Struggle, love and growth…
You can listen to this weeks post here
I had a conversation with a friend the other day that has been facing a serious health battle; she was not only facing her battle with magnanimous grace she had made the decision to live every single day to the fullest. I am so proud of her and many other of my old friends who are facing the blackness of grief and trauma and those that are struggling with their health and facing their own mortality, what I am seeing time and time again is though we have been dealt unimaginable circumstances the universe has also handed us a gift and in that gift is a wisdom that perhaps we were just not ready to see before. There is nothing like tragedy to make you see things in an entirely new way. Life itself is a gift but we rush through the most important moments, always planning for the future or stuck in those places in the past that ripped our souls out, that taught us to be small and fearful, to doubt ourselves and to obey old vows and commitments that have been handed down for generation upon generation, that keep us sick and bound. I remember as young children everything I told my girls they would say “but why?”
It was incredibly irritating and I usually gave the customary answer that had been handed down among generations of mothers “because I said so”
At some point in adulthood we stop challenging the social and political norms and we follow along like good little soldiers with a little voice in the back of our minds. “mama said be polite, mama said be a lady, mama said don’t get my clothes dirty.”
We stop asking “but why” and we allow life to move us along.
For me, when tragedy hit I was so fucking terrified. My husband was my rock and facing a life without him had me panic stricken but loss brings with it a certain understanding of the world, a thoughtful consideration of the seemingly unpredictable ebbs and flows of life; that move us, cleanse us and guide us.
There is sadness in saying goodbye not just to our loved ones but to all that we believed would be our lives, just as there is sadness in saying goodbye to the breathtaking magic and fearlessness of youth. Moments, memories and days we thought would never end slip through our fingers; like the sand we packed in our hands at the beach as children and the tighter we held on the more it seeped through the cracks.
It hadn’t yet occurred to us that we would run out of time or that the transient nature of life came with a reckoning so we lived without a fear of dying.
The thing with being a kid is that most of us didn’t know devastating loss and we hadn’t yet been faced with the impermanence of life. We hadn’t said our final goodbyes in hospital rooms our spoken heartfelt thoughts about our loved ones in eulogies. It hadn’t yet occurred to us that we would run out of time or that the transient nature of life came with a reckoning. The beauty in that is that we lived without a fear of dying.
I remember when I lost Kirk there were days that I was overcome with an irrational fear of evanescence. I believed that if I allowed myself to heal and to move forward then his memory and essence would rapidly fade. I wish I could come up with something to say to make everyone that will inevitably face loss understand, that that fear could not have been further from reality. As I began to allow myself to inch forward I began to see Kirk in a whole new way, not his death or the tragic illness that ripped him from us but as a quintessential life, something that could and would always transcend time and space to guide and support me. My memories of him are vivid and though the moments of struggle and fear we faced have insignificance now, it is the laughter and the stolen moments of candor and abandon that live in around me and propel me forward.
The wisdom that tragedy gives us is that we should all live in the wonder of youth.
I will not follow the rules that someone else made and call it living. I will not live to please everyone but myself; I will not rush through my life as if it is a race to my death. I will not allow the death of my great love to be the thing that cripples me and drains me of life little by little until I die. I will let love and death be my teachers; those things that remind me to live big, to laugh and to always choose love. The wisdom that tragedy gives us is that we should all live in the wonder of youth. Calamity knows no prejudice, at some point it will bring us all to our knees, it will not leave us unchanged but we should never allow it to diminish us.
Life, love, loss; it comes and goes in waves.
If you prefer to listen instead of read, you can listen HERE
I posted a piece a couple of days back called Too Much Woman by Ev’Yan Whitney, I shared it having no idea who she was and it was a couple of days later when I found myself going back to the piece to read it over and over again that I decided to look her up. The piece was written back in 2014 and published on Ev’yans blog Sex Love Liberation.
Her blog is stunning visually and it contains a lot of raw truth for anyone who struggles with their sexuality and womanhood. I would even suggest that men read it, if you are in love with a woman who has difficulty accessing and embracing her sexual side you may want to gently direct her to this blog. There is a lot crippling shame and emotional discomfort that plaques both men and women who deal with sexual issues and it can be emotionally draining on the individual with the issue as well as there intimate partner. Relationships are not easy without the added stress and shame of sexual dissatisfaction.
