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Informationen zum Autor Barbara Wilson Klappentext Do you ever wonder why marriage can seem like the end of intimacy and sexual desire instead of the beginning? Ever wonder why it was so hard to resist sex before marriage-and so easy to resist it now? If so, you're not alone! Many married women genuinely want to feel more desire toward their husbands...and can't figure out what went wrong. But there's good news. In Kiss Me Again, Barbara Wilson shows how powerful "invisible bonds” from past relationships can cause heartache, disappointment, and distance for couples in the present. Then-with sensitivity, honesty, and hope-Barbara walks you step by step toward healing...and a rekindling of the closeness and passion with your husband that you really want. You don't have to live any longer with confusion, disappointment, resentment, or shame. You can rediscover desire. You can say Wow! again.1Saying No When You Want to Say Yes I never imagined I'd be writing about sex. If someone had told me even a few years ago that I'd be writing, speaking, and leading a ministry on sexual healing, I'd have had a good laugh. You see, I didn't enjoy sex very much, even as a young wife. It ranked right up there with doing dishes and changing diapers. I thought I was the only one who felt this way, and I never talked about it with anyone. After all, Eric and I were the perfect Christian couple with the ideal family. The kind others might envy. We practically lived at church, and we attended a small group with other couples our age, learning and praying together. We served in our church, our community, and our children's school. We were great parents, great friends,great Christians, and great partners. My husband was faithful, a good provider, a wonderful father. He helped around the house, came home after work, and didn't squander our money at the casino or bars. He went to church with me, shopped with me, and cuddled in bed with me. He loved me, and I loved him. So what was my problem? I wanted more. Our marriage was okay, maybe even good, but it wasn't great. Certainly not what I'd dreamed it would be or hoped it could be. Sounds selfish, I know. Many women, particularly those who are single or in violent, loveless, or faithless marriages, might have little sympathy for me. Some might have a few words to say to me. And I'd probably agree. In the museum of marriage, ours looked perfect. But as the saying goes, looks can be deceiving. In our case they were. The struggle started early, within the first year, and twenty years and four kids later, it wasn't any better. Naively, wishfully, we would slam the bedroom door on our struggle each morning, hoping it would stay out of sight. Out of mind. But with our glances and glares, with our barely there kisses, and with the words we did and didn't say, we erected an invisible wall of wounds between us. No one knew we had a problem. Not even us. It was easy for me to overlook this segment of our relationship when everything else appeared to be okay. But what I didn't realize was that the wall I was raising in our physical intimacy was blocking our emotional intimacy as well. And although I tried, I couldn't keep this part of our marriage isolated from the rest. It seeped into every part of our relationship, stealing our joy. We didn't fight often, but when we did, it was always about sex. The fights always started the same way. "Why don't you like sex?" my husband would ask. "I don't know," I'd respond. I wanted to like it, wanted to want it, but no matter how many times I promised to try, it never got better. I loved my husband, but I didn't love making love. So the fights usually ended up on my side of the bed. It was my problem, after all. I didn't like sex and avoided it with premeditated skill. When I couldn't evade it any longer, I was often unresponsive, longing for it to be over. If I never had sex again as long as I lived, I'd be so happy...
