This story's dramatic climax, so to speak, occurred 15 years into a marriage that has made me one of the luckiest, so to speak, guys in the world. I've paid the price of serious personal anxiety, but as you'll see, the reasons for my anxiety have been well understood by my bride. You may think, and I may agree, that she has manipulated me a bit, but I'm assuredly not complaining.
When Kelly and I met, I was a happily single 26-year-old building his career in the regional division of a national manufacturing company. I was in the sales department, Kelly was a new hire in the customer service department, so we had purely business-focused reasons to become acquainted. I had actually heard about her from three of my customers who told me about her exceptional ability to project a positive personality, even while troubleshooting problems in our company's product performance.
I soon had opportunities to experience Kelly in action, most memorably a session in our corporate conference room demanded by a truly outraged customer who needed to vent as much as seek specific solutions. It was incredible. She's an auburn-haired Irish lass who somehow kept her blue eyes smiling through the whole process. She was intelligent, articulate, and had taken a deep web-dive to learn that our outraged customer had a son in high school, two college-age daughters and a lifelong passion for Boston Celtics basketball. Long story short, our crisis was solved, our client relationship was saved, and I was dazzled.
It was late in the afternoon, so after we finished our follow-up report, I said, "I would love to buy you a celebration Guinness after that performance." She hesitated for a moment but apparently decided that our outcome was, indeed, worth a bit of celebration. "Okay, but a short one. I have plans later tonight."
So we met at O'Flaherty's Pub and I was dazzled again. Conversation was easy, partly because she knew the town I grew up in, the college I attended, and my reasonably significant success as a Division 2 baseball player. The eyes played a huge role, bright blue, happy sometimes, quizzical sometimes, concerned sometimes. She wasn't a beauty in a Hollywood sense, but people would probably use words like cute or perky or bubbly -- whatever you'd call it, she was an incredibly appealing human being.
Let's condense a three-month developing relationship into this summary. When we met, I had a lady-friend named Leslie. Kelly was still in a relationship with her college boyfriend, Jason. Our relationship was as pure as the driven snow in any sexual sense. In fact, it was the first time I had taken seriously the idea that a man and woman can be 'just friends.' I simply loved time I spent with her.
Then a change began, in me. She and I never discussed my Leslie or her Jason relationships at any intimacy level. But I was observant enough to realize that on some days, she was dressed a bit more provocatively than on other days -- but we're talking a TINY bit: neckline just a bit lower; skirt just a bit shorter; make-up different somehow. And then I figured out that those days were directly related to whether she had a date with Jason that night. And little by little, I became jealous of the son of a bitch.
Okay, you don't need to tell me it was unreasonable. I will confess here at the outset that I have jealousy issues. I don't want to belabor it or discuss whether I need a shrink; all I know is that I have issues going way back to childhood. It's never been violent jealousy. Just the kind that, when triggered, sits in the pit of your stomach and can control a major share of your conscious mind. So I was beginning to feel jealousy pangs about a guy I had never met. I can almost hear you saying, "WTF is wrong with you man?" Fair question.
Not surprisingly, Leslie and I didn't last long. Happily for me, something went south in the Kelly-Jason relationship. Kelly and I began dating, but on a limited basis because of a temporary job assignment that sent me to Chicago for days, sometimes a week, at a time. It's also true that our pre-marriage physical activity wasn't as intense as I expected. I worried some that she just didn't think sex was an important part of life, but I still loved being with her. So I proposed, she accepted, and we became man and wife. As we drove away from the church, she said, "Now I can relax and have some fun." I had no idea what that meant, in fact it seemed backward. Most people I knew did their having fun before marriage, but therein lies the rest of this story.
I thought that by "winning Kelly's hand," I had insulated myself from the jealously issue even before we walked the aisle. I had called, and she agreed to attend, a two-person relationship-planning meeting in which we pledged to never talk about previous relationships in any physical sense.
Well, the jealousy Genie stayed in its bottle for about 48 hours after our "I do's.". We honeymooned in Cancun. On the first afternoon, as we prepared for beach time, I was sipping a rum drink on the patio while she finished 'dressing.' She came through the sliding door behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, "What do you think of my outfit?"
I swiveled in my lounge chair; she put her arms above her head, ballet style, and did a slow 360, and I said, "HOLY SHIT..." The bikini was lime-green. It covered everything that's supposed to be covered, but we're talking barely. My heart was beating, maybe thundering, harder. I took a moment to compose myself, but didn't get very composed, and I started the process of teaching Mrs. Greg Henson how Greg Henson's wife will behave in regard to fashion selection. "There is no fucking way that you are going to the beach looking like..."
She leaned toward me, put two fingers across my lips, and set the tone for the rest of our marriage. "Greg, listen carefully. I am yours, forever. I said it in the church and I'll say it now. But you are about to learn that I'm a very sexual person. I like doing sexy things, and I won't be bullied by your insecurities. So you need to relax and enjoy it."
I tried once for some semblance of situational control.. "How the hell can I relax and enjoy knowing that other guys are... are...?"
And she said simply, "You'll need to figure that out."
So we went to the beach, and as I feared, she received major visual attention. Kelly is only 5'4." She's not voluptuous in any sense -- probably a 34-something bra size (I've never asked) -- but great legs... great, you know... just great everything. It seemed to me that every guy on the beach from age 15 to 75 was ogling my wife-- probably not, but jealously does strange things to perception.
On the way back to our room, she gave me her impish Irish smile, eyes dancing, "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" I couldn't help laughing out loud, and couldn't help noticing the clear invitation in her expression. And HOLY SHIT, we had a sexual session during which the teenie-weenie-lime bikini lasted about ten seconds and I was on fire like never in my life.
Here's what I quickly learned. She did set the tone on the Cancun patio. Kelly isn't going to be controlled by my jealousy. But if I can "relax and enjoy," the benefits are spectacular. Of course, practical matter, I'm way better at the enjoying than the relaxing, but the result has been an active, continuously exciting sexual relationship that has endured for 18 years and has navigated two wonderful children and all the life distractions that can cause the sexual fire to go out if couples let it happen.
Before moving to this story's climax, let me describe just two of the many ways she has owned me, mind and body, and these are from early in our marriage. I came home from work. Kelly was waiting for me wearing a short little sun dress, scoop neck, mid-thigh length. She waited until I finished my after-work cocktail and said, "I need you to come to the kitchen table with me." Of course, I had no idea why, but have learned to be obedient in this kind of situation.
"Sit over there," she said, motioning to the chair across the kitchen table from where she was standing. So I continued my obedience. She said, "I'm worried about something that happened today."
I frowned, perplexed by what the hell might have happened that would cause me to be sitting at the far side of the kitchen table. "What are you worrying about?"