I was lucky to be a part of a presentation yesterday put on by The City of Edmonton and facilitated by ex British Military and intelligence Dave Ainsworth. The course has absolutely nothing to do with sexuality but as all things are relative and I find myself frequently connecting the dots of the universe, David said something that resonated with me and I wanted to share it with you both in the context that it was intended and in the way I feel that it relates to everyday life. It led me back to this piece and how we so often let our fear of embarrassment, our fear of speaking up takes precedence over what we know to be right. The course was an Active Intruder/Shooter course and Mr. Ainsworth took us through multiple scenarios where if one person had spoken up, the outcome could have been different. I was relaying this message to my daughter on a walk last night and she said “but that stuff doesn’t really happen in Canada” and the truth is yes it does. Yes it happens on a smaller scale but Canada has unfortunately had fatal instances of terrorism as well as school, domestic and work related violence. In almost every scenario we were guided through, there was an incident where someone could have and should have spoken up and didn’t and it affected everything. I highly recommend that if you have an opportunity to attend a course in your city to do it but for me this message led me back to Ev’Yan Whitney’s piece “Too Much Woman” because so often it is ingrained in our being to be small, be polite, don’t create waves, don’t speak up…
I am telling you today “FUCK THAT” ‘Too Much Woman” we need you. Keep showing up, keep speaking your truth.
I am sharing this piece below because it means something to me, it reminds that it is OK to be all of me, to be expansive and fill my space, to want, to ask, to seek and desire. To move, to expand, to feel and to be every single bit of me.
I am a “Too Much woman”
Too Much Woman
There she is. . . the “too much” woman. The one who loves too hard, feels too deeply, asks too often, desires too much.
There she is taking up too much space, with her laughter, her curves, her honesty, her sexuality. Her presence is as tall as a tree, as wide as a mountain. Her energy occupies every crevice of the room. Too much space she takes.
There she is causing a ruckus with her persistent wanting, too much wanting. She desires a lot, wants everything—too much happiness, too much alone time, too much pleasure. She’ll go through brimstone, murky river, and hellfire to get it. She’ll risk all to quell the longings of her heart and body. This makes her dangerous.
She is dangerous.
And there she goes, that “too much” woman, making people think too much, feel too much, swoon too much. She with her authentic prose and a self-assuredness in the way she carries herself. She with her belly laughs and her insatiable appetite and her proneness to fiery passion. All eyes on her, thinking she’s hot shit.
Oh, that “too much” woman. . . too loud, too vibrant, too honest, too emotional, too smart, too intense, too pretty, too difficult, too sensitive, too wild, too intimidating, too successful, too fat, too strong, too political, too joyous, too needy—too much.
She should simmer down a bit, be taken down a couple notches. Someone should put her back in a more respectable place. Someone should tell her.
Here I am. . . the Too Much Woman, with my too-tender heart and my too-much emotions.
A hedonist, feminist, pleasure seeker, empath. I want a lot—justice, sincerity, spaciousness, ease, intimacy, actualization, respect, to be seen, to be understood, your undivided attention, and all of your promises to be kept.
I’ve been called high maintenance because I want what I want, and intimidating because of the space I occupy. I’ve been called selfish because I am self-loving. I’ve been called a witch because I know how to heal myself.
And still. . . I rise. Still, I want and feel and ask and risk and take up space.
Us Too Much Women have been facing extermination for centuries—we are so afraid of her, terrified of her big presence, of the way she commands respect and wields the truth of her feelings. We’ve been trying to stifle the Too Much Woman for ions—in our sisters, in our wives, in our daughters. And even now, even today, we shame the Too Much Woman for her bigness, for her wanting, for her passionate nature.
And still. . . she thrives.
In my own world and before my very eyes, I am witnessing the reclamation and rising up of the Too Much Woman. That Too Much Woman is also known to some as Wild Woman or the Divine Feminine. In any case, she is me, she is you, and she is loving that she’s finally, finally getting some airtime.
If you’ve ever been called “too much,” or “overly emotional,” or “bitchy,” or “stuck up,” you are likely a Too Much Woman.
