Fucked up title right?! I know. And yet it took me over twenty years to realize that this was really how I learned about sex. From the guy who "loved" me and I would spend the rest of my life with. Good lord I'm so glad none of that was true! He was also the guy who
cheated on me, tried to manipulate me and projected guilt when other guys looked at me, lied to me, gave me crabs (and blamed me even though he was the only person I had ever slept with) and eventually choked me and bashed my head into a dresser.
So fast forward many years later and I'm reflecting about the ways that I know (or don't know) about my body, what it does, how it feels and the reality of my physical body. It seemed so weird that I had many lovers since this abusive narcissist, three babies and thought of myself somewhat as a sex goddess and truly did not know all the magic within my being. Sure, I could orgasm really well and had no problem turning my partner on. So what was missing?
Well let me start by saying that I would have never figured this out if I had not separated from the man I loved. Which you can read about some other time. Hopefully I'll put a link HERE ;)
So on the road of single-hood, which appeared to be a death sentence at this point in my life, I knew that I was worth way more than a fling AND I also knew that I was coming into my sexual prime. No joke sisters! These hormones (aka whore moans) were raging. So this meant that I couldn't stop thinking about sex. My girlfriends were constantly having to listen to me talk about penises and vaginas. I saw them everywhere and could turn any comment into a sexual innuendo. Nearly any man that walked by could be seen as attractive in some way. It was bad and I was losing my mind. So of course I was masturbating. But did I mention that I have three kids... two of them live with me full time and we live in an RV. So masturbating regularly and in any way truly satisfying posed many challenges. This meant that I found myself limited to using my magic bullet in our tiny bathroom after the kids went to sleep. Boooooo! This is not satisfying. Maybe relieving when I'm seeing dicks in the smeared toothpaste on the bathroom window but NOT SATISFYING!
So then what?
Well, first I had to really make time for myself. This meant that when the kids went to their dads, that I actually had to choose to stay home, with myself and explore. Sex! with myself, for myself. This was a new and fairly uncomfortable task for me in the beginning...
(Continued 4/1/18) It meant I fantasized about myself and envisioned how I wished to be touched by a partner... And then I needed to touch myself in that way. It meant I had to walk through the feelings of being silly or ridiculous. Thoughts like "who stays home on a Saturday and masturbates?" Well, I did. And it was well worth it. I felt a little pep in my step and I was grateful that I went through those uncomfortable, yet short lived moments of feeling funny. You see, the truth is, we as women are not encouraged to go hang out in our rooms as young beings; to explore and learn about our bodies. We learned what not to do... 1. Don't get pregnant. 2. Don't get an STD! 3. Don't have sex. --- So to be in my sexual prime with high standards and no one I'd like to engage with intimately, I began to explore... I wrote about Sex with Myself in another blog. So enough on that.
So I began this blog on 7/7/17 and then saved it. It has come & gone in my mind over the months. Two days ago I listened to a podcast on Super Soul Sunday with Oprah & Salma Heyek Pinault. During this conversation I heard the women talk about PTSD, shame, fear and talk of the voice inside that says, someone has already said it. Salma talked about how she took her time when she decided to write her essay about her experiences with being sexually assaulted. She talked about many things that struck a cord for me. It gave me the gentle nudge to finish this blog. Because she is right... there are many women who have said these things before, in a variety of ways. We have all had similar experiences when it comes to being mistreated. And I want to share parts of my story so that others can be brave also. To know they are not alone. And to know that there is healing available.
I sat in Church today on Easter Sunday... (another funny feeling when I type that sentence) I never thought I'd say... And then I want to tell you, it isn't "that" kind of church. The guy up front talked about what it means to be living a life of purpose and to show through our behavior what we believe. I believe that no matter what you have gone through, no matter the story you tell, we are all made of love and healing is possible. It is my deepest dream & desire to bring this to light for those who are suffering. I didn't grow up in a snuggle fest full of kisses & hugs. My first boyfriend projected his hurt toward me; tried to dim my light because he too was hurting inside. He objectified my body because that is what he learned and I said yes because I didn't learn how to say no. The way I defined love was a lie.
I have not spoken to this person in nearly 20 years. But I have forgiven him. I forgave him so that I could be free. Free from resentment or wishing ill upon him. Free from the idea that the past could be any different. And yet... This doesn't mean that he feels guilty or has apologized. This doesn't mean that he even acknowledges he was unkind to me. And this certainly does NOT mean that what he did was acceptable. This just means that I am free from any tethers that once weighed me down & had me thinking that he ever affected my spirit. My truth. And that is that I am a divine being, unchangeable & of Spirit.