Lineage

This journey I’m on started with two women.

My mom, who died.

And in her death, freed me from the trauma and fear I’d carried on her behalf my whole life.

And my ex, who was resurrected.

My first love, my high school sweetheart.

We reconnected after mom passed, and fell hard and fast all over again.

But it was hard.

Too hard.

You’re married, she said.

She’d always be wanting more, and I’d always be going home to someone else.

I understood, but it broke my heart.

If I’m being honest I’m still in love with her.

So much so that I can’t talk to her or be friends without it hurting.

So we went our separate ways.

And I started dating.

I thought it would be women.

I thought maybe I needed to explore my bisexuality more.

I thought I’d be more comfortable in that dynamic.

But interestingly, it hasn’t.

It’s been men.

The women I like, don’t seem to like me.

Maybe I’m too straight looking?

Maybe it’s that I’m married to a man?

Maybe they just aren’t into non-monogamy?

Whatever the reason, women and I aren’t happening right now.

But some of these men…

Wow.

The last time I was single I was 22.

The men, more accurately boys, that were available to me felt so stunted and not emotionally safe.

Reopening this door now, two decades later, has been surprising and rather taken my breath away.

All these years I’ve been married and monogamous, those boys have been growing and evolving and maturing.

Not all of them.

I’m definitely coming across boys masquerading as men too…

But some of them have surprised me at every turn.

These beautiful, emotionally intelligent, communicative, honorable men.

Every belief my mother taught me about them is being challenged, reframed, and transformed through these connections.

I find myself healing in ways I never knew I needed to.

Shifting generational patterns and healing the sexual trauma of my maternal lineage, as naturally as breathing air in and out.

It’s just, happening.

And I’m realizing yes, I’m healing, growing, evolving in my sexuality for me.

But also, I’m doing it for them.

All the women who came before me.

All the women who will come after me.

The ones who never felt safe to heal those wounds themselves.

The ones who were shown that this world was not made to safely hold a woman’s embodied sexual development.

The ones who were abused and assaulted and then utterly silenced in that trauma.

The ones who carried that pain to their graves and along the way completely dissociated from their own bodies.

My reclamation of this part of me is so much bigger than my one little life.

It stretches backwards and forwards through time and space.

I hear their whispers in my ears as I stand in my power and inhabit my body in a way they never could.

Thank you, they exhale softly.

Thank you.