My new house has a beautiful soaking tub which thrilled me. To be honest, it was one of the selling features of the home for me. I’m a tub girl. During my first marriage my ex and I did a bathroom renovation (we lived in a 200 year old farmhouse) that included a big tub. He insisted on it being a jacuzzi tub, I preferred a soaking tub, preferably claw foot to go with the ambiance of the older home. He won, of course. That categorized our entire marriage – ‘my way or the highway’. Hint: if you adopt that attitude, they eventually choose the highway. I did. Having the jets were a waste BTW as he never let me use them, but that’s a different bitch for a different day. Issues aside,. I loved that tub. I would take hour long baths. It was my refuge from 3 little boys, 2 dogs, 3 cats and an asswipe (my ex).
Eventually I left him and my first post-divorce apartment had a beautiful antique clawfoot tub. Again, hour long baths. Bliss.
I bought my first solo home, a condo right on the beach. It had a ‘normal’ bathtub. I still loved my baths after a hard day at the office.
I met Mr Wonderful and eventually moved into his house, selling the condo on the beach (aside from the location and the wonderful tub there were issues, I’ve no regrets in selling). His house was beautiful but the en suite bath didn’t have a tub, just a super oversized super shower suitable for a Roman orgy – awesome but not a tub. The other bath on the second floor had a ‘normal’ tub. I never actually used it. It was fiberglass and I don’t care for that feel. I kinda missed my tub time.
Well here we are in our new, purchased together, home. It’s got my dream tub. I bought all kinds of bath bombs and other girly accoutrements to maximize the sybaritic pleasure of the tub. I filled it, added my potions and sank into the water. It was nice.
It wasn’t amazing, wasn’t soul altering, wasn’t the sensuous experience I remembered. I was horrified. Why? What’s wrong? My tub had always been my refuge from the world.
And then it hit me: I neither need nor want a refuge from the world anymore. I’m happy. I like where I live, I like who I am, I like who I love. The tub felt nice, it was sensuous but I didn’t feel the need to linger long. I wanted to get back to my husband.
I do miss the joy I felt in my tub. The echo of the memory is bittersweet but everything else I’ve gained is a more than acceptable trade.