Sex, Love and Fear.

Snuggles.
Intimacy.
Kisses.
Time shared.
SEX!

Mmmmmmmm….. sounds good, huh?
Sounds like something you want.
That you desire more of in your life.
Me too!

I sit here this morning contemplating so many things,
and I often find myself excavating past lessons so that I do not repeat them in current time and space.
As I analyze things, especially how I choose to do relationship I see how difficult I might be to have a serious one with.
And I do not believe that it is the fact that I enjoy multiple people in my life that is the difficult thing.
What is difficult for most is my integrity about it.
I share openly about my feelings.
About my past.
About my desires.
I share how I feel.

The issue is that we are taught that we should not want anything more than the relationship we have.
That the relationship we have is to complete us,
to make us happy, and to provide all our needs.
If it does not then under no conditions should you turn to someone else to get this met.
ESPECIALLY someone you may be attracted too or them to you.

I hear the statement,
” Be cautious of the situation you put yourself in.”

I hear the concern in this statement.
I hear the plea of if you hang around people you like, are attracted too then you may stray,
and straying equates to you leaving.
Because you have to make a choice.
Because there is ONLY so much love to go around.
Because you cannot have multiple relationships successfully.
Because it makes ME uncomfortable.

Okay, here is where I get a little uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable in my truth.

My truth is that I can NEVER go back to a way of living where I shut myself down from the world,
from other people,
and/or from men.
I f-cking love my male friends and lovers.
Whether current lovers of not, I may be enjoying time with them.
And when it is imposed on me that I need to not do this,
I feel shackles being put on me and on my emotions,
my heart,
my desires,
my energy.
And YES you better believe I will be making a choice.

I am poly my nature.
In all things I do.

I do love many.
I do enjoy many.
And may be likely to have intimacies in multiple ways with a few.

The one’s who capture my heart,
capture my essence for a season of our lives dancing together,
are the one’s who are confident enough in themselves and who get the difference between love and need.
Who can embrace my feminine wave of love.
These are the ones or THE ONE that will hold me a lifetime.

Now I am not speaking on sex here.
When I say intimacy,
I mean depth in revealing.
Sex can be this intimacy,
however sexing will only be as deep and intimate as we allow ourselves to be revealed in it.
Sex can just be that, sex.
It can be friction based and meaningless.

Sex does not mean love.
Sex does not mean commitment.
Sex does not mean intimacy.

Sex is a communication tool,
a physical communication tool .
And if you show up at only a surface level in your daily interactions with a lover,
then your sexing will only mimic the same.
Surface sex.
If you have depth, intimacy, surrender, authenticity in your daily interactions then your sex can go to this level as well,
or it can still be held in a place of disconnect if we are letting everything be heard in other ways but are scared to speak our truth in the bedroom.

Sex DOES NOT mean intimacy.
or love.

It can however deepen our intimacy and love.
It all depends on our level of surrender with our partner.

In the land of poly,
many believe that poly means to have multiple sexual partners. But this is not true,
poly is about something much more frightening than sex.
It is about LOVE.

Loving multiples.
And in love we can go deep with someone,
and we might open the gateway to sex.
Good sex.
Might I even say gourmet sex?
Because of the love,
because of the more authentic relating.

But poly DOES NOT equate to sex,
lot’s of sex,
or sex with many.

You can be monogamous in your sexing, 
and polyamorous in your relating and intimacy sharing.

And you can have success in this.
Just like you can have success in an open relationship with open sexing, or a swinging relationship.
Just like you can have success in a monogamous relationship.

A successful relationship is not about the sexual labels you put on it.

It is based on the confidence that each party has in themselves first, the self-love they have, and their ability to show up authentically in the realtionship. Which means authentic communication.

Year spent together does not equate a successful relationship.

Happiness does.
Unconditional love, and forward moving growth,
individually and together gives you opportunity to have this.

The most happy people on the planet are the one’s who have multiple close relationships. The healthiest people are the same.
Healthy mentally, emotionally and physically.
All requires intimacy shared.

Closing yourself off to the world is a death sentence in an essence.

Closing yourself off to the world and ONLY allowing intimacy to be shared with but ONE is putting all your eggs in one basket and putting an unrealistic expectation on the ONE. As well, as expecting that you as an individual can survive with only this one food source.

Because relationships are food.
They are emotional, mental, spiritual food.
They effect our body, mind and soul.
They impact us at a deep level.
And not having them does not mean that we are not effected.
Avoidance of relationship DOES equate avoidance of your heart and soul.
It is hiding from all the intimacy and truth that you are meant to share.

We hide out of fear of getting hurt.
We choose to not get involved,
to not catch feelings,
out of fear of getting burned.