And if you are. . . I implore you to embrace all that you are—all of your depth, all of your vastness; to not hold yourself in, and to never abandon yourself, your bigness, your radiance.
Forget everything you’ve heard—your too much-ness is a gift; oh yes, one that can heal, incite, liberate, and cut straight to the heart of things.
Do not be afraid of this gift, and let no one shy you away from it. Your too much-ness is magic, is medicine. It can change the world.
Don’t believe me? Check this: All of your favorite women, the ones who’ve made history, the ones who’ve lent their voices for change and have courageously given themselves permission to be exactly who they are. Some examples: Oprah, Ronda Rousey, Beyoncé, Kali, Misty Copeland, Janet Mock, Mary Magdalene . . . they’re all Too Much Women.
So please, Too Much Woman: Ask. Seek. Desire. Expand. Move. Feel. Be.
Make your waves, fan your flames, give us chills.
We need you.
Share this message with your friends, it is important that we not only are assured that we are enough but that we feel free to be all that we are. We are never “too much”
This is no time for us to roll over and purr, it’s time to ROAR
In 1969 Dennis Hopper took a maturely modest approach to cinematic shorthand when Wyatt and Billy rode into hearts and homes as two Southern Californian Harley Riding Hippies who complete a drug deal and then ride off on a journey of spiritual enlightenment seeking truth, peace and happiness in Nixon’s America. Watching Western’s with my Dad back in the day I noticed that they always put the good guys in white hats, omitting minutes of unnecessary explanation at the beginning of every movie. Instead of weighting the viewer down with colorless facts, Hopper brilliantly applied this approach to a Motorcycle movie and it worked. The Soundtrack to Easy Rider was a blazing success as well, 49 years later Steppenwolf’s Born to Wild, which was their first successful single, still gets tons of radio play. The minute it comes on the radio I can’t force my hips to stay still and I am convinced, more than ever, that I was indeed “Born to be Wild”
The truth is we all are.
The last couple of days have been extremely uncomfortable for me and influenced by some shitty ups and downs. I have come to the conclusion that often when I feel frustrated and upset I attack myself and I become disappointed in myself. I am beginning to see very clearly that these periods of discomfort are the consequence of a huge inner battle. An uneasy conflict between my comfort zone and my true nature; my desire to grow. Every time I fight what is in front of me, the path that I am stepping into, I am unnerved.
For years society has put us into well arranged and tidy roles, organized by labels and ill fitting boxes.
I for one feel fucking cramped!!!
Our comfort zone keeps us safe and cozy because it is familiar and even though staying firmly rooted in it may not always be the healthiest or wisest choice, we find relief in what we know.
What happens when we outgrow the box, when jamming ourselves into that stupid box every single day, and lining up in a neat and tidy row makes us sad and sick? Do we shrink to fit; do we dim our lights to fit into a dreary row? Do we trade our freedom for the titles that society bestowed on us? We are men, women, mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, leaders, role models…there are expectations and responsibilities for us after all.
I am a wild woman. My true nature is freedom. I will not be bound by a role that society defined for me. I will not shrink into a well labeled, neatly organized box.
Do you know what I mean by the Titanic pose?
Do you ever imagine yourself as Rose at the railing of the Titanic with your arms outstretched, wind in your hair and that feeling of flying? Rose was fighting against the pressures of a relationship that made her feel dead inside. She was about to trade, liberty and choice for money and esteem, a life that would diminish her in all of the truly important ways. We see it so very clearly on the big screen, cinematic magic sweeps us into a place where for a short time we can imagine being Rose, we understand her restraints and we understand the wild independence she longs for. Alas, the credits roll and we say goodbye to the beautiful fantasies that will live only in our memories because we cannot possibly have everything we want in life and still feel free! Can we?
I think we can. I think it is possible.
Every human has four endowments – self awareness, conscience, independent will and creative imagination. These give us the ultimate human freedom… The power to choose, to respond, to change.
~ Stephen Covey
When I lost my husband Kirk to the devastating effects of depression and mental illness I knew immediately that to honor him I had to live my best life, a life full of the lasting peace and joy that he so very much desired. The second I knew he was gone I was hit in the face with the reality that it would be me teaching our children how to move forward gracefully, how to embrace life and live big. Every bit of me knew how important it would be to embark on a journey with myself and take the time to fully be with me, void of the labels of wife, spouse or widow. I very much wanted to free myself from the societal fabricated restraints of what it meant to live and heal and grieve.
