We got married six months ago after dating for only nine months. When friends and family told me that nine months isn’t enough to know a person very well to marry her, I told them, “If nine months is enough to give birth to a whole human being, then it’s enough to give birth to a whole new marriage.” I could understand the reason behind their worries but I was the one getting married. If anything, I should be the one to be worried. I wasn’t worried. No single fiber in me questioned my decision to get married to Jacinta. In the nine months that we dated, We stayed very close to each other. There was not a single day that we didn’t hear from each other. She introduced me to her family on the third day of our relationship so I got closer to her family right from the start.
A family of seven—a mother and six children. The father died when Jacinta was only seventeen. When I asked why her mother didn’t marry again she told me; “What kind of man will marry a woman with six adults? Five troublesome boys who never stayed out of trouble? What kind of man?” I said, “It happens. Maybe if your mother opened up to other men, she would have found someone who was ready for a woman like her.” She said, “I’m glad she didn’t open up. I know my brothers and the troubles they bring. I’m happy no man took the trouble.”
Our first kiss was a disaster. It happened I think in the second week of our relationship. She licked my lips like the way dogs lick the feet of their owners. I asked her, “What are you doing?” She said, “A kiss. I’m kissing you.” I said, “You need to take your time. You need to relax the movement in your tongue. It shouldn’t be spread across my face. That’s not how to kiss.” She said, “It’s my first time.” I said, “No wonder.” After the kiss, she told me to work on my breath. I told her, “My breath doesn’t stink. It’s just that I’ve eaten a lot of onions today.” She said, “Well, then don’t kiss me when you eat a lot of onions.”
She got better. By the time we got to our fifth kiss (Yes I was counting because she didn’t allow me to kiss her often), her tongue was a little bit relaxed. It stayed in her mouth often. She used her lips on my lips. That was quite an improvement. I told her, “You’re now well cooked when it comes to kisses. Should I give you a certificate of competency?” She asked, “Where else would I practice my competency?” That ended the conversation.
Sex was something we couldn’t get to do. She wouldn’t allow me no matter how sweet my words were and how sweet I made her feel. She will always say no to me. When we kissed and I tried to push my hand towards the honeypot, she would fold her thighs and trap my hand in between them. She would then start to squeeze my hand until I yell; “Hey stop, you’re hurting my hand.” She would ask, “What’s your hand doing there? I’ve always told you to relax the movement in your hand. It shouldn’t be walking towards my honeypot. That’s not how to kiss a girl.”
I knew she was paying me back for the things I said when we first kiss. As time went on, I learned to relax the movement in my hand while kissing. I said, “We’ve kissed. We’ve touched. We’ve hugged. What else haven’t we done? You’ve allowed everything so why is it that when my hand travels a little, you block it and try to hurt me?” She said, “We won’t go that far until we are married. You’ve taught me a lot of bad things. I’m grateful. But that’s where it ends. We won’t learn any new things until we are married.” I asked, ”Does it mean you haven’t done it before?” She said, “If I had, you would have seen the evidence in the way I kissed you the first time. So many things we’ve done were my first time. When we end up married, there would be another first time—one last first time.”
It’s part of the reason I couldn’t wait to get married to her.
Our first time was on our honeymoon. Again, it was a disaster. The next morning, I had a call from her mother. She said, “My daughter has made a complaint to me about the way you handled her last night.” I turned and looked at my wife. She was seated in the hotel chair, biting into a huge chunk of bread. Her mother continued, “You have to take your time with her. She told me it’s her first but you were very rough with her so she’s having pains all over. I beg you. She’s all I have. Don’t kill her for me.”
I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say. I asked, “Jacinta told you all that? When? Because we woke up not too long ago?” She said, “She called me late last night. She said she couldn’t sleep because of the pain. She needed someone to talk to so she called me.” I was quiet for a while. I was looking for the right words to say to my in-law. I ended up telling her I was sorry and it wasn’t going to happen again. She said, “I’m not saying you should stop but when she complains of pains, please listen to her.” When I dropped the line, I asked my wife, “So what time last night did you call your mother?” She said, “When you were snoring. I couldn’t sleep.” I asked, “And you told her all those things?” She said, “She’s my mother. What can’t I tell her? I tell my mother everything. Our first kiss and everything that happened, I told her.”
I was supposed to be angry but that anger turned into amazement. I said, “Jacinta, I was lying right next to you. I was only sleeping. I wasn’t dead. You could have woken me up to tell me whatever the issue was. You’re a married woman now. I’m for you and you’re for me. Whatever link you have with your mother. Whatever conversation you have with her. Whatever secret you tell her should cease. I’m now your mother and everything just as you’re my mother and everything. Let that sink in. What you told your mom was embarrassing to me. I don’t want it to happen again.”
She didn’t say anything. She kept biting into the chunk of bread as though she hadn’t eaten for years.
Six months after marriage, the drama still continues. She calls her mom and tells her everything. The argument we’ve had, the things I’ve told her, the fight I had in the office and I told her. Everything. She still tells her mother about our sex life. Honestly, we haven’t had it easy with intimacy. She’s always not prepared. I would have to coerce her, pamper her and sometimes even sing to her before she opens up. She always complains of pain; “You’re killing me. Is that how the thing is? Is that how every husband does to his wife? Why is mine this painful.” Each night that we do something, this girl will sing of pain as the canary sings about its day. The next thing you know, she’ll pick the phone and tell her mother.
Her mother was in our house recently. She came to find out why after six months of marriage her daughter still complains of pains. I told her, “I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I don’t have to sleep with her again so all this will come to an end but how do I live with my wife without intimacy? Is that possible? Her mother said, “The problem is your ‘joystick.’ Did you take drugs to make it grow bigger? She says the size isn’t normal. She tells me it’s the size that scares her. That’s why she can’t keep her mind at ease anytime time it gets there.”
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When my in-law left, I sat with my wife and had a heartfelt conversation with her. There was nothing new to tell her. Everything I told her that day was something I had already told her; “Don’t tell your mother about our sex life, it’s embarrassing to me and to you as a woman. You’re your own woman. Your mother can’t solve for you what you couldn’t solve for yourself. I’m your husband. I’m the first person you talk to about your problems and not your mom. What else does your mother know about me? The size of my intestines? Why would you do that to me? A man you call your husband.”
The annoying thing is, when the conversation gets intense, she doesn’t say anything but would later go ahead and do exactly what you asked her not to do. I’m tired. I’m embarrassed. I sleep in the same bed with my wife but I can’t touch her. If I do, her mother will hear about it and call to ask why I was rough with her daughter. What option is available to me? I know most people will sing the usual slogan; ”Talk to her…” I have. On different occasions but nothing changes. What can I do to break that communication link between my wife and her mother?
–Zico
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