I want to talk about my relationship.
About what my relationship has taught me about myself.
Things I didn’t know. Things whose power and implications shake me to the very bottom of my soul.
Also, sex. Mmmkay?
A Deeply Feminine Woman
I still have so much trauma around it that it’s physically difficult to type, but out from under all the awful things we say about the feminine, I am squeaking in my little voice: “yeah…that’s me.”
My whole life I’ve just wanted to have my feelings and nurture everyone and have tons of babies.
Sure I was a competitive ski racer and a debate superstar, a straight A student, and I certainly didn’t spend a second on my looks.
I learned to develop my masculine. Which is good and very important. But it didn’t change the cant of my soul.
I love men. I love flirting with them. I love radiating beauty and I love them watching me. I love challenging them on their purpose, inviting them back into their bodies. I love being deeply present in anger and sadness, letting wildness tear through me and open us both up.
I love being submissive, caught, tamed, taken by someone powerful enough to do it. I adore being fucked.
I love receiving
And all of it terrifies me, of course. Because it’s very much not how my internal committee thinks a modern, effective woman should act.
But it makes me so very happy.
I’m never as satisfied as I am when I’m challenging the world to be strong enough to take me.
This is what my relationship is about
At one level, at least. We’re also about a lot of other things.
David (that’s my love) has loved me deeper, stronger, sweeter, harder and more thoroughly than anyone, ever.
I’ve had rollicking orgasms just hugging him. He’s opened up tender, hurting places in my soul and adored me through the resultant earthquakes.
He fucks me into tears, into such deep connection with the wild, passionate, hurting, angry, powerful woman inside of me.
And when he’s in a place of deep masculine he finds this “cute.” Never did I think someone could call my sobbing wrathful soul “cute” with such respect that it feels akin to worship.
And we want kids
I’m going to have his children from this same place of deep connection. He’s going to enter me and change me from the inside out.
How I move, how I look, how I feel…all completely transformed because of our love. Because of the miraculous power and strange beauty of sex in this world.
We’re going to surrender to the whole crazy history of humanity, to affirm that we want it to go forward. We’re going to pray wild prayers with our bodies for the privilege of inviting another soul into this fabulous life.
It’s all well and good when it happens in the safety of our beautiful sanctuary home.
Or when we’re spending time with someone who “gets it.”
But out in a world filled with people who have their stuff?
I’m so afraid of being crucified, but that fear doesn’t change the truth. (The fear is just my stuff.)
The truth is that when I look at him, I feel a crazy lightness in my chest, and I want to keep looking.
He is so free and genuine with the world that I think my heart will stop. I want to scream at everyone interacting with him: “Do you understand how very authentic he’s being right now? That’s his heart he’s using to speak to you. Don’t you dare step on it!”
I know anything could happen. But no matter where things go from here, I won’t regret living this ecstatically.
So I’m learning to live my life with my heart wide open and calling. To the constant yearning for him, and the yearning through him to my own masculine, the world’s masculine, the divine masculine.
I work on my business and love him. Clean the house and love him. Drive my car and love him. Talk to my friends and love him.
I’m learning to accept and befriend, even honor, that great hole in my life where I long for him. To make space for my crazy wild feminine, how it is the hole, and the whole.
But mostly I’m learning to love. He’s teaching my whole spirit how to love.
That’s what I worked on last week. Not like it was earth shattering or anything. Not like everything’s changed. Oh…wait…
So yes, my Rally was pretty powerful.
It would have been nice if I’d been able to learn it all without spending so much time listening to my monsters, but in the end I got it.
Is there anything I want to clarify or expand on?
I want to mention that we are also very human. That we are frequently scared and fighting and pig-headed and highly critical of flaws in ourselves and each other. Nothing superhuman here. Just broken, hurting people learning to love each other. That’s what’s so beautiful.
I didn’t have an orgasm until I was 19. I didn’t have one with someone else until I was 21. I’m 24 now. I’m not naturally good at intimacy and I’m not naturally good at sex.
This level of connection doesn’t have to be something you want, but if you do, it is entirely possible for you. Because it was possible for me, and I’m pretty damn fucked up.
One day I’m going to teach this. I’m going to get a bunch of women together in a room and we’re going to practice surrendering to ecstasy.
In the meantime, I am finding my voice to talk about it. Yay for voices and sharing and truth and ecstasy. So happy to have all of these things right now.
Super strong sovereignty force fields here! Maybe this post is a mirror?
At any rate, we’re all going to avoid giving unsolicited advice, criticism, or psychoanalysis.
Do you have something alive in you from reading this? Some juicy beautiful story or insight to share?
Or maybe you want to leave some sparkles or an echo, or to sit this one out.
I’m excited to hear from you (or not).