I can’t wait to marry my boyfriend, but I do have one major concern: I’m worried that our solid sex life will suffer once we say “I do” and I’m not sure I’m ready for our bedroom game to go south.
- Statistically speaking, married couples have less sex. The older you get, it seems the less you have sex. Older married couples have less sex than those that are simply partnered up, so why not just skip the vows? If the research is telling me this now, why not save ourselves the heartache of future sexless nights?
- Our sex life is going to become public property. Why is it that when a couple gets married, their sex life is suddenly up for discussion? I’ve watched as my friends get married and their private lives get dissected by all who show up on the day of their wedding. Groomsmen razzing the groom about “hitting that” and even stooping to making comments about it during public speeches. I hope hell freezes over before my mother makes any comments about my partner and me together in bed. Plus, I’m pretty sure I’d die if his mother made any sort of comment to me about pleasing him. Even the thought of it is a total turn-off.
- Marriage seems to automatically equal kids and I’m definitely not ready for motherhood. The fear of facing an unplanned pregnancy is enough to kill the mood for anyone. If all of a sudden I get married and everyone starts asking when we plan to have kids, I might stop being turned on altogether. Do they realize that the term “trying” means that we’re doing it practically every night until something sticks? To be honest, I’m not even sure I want kids—I’d rather just have a solid sex life.
- The idea that we’re perpetuating a stereotype is kind of a bummer. The idea that a couple is only truly dedicated and serious about one another when they get married really irks me, and the rebel in me wants to be totally against marriage altogether. The idea that I’m playing into it even though I hate it makes me feel kinda dead inside. I want to prove to the world that my boyfriend and I are happy as-is rather than killing all the magic just for the sake of a piece of paper.
- Wedding planning= stress, which means no sex. We all know that the amount of stress you have in your life is a direct link to libido. Therefore, why bring on the horrific nightmare of wedding planning if that means that I’ll become so stressed that I can’t relax enough to be horny? Am I the only woman out there that seems to feel this way? If I have to stay up all night to put decorations together, I will be in no mood to be intimate with my guy.
- The “celibate” time before your wedding is a thing. Is this a normal thing? Most of my girlfriends have set an amount of time before the wedding that they quit getting it on with their future husband. I understand the sentiment is to make the night of the wedding more special and all of these girls said they are so glad they waited, but personally, I don’t think I want to wait that long—and I can tell you for a fact that my boyfriend doesn’t want to. It’s all just too weird and forced.
- No more harmless flirting with random guys. Currently, my hand is ringless, which opens up a certain type of conversation with guys. I’m not saying I’m open for business, but attitudes change depending on how showy you are about your relationship. Sometimes I like to give an extra smile to the young waiter to get an extra bread basket. These little instances make me excited and I go home and let it out on my guy. That kind of weird, pent-up energy will have to end once we say “I do.”
- Marriage is connected to being overweight. Yup, that’s right, marriage can cause weight gain. If I fall victim to this statistic, either my partner or I could gain weight. For starters, I don’t exactly see the “dad bod” as a turn-on. And admittedly, my self-image is linked to my libido, which means less sex for me because of lack of comfort in my own skin. Ugh, this just gets worse and worse.
- There’s still a part of me that wants it all. At the end of the day, the little girl inside of me still wants the big day. Having the odds stacked against us makes the fight seem more fun. In the end, I still want to wear the white dress, to call him my husband, to spend the rest of our lives sharing a health insurance policy. I just don’t want our sex life to suffer—is that so wrong?