I learned from Anne Lamont that laughter is carbonated holiness and Glennon Doyle Melton reminded me that there is sacredness in tears and I learned that I can experience both of those things quite intensely without one experience diminishing the other.
Grief has become my teacher.
In the last several months I am working towards who I want to be in the world and sometimes I feel unnerved because parts of me are being stripped away, parts of me that I have held unto with bloody knuckles because it is all I have ever known.
There is a freedom in reclaiming the wild-hearted person you were always meant to be but sometimes you feel unrecognizable to yourself and that can be scary. It can often be mistaken for feeling broken but I truly believe it is healing and becoming.
Grief really makes you take a look at life and consider the impermanence of it all. Life, love, it is all transitional, fleeting. Like the waves of the ocean (thanks Roberta Shephard) we can drown trying to hold unto all of it, some things are not meant to be bound.
I see my friends in various stages of discontent, holding unto things that cause them hurt or things that take away their freedom, relationships defined by chains, and expectations, magnifying insecurities and creating resentments. We have been doing things all wrong for so long!!
From the time I was a little girl I can recall a saying that I believe my mom taught me, “When you love something set it free, if it comes back to you it’s yours, if it doesn’t, it never was”
I loved that saying forever but I want to change it up just a bit, people do not belong to each other, we are not objects and we belong only to ourselves. If we love someone we should ALWAYS, no matter what the circumstances, want them to feel free. Anything else is not love, it is fear based on attachment and the want for comfort and security. Sometimes our true power lies not in holding on with bloodstained hands but in letting go and finding our own way to create happiness and freedom.
The truth is that death has a lot to teach us about love and living. I feel deep gratitude that I had the opportunity to love a person so deeply, that even in his physical absence he is able to guide, support and encourage me. I am reminded every single day that true love should feel like pure freedom and the importance of loving and supporting myself so that when the time comes that romantic love comes knocking, I will answer the door because I have love to give, not because I desperately need love. I think that is a very important distinction in our relationships.
We were not born wild and free only to allow ourselves to be bound by chains. As my talented friend Charlie A ‘Court croons, chains of love, are chains just the same.
Just for a second today, imagine yourself standing at the railing of the Titanic with the ocean breeze in your hair, arms outstretched like you can fly, or imagine yourself on the top of a mountain, lungs on fire but arms in the air, relishing not in just the view from the top but the tenacity it took to climb it, that is freedom. Feel it, love it, and crave it.
You too, were born to be wild.
Make your moments count, make a difference and make sure that you live and love in a way that allows you and others to feel free.
We are driven by five genetic needs: survival, love and belonging, power, freedom, and fun.
There are very few people that see us from every angle, allowing that requires an extreme amount of vulnerability but it also creates beautiful and unique friendships and relationships that weather storms. These are the people you want to see you through the very best and the very worst times in your life.
In 1982 Duran Duran released Hungry like the Wolf from the album Rio. Though they initially failed to successfully crossover to U.S. markets, success was imminent in the U.K. and eventually MTV put the song on rotation earning it a #3 spot on the U.S. Billboards Top 100 in March of 1983 and in 1984 they won a Grammy for best short form music video. I was just 10 years old when Duran Duran won a Grammy and I am assuming I was oblivious to the rampant sexual undertones of the song but the parallels to the Little Red Riding Hood were not lost on me.
I know useless music facts, I have actually forgotten more than I know but I have spent many a late night arguing music trivia with my late husband and I have always been able to relate a song to something that was happening in my life and piece together a timeline. Not everyone who knows me knows how important music has been in my life but I would say most of my people do.
In September 2016 I was at English Bay with Kirk and I got a call from an old friend in Ontario that I had not seen in well over 20 years. She and her husband own an Irish pub in London Ontario, where I called home for a short time during my informative years (party)
It was music trivia night and something was not working properly and my friend was desperate to find out what a video was so that she didn’t disappoint the customers. She described the video to me and feeling a bit overwhelmed and under pressure I guessed that the video was Duran Duran’s Rio. I recall that I was really excited to speak to my old friend but also thrilled that music had made her think of me.
I myself am not musical, I played a tiny bit of guitar when I was in junior high and I played the ukulele as well but I cannot carry a tune in a bucket except for Cyndi Lauper songs and have been known to sing Time after Time on repeat to the point of nausea. However, I love music and it has connected me to the most amazing people and experiences in my lifetime. Those who know me well know that I will often use song lyrics in everyday situations but something that may be less known is that I used healing music extensively after Kirk died; Snatam Kaur’s music got me through some very difficult times. I also listen to many types of music including classical, folk and blues.
I am very open on my blog and you can get a very good idea of who I am from reading what is essentially journal type entries but I am noticing lately that some people seem to be stuck on some sort of idea of who I am that they have created in their head. I think we are all guilty of that to some extent, we glimpse into peoples lives through social media and we are looking through a very small window and then we heap our own ideas and expectations unto a person and we have now decided who they are.
I have often said the truth is expansive and one of the most valuable lessons I learned from my late husband is about judgement. When we offer love and kindness before judgement a whole new world opens up to us. I used to be extremely guilty of putting people in little boxes, labeling them and putting them into neat little piles. I no longer decide who people are, I allow them to show me who they are and the great thing is that when we approach people with kindness before judgment we invite them to be their true selves and we learn that people really can be fabulous and they do not have to be just like us to teach us, to support us and to be in our lives. What a boring place the world would be if we were all exactly the same.
I form deep connections with people, it has always been my thing, I am not immune to physical attraction but for me I really like to know someone’s mind. I admit I spent a great deal of time wanting everyone to be like me and shunning people that weren’t and I now believe that is an insecurity in us that we will either change to be like others or surround ourselves only by like minded people.
The problem with that is we lose a great deal of ourselves by changing to be like others, we lose the things that make us unique and often we compromise our ideals. We have a great deal to offer the world by embracing our authentic selves and giving that person to the world everyday, it is really the only way to continue to grow as individuals.
Just last week I told someone that they were into an idea of me, a profile picture and things they had projected unto me because they were qualities that their imagination wanted me to have. It was no better than a fantasy and the problem with that is people are very rarely the people we create in our heads, no matter how great our ingenuity is.
If we take 5 selfies and we post the best one, we may look absolutely stunning but we are more than that one angle. I am a culmination of who I am when I am happy, sad, struggling, creating, living and loving. I am so much more than a perfect selfie. I have friends, family, acquaintances and people I am fond of and curious about. I also have a small group of people that I call “my people”
There are very few people that see us from every angle, allowing that requires an extreme amount of vulnerability but it also creates beautiful and unique friendships and relationships that weather storms. These are the people you want to see you through the very best and the very worst times in your life.
When I was sat smack dab in the middle of black despair after losing my husband I was faced with rumors, judgment and innuendo. At that point I made a decision to continue to be who I am no matter what and if I was someone I was proud of the right people would be in my life and nothing else would matter. That alone has changed my life immensely and allowed me to see and accept myself as well as embrace others, all of the dark and all of the light that makes us fantastically beautiful mosaics.
The problem is, I can post a selfie and basically tell you what to look at, but I cannot tell you what to see. That is entirely up to you.
Some of you will read this and take from it that Michelle knows useless 1980’s music trivia and that is fine. The reason I chose that song title is that I truly believe that we are all hungry to be deeply known, loved and understood. The thing to remember is that people can only know you and love you as deeply as they know and love themselves. A person who does not love and accept themselves entirely cannot possibly love you the way you want them to and sustain that. In turn if we do not love ourselves entirely and continue to invest in ourselves it is almost arrogant to assume that anyone else should invest in us if we have already deemed ourselves unworthy.
If I could ask one thing of you today it would be to love yourself, not in five years, not when you get a promotion or lose twenty pounds or quit drinking, love yourself right now and grow from there. Love your friends, your family and your co-workers, not for who you want them to be, not for who you know they can be but for who they are. Meet them right where they are and see how acceptance and authentic love encourages them to expand and fill their space in the world.
Happy Tenacious Tuesday!
“We are no guiltier in following the primitive impulses that govern us than is the Nile for her floods or the sea for her waves.”
I have spent the last week predominantly in comfy clothes (some might call them pajamas) with no make-up and hair piled on top of my head, alternating between Netflix and sweeping dog hair off the floors. It has been an extremely relaxing week off work to say the least. On Sunday I slept late, and during my last hour in dreamland I had convinced myself that I had written this amazing blog post for Tenacious Tuesday, that it was fabulous as well as scheduled to be published first thing this morning. In the Tim Horton’s drive thru I realized that it had been a dream and I searched my brain to recall what it was I had written about in my dream that I was so excited about. Somewhere between scoffing down a horribly burnt medium black coffee and a bagel belt which was weirdly missing the lettuce and tomato, so basically just a bagel be; I totally lost any recollection of the awesomeness I had intended.
I usually do not stress about my Tuesday post; the universe always has my back and a topic always pops in my head at the last minute. Instead of stressing out I indulged in Season 2 of Ozark and I have to say the writers on this show are fucking brilliant. Helen, the lawyer on this season of Ozark has the best one liners and though you recognize that she is appropriately pleasant when the occasion calls for it, you never for one second doubt that she would cut you in pieces and put you in a wood chipper and finish the day off with a nice 18 year single malt scotch without even batting an eye if that is what was needed. Even knowing that, the writers have managed to make her somewhat likeable.
“Hey Helen with the slicked back hair, pale face, black cherry lipstick and charcoal grey pantsuits, I get you. Your composed ruthlessness and ambiguous half smile are kind of sexy in a bit of an alarming way.”
It is stunning to me what a room full of good writers can pull off but alas even this line “It’s the first law of power Marty, those who can; shit on others, those who can’t clean it up!”, did not trigger a topic for me to write about.
I made dinner, watched Haley have a first day of grade nine eve dance party, talked to Morgan about heartbreak, spoke with a friend about exes and then it was an article about a couple in China that went to the doctor after failing to conceive a baby for four years in which the woman had been enduring painful sex, only to find that they had been having ONLY anal sex for four years and that the woman was still a virgin that I yelled “AY CARUMBA” in a loud yet somewhat sexy Spanish accent sounding like a cross between an intoxicated Sofía Vergara and an angry Eva Longoria that I decided to talk about my favorite subject in the entire world ‘SEX’.
So, even though those badasses Salt N Pepa said it said it first, “Let’s talk about sex baby!”
Sex has always been a fascinating topic to me, it astounds me that people are having a lot of sex yet not talking about it and some people are not having a lot of sex and still not talking about it. I have always been extremely open in talking about sex with my children. Ultimately it is something that they are going to do at some point, and I hope that when they choose to have sex that it is safe and meaningful and I also want them to know that it is supposed to feel good for both partners.
The “Me Too” movement has opened up a lot of dialogue surrounding consent, respect and responsibility in regards to sex, however, I know that there are a lot of situations that those engaged in having sex do not actually feel comfortable enough to speak up when things do not feel right, or to ask for consent. I am not a prude at all when it comes to sex, though I do think at the very least a prerequisite for having sex with someone should be feeling comfortable enough to talk about what is happening and whether it is OK with both partners (or all partners, who am I to judge?)
SEX IS EVERYWHERE
In our culture sex is used to attract and distract, entertain, allure and sell. Though we have all been guilty of constant concern and petty gossip surrounding the sex lives of others, studies suggest that partners are not able to talk to each other openly about their own sex lives. Astoundingly, this is not an issue that is reserved for youth or couples in new relationships, couples in long term relationships and those who have been married for decades have a difficult time not only talking about sex but communicating their wants and needs.
If you have spent any time with me at all you may have heard me say that sex is like pizza, “When it’s good, it’s really good and when it’s bad, it’s still pizza and you will have a second slice!”
That is actually complete bullshit, it is 2018 and there is no reason for us to be having anything but fantastic sex and damn good pizza. I like all sorts of pizza but my favorite is thin crust veggie pizza and I am not afraid to tell Pizza Hut how I like it.
Remember during the Clinton scandal when Barbara Bush said Clinton lied because a man never forgets a blow job, even a shitty one? I think if we are going to make memories they should be memorable for all the right reasons. Almost as good as great sex is our recollection of it later.
