My wife says I don't respect her body because I still want to have sex with her during her period, but I think she's the one making our marriage unnecessarily complicated. Whenever my wife, Jessica, gets her period, she expects me to stay away from her sexually for the entire week. I understand that some women experience cramps, discomfort, and mood changes during their periods, and I respect that. But Jessica sometimes feels perfectly fine, still wants cuddles, kisses, and attention, yet gets offended when I ask whether she wants to be intimate. Last month, I decided to ask her something that had been bothering me. "Jessica, why do you automatically assume I shouldn't touch you just because you're on your period? What if you feel comfortable and actually want to?" She looked at me as if I'd said something disgusting. "Because I'm bleeding, Daniel! Do you expect me to pretend nothing is happening?" I told her that wasn't what I meant. I was simply asking why we couldn't discuss it instead of treating the subject like a forbidden topic. She said, "Because I don't want to have sex when I'm on my period. Is that not enough?" I went quiet because, honestly, she had a point. If she doesn't want sex, that should be the end of the discussion. But the problem is that Jessica sometimes complains that our sex life isn't exciting anymore. She says I should initiate intimacy more often, make her feel wanted, and stop acting like we're roommates.

I returned home after being away for 3 days and found another man in my bedroom with my wife wearing a condom. For 3 days, I had been away on a work assignment in another state. My wife, Vanessa, had kissed me goodbye at the door and told me she would miss me. She called me every night, asked whether I had eaten, and reminded me to drive safely when I returned. Nothing about her behavior made me suspect anything. I even bought her favorite perfume at the airport because I wanted to surprise her. I imagined walking through the front door, seeing her smile, and spending the evening together after a week apart. Instead, I walked into a scene I still struggle to explain without feeling sick. The front door was unlocked. I heard voices coming from the bedroom, followed by a laugh I didn't recognize. At first, I thought Vanessa had invited a friend over. Then I stepped inside. A man I had never seen before was standing beside my sofa, wearing nothing but his shirt and a condom. Vanessa was right there with him, looking so startled that she dropped the glass she was holding. For several seconds, nobody moved. The man looked at me, then at Vanessa. His face changed immediately. “Who the hell are you?” I he ask me. Vanessa rushed toward me. “Daniel, please. Let me explain.” I stared at her. Explain what? Why a strange man was standing in my bedroom wearing a condom while my wife stood beside him? The man grabbed his trousers from the floor. I stepped toward him, but Vanessa suddenly placed herself between us. “Don't touch him!” she screamed. Those three words hurt more than anything else that happened that afternoon.