When you're partners in an unconsummated marriage, there's a lot of anger.
You find yourself saying things you would never say under normal circumstances. You see yourself becoming bitter and horrible to your husband. You tell him this is all his fault and that any normal man would be able to have penetrated you. You compare him to your ex-boyfriend and laugh at him.
The reason you're so mean and vicious is because of how much pain you're dealing with yourself. You hate yourself. You hate yourself so much that you want to take out that hate on anyone you can and of course the only one you can is him because it's not like you can tell anyone about this.
So you spend a lot of time tearing each other down. Then you cry in each other's arms, because how did it get to this? You had such high hopes for this marriage. How can you possibly be in this place? How can you be destroying all those happy thoughts and feelings you had for each other? And yet you do it methodically, trying to burn it to the ground.
We've been yo-yoing back and forth between this for a while now. Some days are good days. A lot of them are angry days. We get furious, we cry, we try to pretend we're normal and this problem doesn't exist, etc in a cycle repeating over and over. Even things we can do, like making out, are hard for us to do because we're so aware of what's missing.
If we weren't such a strong couple, I have no doubt our marriage would be over already. But neither me nor my husband are quitters.
Aside from that, he's crazy in love with me. I have no idea why. Why would a man want to be with a woman who can't even sexually fulfill him? He adores me, though. He kisses my tears away and holds me and tells me we'll get through this. He says he won't leave me. He doesn't look at porn or do anything like that. He tries to comfort me in my inadequacy.
I'm more selfish. I know he feels inadequate and that I've been making him feel inadequate, but since I'm the one with the vaginismus issue (that's what it's called, by the way), I'm the one who feels defective. Like a broken thing that can't really be repaired. And it's making me hate myself.
The only feeling that's stronger than the anger and the fury I feel with everyone from my husband to the entire Orthodox system is my deep wish for this to just be over.
I almost can't imagine what life will be like when it finally is.