If we do step into a relationship,
we then revamp our whole world and expect our partner to do the same, by not having relationship outside of the primary relationship. Often this simply means to pull away from anyone that there may potentially be “feelings” for.
And we do this out of fear.
Fear of loss.
Fear of being abandoned.
Fear of having too much love.
We close off because our ego’s affirm to us that it is not safe to love.

NEWSFLASH!
Love will not hurt you.
Love is not limited.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” ( 1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

So why do we fear it so?
Why do we handcuff it so?
Why do we cover it with our self-centered need?

Because we do not understand.
And we equate many a thing to be love.
We fear what we do not know.
We fear what we cannot control.
We fear that we will loose if we love,
therefore we choose to turn our backs on love,
as we embrace its doppelganger of lust and need.

Authentic loving,
is authentic relating.
Authentic intimacies,
come in many ways and are what brings joy and surrender to all relationship.

Sex is never a reason to fear loss.
Love will never create loss.

The only reasons we change seasons with a relationship is because we have either out grown the relationship or have not grown to the next level within it,
or it was based on need ( not love) and those needs are no longer being met.

Level up your love life,
by tapping into your authentic self.
Embody yourself and open to love.
This is the answer to your happily ever after.

As always,
Stop Existing & Start Living

If you are ready to make the leap then reach out to me today. I am running a Christmas special where you get 2-months of coaching for FREE. Check it out and use the SANTAGIFT code in the why you want to work with me section.

Hope & Commitment: PRICELESS

Average cost of a divorce: $15,000 to $30,000

Average child support payment for one child: $430

Average alimony support percentage of highest earning spouse: 30% of income for up to 50% of time of marriage

Saving your relationship and working through your shit: PRICELESS

Remember the old commercial?
Well I sure do.

And this topic is near and dear to me in recent times.
But more importantly,
It is a possible reality to many of my couples clients.
Or potential couples clients.

The sad truth is that quiet often people go looking for help.
They sit in my office,
Wrenching their hands together,
Butterflies in their stomach,
Wanting to be heard.
To be understood.
And to be given hope.

They look at their spouse,
And they hope that they too have a sincere desire to heal the wounds of years gone by.
They hope that their partner is feeling at ease and will be open to the possibilities of getting help.

Often, tears are shed in my office by one or both parties as they recognize the pain,
They see the situation of their marriage clearer,
And they feel the tingle of hope spreading its wings inside them.

There they sit.
HOPEFUL.

They share intimacies within this safe container,
Baring their truths of bitterness, of loss of desire, of financial pains, of feeling left behind and under appreciated.

They share their sins.
From adultery to drug usage to porn and anger.

They share their longing.
Their longing to reconnect.
To heal.
To love and be loved.

And so they walk away from me,
Feeling lighter.
Feeling connection and understanding.
Feeling non-judgment.
Feeling as if they can recover.
They feel HOPE.

And then….
It is inevitable my follow up email with all my recommendations and observations comes into their inbox.
It asks them for their,
COMMITMENT.

Many stand up to the plate.
But many steer away in fear.

They lean on objections.
From price to time.
They say they need to wait.
They say they think they can do it on their own.
They say this
And they say that.

But none of it matters.
They CHOOSE to not commit
And thus they choose to remain in their suffering and in the harsh reality that separation most likely will knock soon at their door.

But they feel like they cannot change the outcome.
Because it just is.
So they settle into victim mode.
And they loose HOPE.

How much does it cost to sacrifice your HOPE?
How much is it worth to step into COMMITMENT ?

It is priceless.
Thats what it is.
On both sides it is PRICELESS.

The only question
I ask these souls who choose to say goodbye is,
Are you happy?

At the end of any decision.
You must ask yourself.
Are you happy?

Here you will learn your truth.
Here you will learn about your fear.
Your regrets.
Your desires.
And if you made the right choice.

No one can answer this for any of us.
It is between us and soul.

And it is PRICELESS.

As always,
Stop Existing and Start Living

Now accepting 1+1 Couples Coaching Clients.
No matter where you are in this big world you can get the private coaching to recover the intimacy and connection you desire in your marriage.
Explore Passion Coaching for Couples today.

The Gift of Relationship in Life Success

Relationships break us open.
Relationships unfold us to a life that is deeper than we could ever know possible on our own.
Relationships can be freeing,
Or they can be crippling.

Relationships are our defining energy of how we penetrate our lives.
They define how we surrender to the greatness of our lives.
They define how we allow ourselves to receive and create blessings and/or suffering.

Everything we do in life,
We do through relationship.

This last year I have been in this awakening of just this that I share with you today.
I have been coming into the beautiful realization of my truth and how it has manifested and shown me all the guidance I could ever want for through my relationships with lovers, friends and family.

