There’s something I don’t understand. I see these articles all the time about how women pretend to have a headache, or pretend to be asleep in order to get out of having sex with their husband. Am I missing something!? I have never done this. If I don’t feel like having sex, I tell my husband that I don’t feel like having sex. But more often than not, he already knows if I feel like it or not, and doesn’t push the issue enough for me to even have to say that. And more often than that, I want to have sex! I enjoy having sex with my husband. I know that’s not an approved 1950’s thing to say, but come on… it’s 2017! I like having sex with my husband. I initiate sex with my husband. 

Here’s the other thing. I’ve never faked an orgasm…with my husband that is. Ever. One, it’s OK if it doesn’t happen every time. Two, we both know my body well enough at this point that we know how to make it happen every time. We take the time to make it happen because it’s important to both of us. Why on earth would I fake an orgasm? How about this instead. Let’s include our husbands so they know how to make it happen.

I just find these two ideas (trying to get out of sex, and faking orgasms), to be so detrimental to women. It’s almost like we are conditioned to act like this. It’s unfair to us, and it’s unfair to our husbands.

Can you imagine if your husband faked a headache, or faked an orgasm? How would that make you feel? It would make me feel pretty lousy, and it would be pretty clear to me that our communication sucked. Instead of having sex we should be talking and working out our trust issues.

We should be working on respecting one another more, not making the other person feel bad about not wanting to have sex, being more understanding, and even being more selfless and having sex for the sake of our partners depending on the circumstance. There’s compromise with everything in a relationship- including sex, and we should have the decency to be able to talk to our partners about it. We should know our partners well enough that once we feel the waters, we gently back off if we can tell it’s not the time. We should be honest enough to just say we aren’t in the mood, and accepting enough for that to be OK. 

And can we please stop teaching women that they should dislike sex? Sex can be amazing for women if we let it. If we don’t condition our daughters to think they should dislike it by telling them to fake reasons to get out of it, or fake orgasms. We should encourage women to know their bodies well enough that they can teach their husband’s how to satisfy them. And we should be upfront about what the true expectation of an orgasm should be.

Why is it that we don’t find out until our 30’s that it’s rare for women to have orgasms with vaginal stimulation alone? We go for a good chunk of our sexual lives thinking there is something wrong, when in fact most women struggle with this. Why do we have to wait to learn these things until we’ve already gone through the most embarrassing and unsure moments of our lives?

Let’s stop making excuses and faking things, and let’s start talking. It’s starts with women. Women talking to women. Mom’s talking to daughters. Let’s raise our daughters to actually know their bodies and be comfortable with their sexuality.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Katrina Villegas

Katrina Villegas is a former process engineer and chemistry teacher turned stay at home mom. She is organizing her beautiful chaos one Babywise step at a time, and sharing her successes and trials along the way. When her daughter was just a few months old she started a blog: http://www.mamasorganizedchaos.com/. She's been recording her thoughts and stories, along with what she's learned, "how to" guides and more. You'll find everything from information on breastfeeding and cloth diapering, to using Babywise schedules, sleep training options, and discipline tips. She is also mom to a baby that earned her wings due to trisomy 13. You'll find raw, real emotions and how she's coping with her grief of losing a child. 

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading