Standing at the counter of our favourite hang-out joint, my good friend Joseph was a mere shell of his old self.Now, during his prime from his late teens until he settled down not that he wanted to but he had planted a seed and finally married his campus sweetheart at young age of 27. He was the ultimate player extraordinaire. Several years my senior, he kept himself in great shape, muscle-bulging, work out in the gym, eat good, groom himself and style up, he was the kind shape women go goo-goo over: And he had the sex drive to match.
Standing at the counter of our favourite hang-out joint, my good friend Joseph was a mere shell of his old self.
Now, during his prime from his late teens until he settled down not that he wanted to but he had planted a seed and finally married his campus sweetheart at young age of 27.
He was the ultimate player extraordinaire. Several years my senior, he kept himself in great shape, muscle-bulging, work out in the gym, eat good, groom himself and style up, he was the kind shape women go goo-goo over: And he had the sex drive to match.
It was the stuff of legends, never in park, always in overdrive, always cruising the dusty and potholed streets of Kampala (and sometimes even the back yards, street corners and buildings under construction) in search of a nice bumper to pull up to.
But today, as he sat there, sipping on his beer, not gulping and drinking fast like he used to, he seemed more like someone without motivation, a player all played out.
And even I (possibly the person who knows him best) found it hard to believe what he was telling me.
To make a long story short: After Joseph married, married Joseph was much like single Joseph, he loved romance.
He was always the one in the mood, always the one trying to talk his wife into lovemaking. But 2 years later, married Joseph became married Joseph who was 10 years older. His waistline began to bulge, ripples became rolls; he seemed to have less energy; he would go to the restroom every quarter instead of at halftime; he would seem moody, happy at times and unhappy at others.
These were things even I noticed in him. But I had no idea that he was experiencing changes in his sexual relationship with his wife. How he has been struggling to find the energy to keep up with his wife in bed less than 3 years in the marriage.
How he made excuses, from having a headache to having a backache so as to put her off. How he even pretended to be asleep when she came to bed and began making those sickly, Olympic ring-like circles on his back, you know, the kind all women make with their fingernails, the kind that get every man in a gold-medal, record-breaking kind of mood.
Well, not Joseph, not now. And when they did make love, he says it took him longer to get out the starting gate and shorter to make it to the finish line.
While men have been known to kiss and tell, we only tell the good stuff. Our triumphs. Our conquests. Not our shortcomings. We expect to always be able to perform the way we did when we were hormone-driven youngsters, and when we don’t, we begin to blame ourselves; we begin to think something is wrong with us; we begin to question our manhood.
So I lent him a compassionate ear when he opened up and told me about the gradual series of changes that over several years had transformed him from a self-proclaimed lover man who specialized in satisfying as many ladies as possible to a self-denying, middle-aged man now having trouble satisfying the one special lady in his life.
But first, like any man, I confronted him first.
"I never thought I would see the day when you couldn’t keep up with a woman. And your wife no less,” I said, laughing so hard that I doubled over, clutching my stomach and gasping for air.
"Can’t keep up?” he fired back, now rifling through wallet to order for another round.
"You forget who you’re talking to. I fear no woman. Can’t keep up? I got your can’t keep up light here.”
I never said Joseph had much tact, only women, lots of them. Seems like women always go for the guys with the least refinement. But that’s another story for another day.
Anyway, it had gotten bad for Joseph that he later talked to his doctor about it. Found out that it wasn’t anything personally wrong with him.
He was simply running a futile race against father time, who has the power to put anyone even a one time player-daddy like Joseph in his place.
There are many terms for such changes. Some people think that since he was used to different girls, he’s already bored, others think they need to do something to spice up their lives....etc because he’s in a time when hormone levels and sexual urges decrease, and emotions are unstable.
This happens to women too according to my research and it’s around this time when women are comforted by other women through support groups, or through heart-to-heart conversations with sister-friends who help them learn how to live through it and decipher the meaning of it all. It’s a sad time for some, a new beginning for others.
Men go through similar hormonal and emotional changes. But we have no support groups, and our changes occur anytime. Whatever happens, it is important that we know that the change can happen to the guy thing, and that it is not a personal reflection on us or our manhood.
Doing unique, fun and creative activities with a partner can help but the real help has to come from within, realizing that you’re not less of a man because we can’t go as long or because we are not always in the mood.
Knowing that he had the power to intervene to make his early-life years happier and healthier was redeeming to Joseph and meant the difference in him either spending quality time with his wife, openly talking about many things in his life, or wasting time at our favourite hang-out joint trying to defend his manhood only to have me rib him because it’s the "manly” thing to do.