Ready

I wonder how it will go.

My first time with someone else in almost two decades.

My first time showing my naked body to another person, besides my husband, in 18 years.

My body has been through so much in that time.

It’s grown a human.

It’s given birth.

It’s offered five years of breastfeeding.

It’s grown so much.

Fuller. Wider. Stronger.

It has cellulite where it once was smooth.

It has curves where it once was slender.

What will he think when he sees it?

I’ve been so well loved and desired for so many years.

I haven’t had to wonder how someone new might view this earthly container I inhabit.

I think I’m ready.

To share myself in this way.

I think my husband is ready.

But there are little fears still.

What if it’s hard?

What if taking this step, crossing this line, is so vulnerable I cry?

Will this new connection be able to hold me in that?

Will I be able to hold myself through that?

And what if…

It’s amazing.

What if it’s not hard?

What if it’s easy and natural and just flows through me?

Is that ok too?

Part of me can’t wait.

To feel him up against me.

His skin, his hands, his arms wrapped around me.

This part feels excitement and giddiness and adrenaline.

It just wants to lean in, to experience it all to the fullest.

To dive into the deep end and trust I can swim to the surface.

And part of me feels afraid, tender, anxious.

This part wants to hold onto my monogamous identity with a white knuckled grip.

I’ve always been so proud that I haven’t been with many people.

That I never really dated.

That I’d only ever loved two people.

Like it made me a good girl.

Made me sweet, innocent, pure.

It’s always been so ingrained in me that these are the ideal qualities for a woman.

That to have full agency of my sexuality and embody it fully would mean I was less somehow.

Less lovable.

Less honorable.

Less sacred.

If I shared my body with more people, then it would be less special and holy.

That in this way, less is more.

There’s grief around it for me.

This deeply embedded belief system that is slowly untangling itself within me.

Slowly, I’m awakening to the truth that my body and how I share it is mine and mine alone.

It doesn’t belong to purity culture.

It doesn’t belong to other people’s opinions.

It doesn’t even belong to my husband.

That my sexuality is sacred because of the reverence with which I hold it.

That the choices I make are part of a beautiful tapestry, woven with different hearts and bodies yet still sanctified by my unique thread of love.

Love for others but at its core, love for my self.

I think I’m ready.

Tonight.

To weave that thread with another again.

To merge my body with his for a moment in time.

To share myself again in this way, and see who I am in that space now.

To meet this new part of me for the first time, in this new realm.

I’m nervous.

I’m excited.

I’m ready.