My realization (and perhaps you may feel some alignment too) is that I have been resisting my truth.
I have been hiding from my own uniqueness and power thus of it.

In January I lost what one might say was the love of a lifetime. My heart died that day and I have been looking for a path of resurrection for it so that I can open again to the blessings that a fierce penetrative love can bless one with.

In May I lost my second primary relationship in a shocking 2 hour event that I am sure I will never understand. This relationship taught me so much about my desires, about emotion and stability. It taught me about detachment and harshness and it showed me my weaknesses in my boundaries and lienliance around many things and I was shown just how blind one can be in a relationship as well as how we NEVER know anyone truly.

These two relationships alone have revealed to me a beauty and a reality of who I am and how I have been choosing to show up in life as well as how I am willing to receive from life or not.

I have come to a realization of my set points.
Of my programs around abundance, value, love, money and joy.
I have come into a point of awareness that each of these relationships were holding me back from my full potential.

The healing must still manifest in its own way.
But the truth is that I have been blessed without measure. I have been provided with the opportunity to create the legacy that I desire for my life.

If I tried to hold tight to the energies (the relationships) that were lower vibe than what I wanted for my life, then I would only set myself on a path of further suffering.

As a former love above says, ” A reason, a season or a lifetime.”

So true is this statement.
As every relationship offers one of these.
And we never know what it is until we reach its end.
And even then,
As past has taught me,
Some relationships serve all of the above.

And everyone of them reveals more of who we are.
Everything is a relationship.

If you are struggling then all I have to say is that there is hope. You can have it all. You really can.

I swear to you,
That if this effed up single mom of of seven from the wrong side of the tracks can find hope,
Can discover her truth,
And can manifest a life that is beyond what I believed.

Then you too can have your dreams manifest into reality.

Look at your relationships,
See their beauty no matter the pain they bestow,
And embrace who you are.
Embrace your truth.
Embrace your desire.
Embrace your power.

And as always,
Stop Existing & Start Living.

Mother F*cker Messed Up My Orgasm.

 
I sit here this morning not wanting to open up my text thread with my ex.
The negativity,
the control,
the anger that comes from it,
and that I feel inside just at reading the last words on the thread.
 
“Really?”
 
I already know the tone.
The comments and commands.
I feel disgust at this thread.
 
Late last night I saw his final words,
they hit me like lead in my gut,
Sorrow,
Distrust,
Bitterness,
Anger.
 
It is all here.
Stepping away from an enviroment,
a relationship for a few weeks or months
 

“Really”

 
does show you a person’s truth.
While in the relationship we make excuses,
get caught up in the day to day,
and simply just don’t want change.
We don’t want to have a relationship fail.
We want to make it work.
We want to be accepted, loved and connected.
Even at the cost of our well-being,
Our happiness,
Joy,
Health and freedom.
 
SO we ignore,
hide, ‘cover that shit up and act like it is not there.
 
Truth never stays hidden forever though.
A person’s true color’s ALWAYS come out.
And in my saga, the color’s are not so pretty in this relationship.
 
The truth of the reality is that I masked from myself my partners need to control and dominate. I knew he was an alpha personality walking in, and loved that about him. His strength and ability to hold boundaries was attractive. His assertiveness and masculine power was what I needed and desired. I needed the security of this. I needed the foundation of this. I also loved his calm, cool, collected stance. I loved his seemingly open mindedness and playfulness. He offered what I needed in the moment.
 
It was a season.
There was a reason.
 
Now those were gone.
Now I am left with the flip side.
The control freak, the aggressor, the one who when he does not get his way acts like a 3 year old and retracts himself, his love and says, ” I hate you.” Takes his ball and goes home.
 
Now I am left with his need to try and control me through our children. I wonder if he even notices it, if he is aware of his pattern’s, his actions or if he is just playing the role that is comfortable to him and feel’s safe.
 
Now I am left with the residue of his energy as it wafts through the text message, the facetime, the phone calls and emails.
 
Now I am left with him just ignoring anything he does not want to discuss because of the discomfort and his knowing that it will be emotional and I will speak my truth and he can do nothing to stop it.
 
Now I am left with him proving what his priorities are.
His bottom line is focused on his bank account and not on relationship.
His priority is to pretend that none of his actions had anything to do with anything.
His priority is to run and hide behind his masks, not seeing that he is turning into his worst nightmare. The people he always claimed he did not want to be like he is now mimicking them. He is now becoming the one’s that have since passed and he is honoring the patterns that they taught him as a little boy. He is now honoring a closed heart, a barren soul, a disconnected life.
 
In his desire to control, he does nothing more than share his rage and hatred. His fear.
 

