….Or Passionate Marriage.
Nic was interesting. Neither one of us particularly liked him. We didn’t dislike him either. He was a proponent of the David Schnarch method. At this point in our relationship, there was no problem sexually, and we were very close and connected We always were. Sex was always mind-blowing for me, the whole time we had been together, it was a connected and totally fulfilling experience. Rog says he was the same, it was always pretty great with me, he had never connected and enjoyed sex with anyone as much as he did with me. It was erotic, and we made love often, most days throughout the then twenty-three years we had been together. We were the fully engaged, eye gazing, passionate-kissing, erotic, intimately connected couple. We were – especially me – adventurous, always happy to try and suggest new things.
Nic got us to do a few exercises, after he had delved into the FOO stuff and we had worked out where we both stood with regards to the way we were set up by our families. I already had a good grip on all of this stuff, it wasn’t hard for me to talk about it, or to process any of it. Roger, on the other hand, realised he had taken a lot of stuff as given, and never given it any real thought. He is a youngest child, and only son, of parents who were not passionate, just really partnered in life. His dad is a lot older, a really nice man, I think he loves his mum, but is in his mid-80s, so has all that era’s baggage in rural New Zealand to deal with. Of Scottish Presbyterian stock. Be staunch, don’t complain, work hard, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. His mother is ten years younger, is intelligent, a trained school teacher who never really worked in the field, married at 20. She could have been anything in a different era, with the right support, ended up with three kids at 24, and spent a lot of Roger’s childhood “floppy” – that was what Roger was told, by his sisters and his dad when she took to her bed. She obviously suffered from depression. She got over it as the kids grew up, but Rog says he never really pinpointed that “floppy” meant she was unwell. It was pretty much ignored, they all got quietly on with their lives! Roger’s sisters are both drama queens, the eldest was a real handful, drugs, car crashes, sex, drinking, etc, etc, etc, and the middle one had illusions of grandeur! Rog coped by keeping his head down, mostly coming home from school, getting his dog and his gun, and shooting rabbits, or ducks (if it was the right season) and only arriving home with the spoils when it was dark for dinner, maybe homework, if necessary (he was no scholar!) So, a pretty loveless, isolated existence in many ways, but he didn’t mind at the time, it was his normal. He had great friends at school, he is still very close with high school mates. He left school early to work on a dairy farm, saved enough money, and headed to the UK at just 17. He lived there, doing temp work, having a heap of fun, living in squats for about eighteen months. He wasn’t quite 19 when he returned home. He bought his first farm, with 100% finance, at 20. It all meant he had never had time really to find out who he was, on an emotional level, it was work, play and loads more work. His parents loved him, I am sure, but it was never demonstrated.
Nic got him to examine a lot of this stuff, on a far more expert, guided level than I have described. We did a lot of connection exercises, as Nic identified that I was not safe, and had some really big issues around safety. It seemed to go pretty well. We continued with him for about five or six months, and felt we had done well with him. Nic did ask me to contact Jason, the local psychologist who had referred me, in the future if I needed him, and to keep him updated. Roger was amazing throughout this period in the way he engaged in some of the “airy-fairy psycho-babble” stuff we were dealing with, right out of his (especially, me too) comfort zone. I felt we had turned the corner.