Anticipation

The frum blogosphere is full of tirades from both men and women, frum and OTD, regarding taharas hamishpacha. Yes, this is another one. I think my perspective on the subject is somewhat unusual, but of course that may just be ego talking.

A few months ago, I would have told you that I don't mind keeping taharas hamishpacha; in fact, I was grateful for the mandatory respite from sex. Imagine - two whole weeks when he can't even ask me! Two whole weeks without worry! Gevaldik!

That's not how I feel anymore, though. I've started feeling that taharas hamishpacha is contributing to my dislike of intimacy. The halachos of taharas hamishpacha - and yes, that so-welcome mandatory respite - are contributing to my feeling objectified. I feel like we don't even have a chance to work on developing an emotional bond or a friendship that would make me happier to be bound to this person for the rest of my life: our relationship is halachicly focused on sex, on the woman's sexual cycle. The woman is a sex object, no matter how chivalrous the man is. No matter how much he pretends - or even tries - to focus on the woman's other qualities, the most important part of their relationship is going to be focused on whether or not he can touch her.

I am makpid on negiah. At work, where I spend my day mostly with goyim, I am very careful to avoid touching men. Although it's not particularly comfortable, especially in my line of work, I refuse to shake hands with people. I ask them not to touch me in platonic ways. Still, I'll admit that if it's something that the person clearly didn't even notice doing, and it's unlikely to ever happen again, I sometimes let things slide. I know that my husband is not going to be embarrassed or unhappy if I point out his own infractions while I'm a nidah, but I'll admit that there are times when I let those slide, too. If he passes me something without thinking about it, or if we forget to put a heker on the table, and I notice, sometimes I say something, and sometimes I don't. To be honest, sometimes I forget some of the harchakos. Not the negiah ones, but the heker and things like that. Sometimes I forget. Never that I'm a nidah, but sometimes that I'm not supposed to do something. I'm pretty good, but I'm not perfect. And it doesn't even bother me to slip up on these things; I'm having a lot of trouble appreciating the beauty in taharas hamishpacha.

Anyhow, my point is that since sex is not a part of anyone's relationship at the office, and since I don't believe I'm viewed as a sexual object in that setting, I don't focus on touch in building relationships - and neither do the people with whom I work. We build healthy, functional working relationships - and yes, friendships - without sexual undertones. No, I would never have considered marrying any of them, and no, sex never enters my mind as the natural progression of a close relationship, but still - I don't even think the men in my office think of that as a primary part of our relationships. Even the ones who like me and think I'm pretty. Even the ones who consider me a friend. (All right, I got pretty good at sending out "keep away" messages during college. I don't think any of them think of me as a good possibility for a relationship. Or even thought of me that way prior to my marriage.) Thus, I feel justified in believing that not all men think about women in a sexual context at all times. In fact, I'd be willing to say that most men are capable of thinking about other things than sex.

So I'm forced to assume that this seeming obsession by young frum married men with sex is caused, at least in part, by taharas hamishpacha. Imagine being forbidden any sort of sexual outlet for the 20-odd years leading up to marriage, and then only being able to think about sex 50% of the time. We're talking about young human men who have spent a lot of time working to develop their minds. They are hit with a whole new set of halacha when they get married, and they think about it non-stop. Horny newlywed kollel guys? Blame taharas hamishpacha. Maybe a more casual attitude to things like "affectionate touching" - within the bounds of marriage; I'm not advocating throwing out negiah - would cause fewer horniness issues.

All that horniness, I think, is one of the things that is hindering my ability to build a relationship with my husband. I don't see him as sexually attractive at all, and there are some things that I could finger as distinct turn-offs. If I'm trying to build a sex-based relationship here, there's really pretty much no hope. And I can't build a platonic relationship, because my every day is a constant reminder of my nidah or non-nidah status, and we are forced to constantly think about our sexual relationship. Either I'm counting the days I'm menstruating, or I'm counting the days I stick a cloth up where really I'd prefer to have nothing at all going, or I'm anticipating requests for some sort of sex and either trying to force myself into willingness or trying to come up with valid new excuses why I'm not willing. There is never a vacation. I'm always on duty, and I'm always feeling like an object.

I can't say I look forward to mikvah night. I don't find the mikvah a humiliating experience, but I don't enjoy it. I don't see it as a spiritually uplifting experience. I don't sense a profound direct connection to G-d when I'm standing in the pure waters of the mikvah. I try to daven for a better connection with my husband, hoping against hope that my kallah teacher is right and there is a special power to tefillos from the mikvah. I do it, because I feel like it's the right thing, and there's always this tiny hope that it will work.

The last time I went to mikvah, I took along a book to read in the tub. I managed to get myself in a much better mood than I ever had prior to sex. It lasted until I got home, and then the good feeling evaporated. But still, that one time, I looked forward to mikvah night. Why? Not because I eagerly awaited a reunion with a special person, but because I was finally in a mood where I'd be able to handle my duties, and if I could do them that night, I'd be off the hook for a while. Somehow, I don't think that's the anticipation that halacha had in mind.