Sex and HeartHow I transformed devastation into love and loving lust

Do you respect me? Do you care about how I feel?

I’ve been asking you for your help, and you’ve been wonderful, seemingly open and honest and generous. This has felt really, really good.

I also made a small request, to not look when I’m right here or outside, a tiny concession considering all of this I’ve done and continue to do.

You said it would not be a problem. I was already reduced to behavior a couple of weeks ago that I abhor (snooping) which felt bad enough, but to have my suspicions confirmed made me feel so bad, confused, and upset.

You said in defense that you thought it was no big deal now that this door has been opened, so then why hide it and lie about it? You said that it was just a white lie and though it did not feel as such to me and still doesn’t, I let all of this go because I realize that this all new for you too, and maybe you were unsure as to how I would react. Maybe you were testing me to see if I was checking up on you.

But I have this nagging feeling from the other day that won’t leave me, and I hate feeling it. I don’t want to think that you would go back on your word and then lie to me about it. Do you have anything you want to say to me?

This is what I wanted to say. I’m happy I didn’t. Too confrontational, yet not a bad speech.

July, 2008

It feels awful being me sometimes. My little brain gets in my way. It lies to me. It creates monsters from little things or out of nothing at all. Learning to quiet the voices, learning to let go has not been easy. It’s still an effort, and I’m still learning.

I’ve been working so hard for almost three years, harder than ever, and it has felt horrible, ugly, and painful. It has felt as though my deepest stuff was tapped into, opening up thick, black ickyness. There have been times of such despair I felt like giving up, but there have also been some lovely moments which have kept me going.

What pushed me onto this part of my journey has been challenging all by itself. It has haunted me, been on my mind constantly from whispers in the background to full on screaming. I have felt trapped in a prison of my own creation where I have struggled with it and suffered over it. What little respite there has been has been found in sleep, for curiously I never once dreamed about it.

I’ve tried everything conceivable from ignoring it to pretending it’s not there to fighting it to torturing myself with it. None of these tactics worked for very long. I felt that the only option left aside from leaving was to come directly to you, talk with you, ask you questions, and open the door to sharing it with you, but this has meant turning some of my belief systems upside down and inside out, changing almost everything I have felt about it.

All of this that I’ve been doing feels huge. It is huge. Maybe I’m discovering a part of me I didn’t know was there which could be really nice, but I can’t say I feel secure in it all. I feel unsure about it all. I feel conflicted, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel okay with you looking at pictures when I’m right here, in the other room, or outside in the garden. This just doesn’t feel good at all.

July, 2008

I’ve been feeling upset. I don’t want to feel upset. This is all so new, and I’m having conflicting feelings about it. Part of me is aroused by it, especially thinking of us doing it together. I want to do it again.

Another part of me is upset by it, especially thinking of you doing it by yourself even though I know you save it, your orgasms, for me. I’m finding myself thinking about it all the time again.

You told me a long time ago that you don’t do it when I’m around. Now I”m wondering if that’s changed. The thought of you doing it when I’m in the other room feel icky.

July, 2008

“I have a problem. Can you help me please? There’s this big, white elephant that sits in this room a great deal of the time, for a long time now.

I’ve tried ignoring him, but he talks to me, tells me fantastic stories. I’ve tried pretending he’s not there, but he sneaks up behind me and grabs me, squeezes me so hard I almost can’t breathe.

I’ve tried fighting him, but sooner or later he pins me down, and I feel helpless before him, especially since he’s been hurting me so much.

I want to ask you to show me what you look at. Show me what you do. In order for me to understand something, for example human nature, behaviors, I need to feel it, feel how it is to want to do things, behave a certain way, feel how it is for the person.

Ignoring it or pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t work for me, for it simply creeps back to haunt me, makes me feel bad, causes me to close my heart, disconnect, and this is dangerous for an intimate relationship.

Putting up with it without the understanding is also a bad idea, for bad feelings of another sort can and usually do accrue, resentment, anger, hatred.”

I’ve had glimpses of how it might be for him for him when he looks and though I know it’s not at all how I’ve imagined it, especially when I feel low, it’s still not been enough for me to integrate, own, and I still haven’t understood, so the glimpses haven’t lasted long, haven’t been deeply felt.

Many people have told me many things, him included, and all of it has helped, but it wasn’t getting me to feel it. Sharing it with him implanted it deeply within in me. I felt, saw, touched, played with the whole thing with him and shared what turned out to be a highly erotic, fun, sexual experience.

Some of the old feelings are still there out of habit I suppose since they’ve been with me for three years, but they merely whisper ever so softly and only every now and then. I trust thought that they will soon fade away to nothing.

Whenever there is a significant opening in me physically, especially in my back around the heart, I feel flooded with fear. At these times I feel as though I flinch in response to every little thing. The fears fill my dreams, indifference, neglect, abandonment.

Recently I feel like I sense things from you, but I don’t know anymore if it’s you, or if it’s really me. It seems as though you are a little withdrawn, or is it me who is withdrawn? It seems as though you are wary of me, or is it me who is wary? It seems as though you are a little unhappy, or is it me who is unhappy? It seems as though you are a little sad, or is it me who is sad? It seems as though you are a little distracted, or is it me who is distracted? It seems as though you are a little angry, or is it me who is angry?

I can’t tell the difference. Maybe I never could. I feel confused. I don’t like feeling these things. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I’m tired of it. I’m afraid you are tiring of it. I’m afraid you are going to abandon me.

This stuff keeps coming up. I’m afraid of it, but I welcome it too. I want to get it out, release it. It feels like I’m at the heart of all of this, and this piece is resistant and resilient, a piece I likely put in place with good reason. It was necessary for my survival then and for a long time hence. I want to believe I don’t need this piece anymore, but apparently not all of me is convinced, for that piece still clings to me for dear life. It’s afraid. I’m afraid, to let go.

I can’t stop this process. I don’t want to. As horrible as it feels sometimes, I feel some of those fingers that hang on so desperately are losing and have even lost some of their hold. I want that piece to be freed. I want my heart to be free. I don’t want any more limitations or conditions on her.

She wants so much to love fully, completely, without fear, open and vulnerable, pure. I feel it sometimes, and it feels sweet, lusty, luscious, passionate, and wonderful. I love it. I love you.