We all know that sex can be exciting, compelling and revitalizing.
But did you know that when researchers recently asked happily married couples how important sex was to the success of their marriage —on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the highest — the average rank was only 6. This finding held true over the more than 30 years of their research.
By contrast, all of the married couples they interviewed emphasized the importance of non-sexual human touching in their relationship: They hugged a lot, they held hands, and they cuddled and curved their bodies around each other while half-asleep.
What the research didn’t determine is whether these couples loved to snuggle because they were happily married to begin with, or whether snuggling made their marriages happier.
Regardless, it does seem that in the best marriages, partners do a lot of touching. Sex is only one – and not even the most important – form of touch intimacy. A simple hug or gentle caress is enough to promote the important release of oxytocin (the so-called “love hormone”).
Why then do some people fear that if they don’t have frequent mind-blowing sex, there must be something wrong with their marriage? I think we’ve been brainwashed to believe this. We all love stories about great sex. (Even my devout Mennonite mother kept romance novels hidden under her mattress!) So books, movies, and other media keep throwing at us the illusion that rampant sex is the norm in a good marriage.
And then if we hold ourselves to the same standard, we sometimes feel like failures.
I’m very fortunate that touch is central to my marriage. Ed and I wrap ourselves into each other’s arms beginning sometime around 4:00 every morning and remain intertwined until the alarm awakens us at 7:00. We call it the “skin thing” that our bodies do when we lie together like that: It’s difficult for us to sense the place where the skin of one body begins and the other ends.
I’m an essayist. I write about personal experiences that are or have been significant in my life, especially if I believe they may positively influence my readers’ lives. You’d think I’d write more about our “skin thing.” But I can’t. There are few words to describe it. For us, the “skin thing” bypasses any cognitive description or categorization and lands directly in the heart center.
As I was researching the topic for this blog, I came across the term “skinship,” which originated as a pseudo-English Japanese word to describe bonding through physical contact, such as holding hands or hugging. I love its similarity with the English word “kinship.”
What might you gain if you focused more on skinship with your partner? What is there to lose?
The gain for me from the “skin thing” is a daily sense of deep inner peace, rest and safety. I suppose that it does require a level of open vulnerability that might seem risky. However this also seems to open the door to the experience of love.
What draws others of you engage or not engage in the skin thing with your partner?
My husband and I are friends with Marlena and Ed and had heard and read about their “skin thing.” Eight months ago in January, while on a long vacation, we decided to initiate that practice. I’ll say upfront, it has been restorative, rewarding, delicious . . . For others wanting to give it a try, I can offer a variation on how we got started. As a longtime married couple with a satisfying sexual history, we have a lot of conditioning about being in bed together. And as a quite mature couple now, our physical/sexual capabilities are not as rousing as they used to be. First, particularly for me, we had to create a safe, nondemand space. We agreed that we would just “be together skin to skin” and experience that without the implicit (or explicit) expectation that it would lead to intercourse. It was and remains a very sensual, close, caring, intimate experience. And sometimes, by mutual agreement, it does lead to something else. We have coined a term for this practice–“SKINTIMACY.”
Our arrangement is mornings, after waking up, brushing teeth, and then back to bed for 20-30 minutes of skintimacy. It’s a wonderful way to start the day and establish that connection that lasts the whole day long. Thank you Marlena and Ed for enriching our marriage.
Skinship. Skin-thing. Skintimacy. Wonderful. Thank you, Pat. Your open and honest account of your practice is so very inspiring!