I am LD, and the last thing I would call myself is dysfunctional. I don't have a problem, and I never did. The habitual chaos came from me buying into someone else's opinions of me, and therefore, I lived in constant conflict.
The day I accepted myself for who and what I was, with no guilt associated with that acceptance, is the day my life changed. I no longer gave on someone else's terms, on someone else's watch, according to someone else's standards or expectations. I give, and give more, because it makes me feel good. Period. If a by-product of that giving makes my H feel good as well, then so much the better. But I do NOT give to meet his needs. I give to meet MY need to give.
I have found that the more I give, the more I love. And the more I experience love, the more I want to give. I practice it every day. Some days I do it better than others. Some days I fall flat on my ass. But because I can now own who I am and what I want to be, I get up everyday and try the best that I am able. I give to experience my love. That giving will take various forms, and it's not always sex.
For me, loving also means accepting graciously that which my H gives to me. Like me, he will give better on some days than others. But each day he tries his best. For me to stand and criticize him of his efforts is to cruelly spurn that which has been given honestly and with love.
Who the hell am I to judge him and tell him that today, his best just ain't good enough? How could I, in claiming to love someone, say to them, "Your giving today just didn't fill up my cup, and it hasn't come close to meeting MY needs in a long, long time. I'll tell you what, you'd better start paying attention baby because I don't know how long I can take your half-assed attempts."
Have I not cringed and wallowed in that poison myself? Do I not know first hand the misery of such contempt?
The day my misery stopped is the day I stopped being miserable.
