If LD's can not desire. then what?

[eyesopened]

Corri,
I can understand how you came to your conclusions based on what I've posted. And, what you said really got me thinking about some of the dynamics in my marriage. But, in thinking back over the years of our marriage and remembering what my therapist said (that my biggest issue is trust), what you said made me realize that I'm not cyclical because I don't invite my husband to come closer. I allow him to come close, but I'd never invite him. He's always been the pursuer, which is more comfortable for me.

And, I think that's the source of the anxiety I'm feeling now. I'm putting myself in a position where I'm vulnerable to rejection, where I'm doing something that feels very unnatural and uncomfortable for me.

I've been trying to think of an analogy, and the closest I can come up with is a dog that's been abused as a puppy. In another post, I used the term "dog happy" referring to how most dogs, including the one we have now, love physical touch such as having their bellies rubbed and being scratched behind the ears, how they'll come up and stand with their tails wagging and a doggy grin expecting and waiting for that physical attention, how a dog that's receiving attention like that gets a blissful look on its face and won't leave until you stop, and now easy it is for us to give attention like that to our dogs rather than to our spouses.

My husband has said that he's like our dog. But, in thinking about what you've read, I realize that I'm not. I used to think I was more like our cat, who's aloof, who'll LET you pet her as though she's doing you a big favor, who'll bite you if you try to pet her when she doesn't want to be petted, etc.

But, I'm not really like our cat either. She simply isn't an affectionate lapcat, and she's very content with her life.

I think instead that I'm like a dog my family had when I was a child that had been abused as a puppy. When we first adopted him, he'd watch us with a wistful or longing look but would run or walk away if you approached him. In the beginning, you could sometimes coax him to come close by offering treats and he would allow you to pet him. His tail would wag (more like a few thumps), and it was obvious that he liked being petted but was uncomfortable. You could never come up on him unexpectedly and pet him or he would turn around and snap or growl at you after which he would stand there shaking expecting to be kicked. After a while, he got to the point that you could approach him and pet him, and he'd even sometimes walk toward you (but never all the way) and wag his tail a couple of times, which was his way of letting you know that you could pet him. But, no matter how much he wanted or craved affection such as petting, he'd never be able to run up to us with complete abandon, tail wagging, expecting to be petted like the dog I have now.

Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, I felt a kinship with the dog my family had. I was in high school and my family was falling apart with my parents arguing all the time and talking divorce and the kids in the family being ignored. Unexpected high medical bills for one of my sisters had also shifted the entire responsibility of paying for college on me. We lived near a fairly secluded beach (no houses directly on the beach either), and I could walk around there for hours because it was beautiful and relaxing. And, I discovered our dog's "love language"--long walks. We had a yard, so he didn't have to be walked; but I'd usually take him with me for the company and because I sometimes think out loud and you don't look as crazy if you're talking to your dog rather than thin air. And, we'd walk for miles and stop and sit for awhile before starting back home. I'd sit there thinking and sometimes talking to our dog; and he'd sit there next to me and let me pet him with a happy doggy smile on his face and his tail wagging (except when he was happily chasing seagulls). And, at home, I'd walk past him and tell him what a good dog he was and he'd thump his tail a few times and let me pet him; but he never was able to just get up and come to me expecting or asking to be petted. But, he would sometimes run to the door when he saw me and wag his tail, which I assume was his way of saying he wanted to go for a walk.

So, I think the point of this is that I'm like that dog in many ways. Sex itself, meaning the physical part of it, isn't the problem, and I'm lucky in that I've never had flashbacks like some women who have been molested do. Intimacy and trust are the real problems.

But, people aren't dogs; and I've reached a point (my epiphany) where I recognize that I've hurt and rejected my husband by my behavior and attitude and that I can no longer blame him for all the problems in our marriage as before. I've been in therapy, I know that I have a problem trusting, I know the root cause or causes, and I'm tired of just talking and analyzing while nothing really changes. And, what I'm doing now and have been doing since last Thursday is putting myself in a vulnerable position where he can reject me. In doggy terms, I want and really need his attention and I'm finally willing after all these years (and he has shown me over and over that I can trust him) to come all the way to him to ask for his attention and to offer him my attention without being asked, but it's not natural for me and it's extremely uncomfortable (as Michele suggests in her books, I'm finally "doing").