Tag: sexuality

  • One

    I want to write about my new loves.

    For now I’ll call them One and Two.

    There have been more potential possibilities, but these are the only ones I’ve let into my heart thus far.

    I’ll start at the beginning…

    This post is for One.

    He was my first date.

    So sweet and tender, I felt safe with One even just through our messages beforehand.

    So loving and yet so limited with that love, I’ve learned his boundaries come from wounds.

    When One touches me- it is gentle, sensual, gentlemanly…

    Until we get back to his place, and then there is more urgency. More desire. More assertiveness.

    When One talks to me in person, he does so with deep curiosity and care and genuine interest for learning more about me.

    Our conversations take us to rich places where each of our stories are shared in great detail.

    One has fire in his belly, a calling to make a difference in this world through activism and organizing, lifting up the marginalized, and living with true integrity and honor.

    In between our meetings, One and I don’t talk.

    It’s just easier that way I’ve found.

    He has a lot of wounding around boundaries and (I think) a lot of anxiety that I’m going to fall in love with him.

    Early on, every message I’d send seemed to nudge right up to the edge of his comfort zone, and it led to me feeling like I was always tiptoeing around.

    So I suggested we only message when we were ready to see one another, and he was amenable.

    I can tell he misses me sometimes, and wishes it felt easier to connect in between our times together.

    We decided early on we’d have a monthly date, yet I’ve noticed I’ll often hear from him after only two or three weeks.

    I hope that the more he learns he can trust me with his limits, the less he’ll feel the need to hold them so firmly.

    One was my first new intimate adventure in almost two decades.

    When I told him that afterwards, I could tell it made him nervous.

    See, he actually cares really deeply about how others feel.

    He doesn’t want to create a situation where someone needs more from him than he can offer, and their heart gets hurt.

    I’m also fairly certain there’s a part of him that’s afraid he’ll fall in love too, and he’s not ready for that.

    I recently just finally articulated that he didn’t need to keep panicking that I’d fall in love with him.

    That I felt like he was a good friend, one that I also loved being intimate with.

    That he could calm down already, for goodness sake!

    I think it embarrassed him a bit for me to name it.

    But also, he’s not wrong to worry.

    I wouldn’t tell him this, but I do love him.

    How could I not?

    My heart was made for this kind of connecting.

    This intimacy.

    This sharing of ourselves with each other.

    And love doesn’t scare me the way it does for so many people.

    Love doesn’t require commitment, more demand, more rules.

    Not for me.

    I wish it could be as freely received by others as I offer it, because it would be so liberating to be able to express it openly.

    But it’s too scary for One.

    So I keep it to myself.

    I share my affection through my intention as I listen to him speak about his life.

    With my touch as we share our bodies with one another.

    With my kiss as we say farewell, until the next time.

    One feels like home, and also like fire.

    One activates the lover and the fighter in me, weaving the two energies into a beautiful spark that brings light and warmth into my life.

    One makes me want to stand up more, pay more attention, remember my privilege and the responsibility that comes with it.

    On our first date, I could tell One fell hard for me.

    And then it scared him.

    He held my hand that first night, and let his excitement about me peek through his walls.

    He hasn’t reached for my hand since…

    He’s more careful now, reserved and restrained.

    And I meet him there, I don’t mind.

    But am always hoping some evening I’ll feel his hand find mine and embrace it.

    I’m always waiting, with patience and grace, for him to decide he’s ready to let me in.

    Yet truly, I’ll understand if he never arrives there.

    One- I love you, and I’m so glad I found you first.

    Thank you for being the beginning of my new adventure.

    You were the perfect starting place, and I hope our journey together continues.

  • Discernment

    I wonder if I can really do this.

    Navigate all these new pieces all at once.

    Can I really hold tenderness and vulnerability within casualness and boundaries?

    Can I be a friend… with benefits?

    Can I hold my husband’s sweet sensitive heart and still keep growing in this way?

    I’m really not sure yet.

    Whether I truly have capacity for all of this growth happening inside me.

    One of my connections shared a book with me, and I’ve been reading it.

    The Ethical Slut.

    When it arrived in the mail I opened it to the middle.

    It was the first page of a chapter titled Abundance.

    It talked about starvation economies, and how we’ve been taught to believe that love is finite.

    As though there’s only so much to go around and we need to hold onto it with a white knuckled grip.

    That there is a scarcity mindset wrapped up in the monogamous framework we’re all cultured in.

    I didn’t read the whole chapter, but far enough to realize how deeply embedded these concepts are in me.

    The notion that my heart is limited in how it can hold love, and I have to share it as though it will run out at some point.

    I’m slowly untangling these beliefs inside myself, but they’re woven rather tightly into how I’ve always seen love and relationships and my own identity.

    I’m still really discerning whether I can feel safe and comfortable having physical intimacy with someone without deep, devoted emotional intimacy.

    Even if it’s not dependent on a monogamous covenant, I still find myself preferring to know and care for someone’s heart in a deep way and feel that reciprocated.

    I wonder if I can securely hold that depth in myself, even when it’s not met by a connection I’m sharing my body with.

    I wonder if I even want to.

    So far I’ve only crossed that threshold once with someone new, but as I continue to connect with others I find myself conflicted in my heart’s capacity and true desires.

    Such a part of this journey for me comes from my huge heart and yearning to share my abundance of love with more people.

    I’m just not sure yet if physical love alone is enough for me, when it means I have to withhold or restrain my emotions in tandem.

    I’ve always felt I needed both.

    Now I’m opening to curiosity, and maybe am needing to try it all out just to see.

    How will I really know my truth if I don’t inquire and experience all the different languages it can speak?

    How will I learn where I am if not through examining and discovering where I am not?

    Yet I know I need to tread carefully and slowly on this path.

    I know it might mean hurt feelings and missteps and trepidation.

    I know this heart of mine is tender in its nature, and as its guardian I need to explore without abandoning its protection.

    I know this is a calling of reverence and grace and above all…

    I must lead with love, for others yes, but first and foremost myself.