on getting me whatever little trinket I coveted while shopping together.
When he did not engage in any conversation with me at the restaurant, I did not take it personally. We talk all the time and have great conversations, and a marriage shouldn’t be judged by a single afternoon. I wished he would talk to me about movies (even though he thinks they all suck) or politics or even his new computer parts that he just bought. I know flirting isn’t his favorite thing, but I remember other dates with other guys where the time was filled with flirtatious, sexually charged banter and we couldn’t wait to leave a place and get to somewhere safe to rip each other’s clothes off.
Fortunately, I also remember that I didn’t end up with other guys for all the same reasons that I did marry my husband. He is good, kind, ethical, hard working, and wicked smart. I have no doubts that he loves me, finds me attractive, and wouldn’t mind if I truly wanted to buy a $30 pair of earrings. However, I understand why affairs happen. I understand that desperate desire to feel that falling in love feeling, even when you’re not actually falling in love. I understand wanting to be wanted. At least I know I never, ever have to worry about my husband having an affair though, as he’d never get a second date, or even manage to get to the end of the first one.
Today, I did learn that it is much better for me to go somewhere alone, have a fantastic time, and come home in a great mood. I also learned that trying to push my husband beyond his comfort zone is asking too much, even if it doesn’t seem that way to me. I remembered that looking good is something I should do for myself, not for someone else. I remembered that fantasy is called fantasy because it’s something that’s unlikely to happen, otherwise it would be reality. And I learned to stop waiting for someone to ask me to dance, even if that someone is my husband.