This is how we do it: ‘Leaving our cult has made sex more intimate’

Jude and Tess grew up in an ultra-strict Christian sect, and when they broke away they had to redefine their relationship

How do you do it? Share the story of your sex life, anonymously

By the time we got married, we had done everything but kiss and have penetrative sex

Our first kiss was on our wedding day, in front of all our family and friends. It was long and deep, and felt like lightning. That was 22 years ago, but Tess and I had met nine years before as we grew up in the same Christian cult.

Chastity was a fixation in the church, and there was a culture of fear, but we pushed (nearly) every boundary. By the time we got married, we were pretty comfortable with each other sexually, having done everything but kiss and have penetrative sex – things we knew our parents would explicitly ask about.

A few years into our marriage, before I took over from my dad as pastor, I was working at a university when I became attracted to a colleague. It felt like God was testing me – to see if I would be faithful before handing me a congregation. The last thing my dad said to me before he died was: “If you ever commit adultery, you’re finished.” I felt I had passed God’s test, as things never became physical between us, although the attraction still felt like infidelity. When I told Tess how I felt, even though it hurt her, we faced it together. But it cast a shadow over our sex life for three years. Tess would worry: “Is he thinking about her when he’s having sex with me?”

Three years ago, Tess and I broke away from the cult. We’re doing things we weren’t allowed to do before: listening to music, drinking wine. It feels as if we’re dating again. Whereas before, Tess was my “wife” rather than her own person, because in God’s eyes we were one, now, as two individuals, as equals, our connection is stronger than ever. Sex is more intense because we’re free to be ourselves.

We left the church amid a growing disillusionment with the things we had been conditioned to believe. I went from a leadership role I was groomed to do since childhood to being unemployed. I struggle with depression as a result, but as a couple we’re much closer. Lying on Tess’s chest, I feel so safe. Just the scent of her arouses me. But her friendship is the most important thing, especially now it’s just the two of us and our kids, without the community we have known our entire lives.

I’m considered an abomination. As a woman, I was supposed to be submissive

I met Jude after my family moved from the Caribbean to the US. As the pastor’s son, he was expected to become a church leader; as a woman, I was expected to be a virgin. But we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Being sexually intimate before marriage meant we understood what turned each other on. When we tried to have penetrative sex on our honeymoon it was too painful, but Jude was patient.

I was in my early 20s when Jude became the pastor. People looked up to our relationship, and as the pastor’s wife I was expected to listen to their problems, though I had relationship issues of my own. When Jude developed an attraction to a colleague, I remember thinking I had two options: he could hide what he was feeling from me and go through it alone, or I could be open to those conversations, where Jude would tell me in detail how he felt. Despite how much it hurt, I was willing to do that to protect our relationship. We saw it as a test from God – one that Jude would overcome.

Since leaving the church, we have been learning who we are as individuals. The excitement of watching Jude discover who he is makes me more attracted to him. Having my own identity makes me feel more desirable. I can wear trousers, pierce my ears, or take Jude out for coffee. But Jude’s family won’t let me into the house. My mum doesn’t talk to me. I’m considered an abomination. As a woman, I was supposed to be submissive, but Jude and I have always been friends, which has made the transition to partners easier.

We’re all each other has. That closeness has made sex more intimate. Sometimes we pause during sex just to look at our hands touching. That’s when I feel closest to him – in those moments where time stands still.