If you choose to have sex it should always feel indulgent, but not like that extra cookie before bed because sex is actually good for your physical and emotional health in many surprising ways. It should feel indulgent like an extra scoop of french vanilla ice cream on your pumpkin pie, minus the guilt but double the satisfaction.
You don’t go to Fatburger for the garden salad, if you are in, be all in!
Sex should be empowering but should never be used to wield power over your partner or to shame, blame or hurt.
Sex and death remain two of the top subjects that people have the most difficulty talking about and understandably so, even those that believe in heaven are in no hurry to race to the pearly gates, but people seem to want more and more sex yet are less and less willing to have honest conversations about it.
I guess in a way, talking candidly about sex may present opportunities for embarrassment or ridicule but that has never been my experience, either in talking with my late husband and/or friends. I find it surprising how openly people can talk about sex when they feel like they are in a safe place of non-judgement yet for some reason they are not always in that place of comfort with their sexual partners. Without that level of comfort they fail to reveal their secret desires as well as their likes and dislikes and therefore sex can quickly become stale, almost as exciting as folding laundry. We will do it because when all the baskets are full we have to but we are not doing it as often as we should and we are not feeling fulfilled.
Intimacy was a huge part of my marriage and for that I am thankful. My late husband and I were together for twenty years and sex was not an issue for us though we did struggle through those early years with babies and full time jobs when sometimes the promise of extra sleep was a bit more alluring than a midnight romp. I realized quite quickly that good sex doesn’t have to take a long time and nothing makes you sleep better than the big “O”
I remember the one and only time that my late husband turned me down for sex saying he was too tired, I remember everything about how that made me feel, I even remember details of that day because I had changed our bedroom around and our bed was in a different location. I was so sullen, and it made me feel hurt and unwanted. We were having problems in our marriage that were not related to sex, in fact, with the stress of children and full time jobs we had almost lost our ability to communicate and if it were not for sex we may have completely lost our connection to one another. I believe that sex between lovers can be a language all on its own and if we are not able to effectively communicate, problems arise. There are times in our intimate relationships that we will inevitably face challenges, sex shouldn’t be one of them but it is right up there with finances and can cause the same degree of stress and discontent if left unattended.
I read a really interesting article relating to the impact that sexual rejection has on relationships and what was really interesting to me is that if women were the initiator’s of sex and were turned down they felt justified in their hurt and frustration but failed to see the same effect when they said no to their male partners because of the belief that the male need and want for sex is largely desire based and for females it is believed to be emotionally centered. Interestingly enough though; men experience the same amount of hurt and negative emotions when their sexual affections are dismissed, often affecting their confidence, ego and desire for their partners.
Sex is a wonderful expression of love between partners but sex and love can also be very separate things. They are not mutually exclusive and the outdated idea that it is supposed to be touching for the woman and gratifying for the man and that men should always initiate sex are things that I was never told by my mother during that awkward conversation about sex that we had all those years ago while sitting in my teenage bedroom surrounded by Jon Bon Jovi posters, yet they are things I spent a great deal of time believing nonetheless.
Intimate love and sex go hand in had, I believe that to be true, but I also believe that there are people having great sex without love and commitment and though I think that is wonderful for them I think that there is an important distinction that should be made when entering into sexual relationships, sex is a beautiful and healthy way to express and celebrate the love we have for another person but sex does not guarantee that someone will love us. I think this is an important discernment for all sexually active individuals. In healthy relationships, whether they are committed or not, sex should not be used as a commodity.
Everyone has their own opinions about sex, intimacy and its importance in relationships and the great thing is that none of us are wrong in our personal opinions but i believe that both partners views about sex, the importance of, and the frequency of should be considered, and even in the most casual of sexual relationships; safety, comfort and pleasure should always be priorities. If sex is on the menu, serve it right!
Our sex lives are heavily shaped by culture, perception and expectations, some of what we know or have come to expect is clouded by Harlequin romances or better yet porn, both are for entertainment, not education. The best way to know what your partner is turned on by is to ask them because nine out of ten times Fabio hair and fisting is not it.
I encourage you all to be tenacious this Tuesday and initiate a conversation with your significant other about sex. I wish you good luck and great sex.
“The sexual embrace can only be compared with music and with prayer.”