Your Wife Is Not Mother Teresa (And She’s Kind of Mad About It)
Dani is no Mother Teresa or is she? find out in Restore Body Bliss with Audri
By Asana
Let me paint you a picture.
There's a man. He loves his wife. ADORES her. Talks about her like she descended from a cloud holding a casserole. She's the mother of his kids, the heart of his home, the woman who remembers everyone's dentist appointments.
She is, in his words, "an angel." And he hasn't initiated anything more adventurous than the lights-off special in roughly four years.
Hello, We need to talk.
The pedestal is not a compliment. It’s a storage container.
Men love to put their wives on a pedestal. They think it's the highest honor they can give. "I respect her too much." "She's not like that." "She's the mother of my children."
Cute. Here's what the woman up on that pedestal is actually thinking:
Get me DOWN from here.
Because a pedestal looks like a throne and feels like a shelf. You're not being worshipped. You're being put away. Admired from a distance like a vase nobody's allowed to touch. And the longer you're up there, the more invisible you feel as an actual flesh-and-blood woman with, you know, a pulse and some opinions.
Respect and desire are not enemies, boys. You can do both. In fact — plot twist — desiring your wife IS a form of respect. Ignoring that she has needs because she's "too pure" isn't reverence. It's just neglect wearing a nicer outfit.
The Madonna / not-Madonna thing (let’s say it plainly)
Somewhere in a lot of men's brains, women got sorted into two folders.
Folder one: the woman you ravish. The fun one. The one from "before."
Folder two: the woman you marry, respect, and would NEVER do anything wild with because she's the mother of your children and that would be… disrespectful?
Here's the problem. You married a whole human and then filed her under "saint." And saints, in your imagination, don't want to be bent over the kitchen counter. So you stopped asking.
Meanwhile, your "angel" is lying next to you wondering when the last time was that you looked at her like you wanted her. Not loved her. WANTED her. There's a difference, and she feels it every single night you turn over and go to sleep.
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Here’s the part that’ll really get you
You think she's not into it.
She thinks YOU'RE not into HER.
So you're both lying there, three feet apart, each politely assuming the other one isn't interested. Nobody says anything. Years go by. A pedestal gathers dust.
Two people who WANT each other, doing nothing, out of mutual misplaced courtesy. It's almost romantic. It's also a tragedy. Cut it out.
Men. Sit down. Here’s the move.
You don't fix this with a grand gesture or a weird new candle from the bath store. You fix it with WORDS. Out loud. With your face.
Try one of these. I'll even write them for you, because I'm generous:
"I feel like I've been treating you like you're fragile. You're not. I want you. Can we talk about what we both actually want?"
"I've been assuming things about what you're into. I'd rather just ask. What do you want more of?"
"Is there anything you've wanted to bring up but didn't think you could?"
And then — this is the hard part for you, I know — shut up and listen. Don't get defensive. Don't make it weird. Don't say "really?!" in a tone like she just confessed to a crime.
She might say "honestly, nothing, I'm happy." Great, now you KNOW instead of guessing.
Or she might hand you a list that makes your eyebrows hit the ceiling. Also great. That's your wife. The same one who color-codes the kids' lunches. Surprise — she contains range.
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“But what if I offend her?”
You won't offend her by being curious and respectful.
You'll offend her by deciding, on her behalf, for YEARS, that she's a delicate little flower who couldn't possibly want more. That's the insulting part. You made her a saint so you wouldn't have to do the brave, vulnerable thing and actually ask a question.
A woman who's told "I find you irresistible and I want to know what turns you on" does not feel disrespected. She feels SEEN. Possibly for the first time in a long time. That's the whole ballgame.
xx, Asana
TL’DR
Your wife is not a monument. She's not Mother Teresa. She's not a vase. She is a real woman who very likely wants to be wanted by the person who promised to want her forever.
The pedestal feels safe because it asks nothing of you. No vulnerability, no awkward conversation, no risk of hearing "yes, actually, I'd love that" and having to rise to the occasion. But safe and lonely are roommates, and you're both living there.
So take her down off the shelf. Dust her off. Look her dead in the eye and ASK. Worst case, you learn she's content. Best case? You find out the angel you married has been waiting years for you to stop being so polite.
Go ask. You can handle it.
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