Looking back over my past big relationships, it’s interesting that sex (lack of) was a major issue in all of them. Whether it was distance, lack of interest on his part, or other things, I never seemed to match up with my partner in terms of frequency or fulfillment.
During this time of self-imposed celibacy, I’ve thought about it a lot, actually, and I often wonder why the Universe would set me up like that. But maybe it’s been a lesson in Love, after all.
My first experiences with sexuality were about feeling good and “doing it.” I felt like such a freak that I waited so long to have sex – it was something that made me finally feel “normal” and of course, I liked it.
While I loved the men in these relationships, I had never lived in Love until lately. I’ve written so much about how my heart has finally opened up and what a brand new experience that is for me. Having sex while I was shut down emotionally was probably just a step above using my vibrator.
What would have happened if I had found a life partner who enjoyed sex as much as I did and we spent the last 20 years numbing out and fucking? Maybe not having sex as frequently as I would like offered me the chance to wake up and feel my own heartbeat.
I suspect that the next time I do have sex, it will be much more than a feel-good activity. I anticipate nothing less than a mind-blowing, earth-shaking, magical, beautiful, wonderful expression of this growing Love in my life.
I forgive myself for all of the times I accepted sex when I wanted Love, and I thank the Universe for protecting me from myself when I didn’t know any better.