But none of this is reason for him to steal my orgasm.

 
No, that is on me.
 
But I want to cast blame onto him.
I want to point the finger and say he did this to me.
 
Yes, this morning I sit here not wanting to open this thread of text messages between us because I feel all of it.
 
Last night, I did not open it in hopes to avoid it.
I wanted to avoid the negativity of his control.
I wanted to avoid looking at him on facetime with our nightly call for our kids.
I wanted to just not feel him for just one night, one day.
I wanted the freedom that flickers through my days.
I wanted to breathe.
 
But that last statement attached itself to me,
the thread just lingered and my ego ran and played with it.
 

“Really?”

He was inquiring why I had not answered I am sure,
he was frustrated that in his grand attempt to contact everyone in my home to get me to contact him had not worked,
he was upset that he could not control the situation and that I had made a stance to just say no.
 
Our children had not asked to speak to him so I felt no guilt in not speaking tonight.
 
We were busy having fun, connecting and laughing.
We were snuggling.
So why wreck a good moment.
A good memory for his desire to control?
 
Yes, this is the question of the morning.
Why allow him to steal it?
I held firm for my children.
For that moment.
But then I allowed that word, that thread to infiltrate my soul.
I allowed it to poke at me.
And I allowed it to steal the depth of orgasm that I was offered in the night hours with my lover.
 
I pushed myself to open,
I felt pain from doing this.
I shut myself in fear,
fear I would reveal to much.
I got captured by that damn text thread,
over and over again.
 
Into my head,
out of my body.
Away from my deep orgasm.
Keeping it surface.
All the while desiring what I had just tasted 24 hours before.
 

That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.

F-*-C-K!!!!!!

 
I allowed him to.
Just like I allowed him to control to much of my life in our relationship. Just like I allowed him the power to act the way he did. Just like I allowed myself to stay,
to stay in the enviroment that was not conducive to my purpose,
my heart, my life.
 
YES
 
That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.
But I made the choice to not release,
to breathe in.
To hold him and his energy
instead of leaning in to my lovers thrusts of passion,
my lovers presence,
my bliss.
 
He only messed it up because I allowed it.
And this morning, I sit here witnessing my ego, my pain, my rage, my holding.
 
Here I sit with my body breaking down.
My body screaming at me, “STOP! – Let that shit go!”
 
Here I sit, witnessing that he not only physically hurt me,
controlled me in ways that I was not aware of,
hid his truth from me,
Held anger toward me and lied to my face about it,
He not only did not love me and may have never,
but he continued to punch me in the heart.
He was willing to try and dominate my life,
the children’s life,
through textbook tactics of an abuser.
 
It is shocking to me.
It is on going.
It is healing to see things from this vantage point.
 

That mother f*cker messed up my orgasm.

And I am in gratitude for it.

 
Thank you Mother F*cker for being you and showing me my strength.
Thank you Mother F*cker for showing who you really are so that I could claim whom I am more.
Thank you Mother F*cker for the season, the reason and the blessings that we shared.
Thank you Mother F*cker for coming into my life and being EXACTLY what I needed.
 
With out you, I would not be me.
Empowered.
Guided.
Desiring more.
Certain.
 
Thank you for supporting my determination and drive.
Thank you for your disconnect to your emotions and heart, and showing what that does to a human, to a relationship, to a life and making me aware of where I meet you there and that…
 
I CHOOSE.
I choose to STOP meeting you there.
I choose instead to open up my heart.
To feel my emotions.
To forgive.
To heal.
To laugh.
To connect.
 

I choose to LIVE.

Unbound, free and on purpose.

 
Cut loose from the chains that you tried to hold me with.
Cut loose from the chains that I held myself with.
Cut loose from the fear.
 
YES
I choose.
I choose to…
 

Stop Existing & Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

My monkey’s tried to get me laid.

🙊🙉🤭😈 My monkey’s tried to get me laid. 🔥🔥🙊☺️
Only in my world of crazy does this sort of stuff happen.
Only in my world is it allowed,
Embraced and accepted.
 
In truth, It was a day of frustration, what started out to be a productive, good feeling day quickly shifted gears to frustration and overwhelm. Not only was I just in pain physically from pushing my healing body to do more than what it most likely should have, I was also pushing myself emotionally to work through boxes of old energy from my marriage of 20 years and then my next relationship of almost 7 years.
 
Sorting and cleaning a garage full of memories can have its fair share of painful moments.
 
Really dredging up the past and forcing yourself to let go.
See the truth that you once lived,
and embrace your moment now.
 
This was my Monday.
All because the universe proclaimed that my internet wire would get cut from the yard guy and I would be out of online commission until it was repaired. So, I did the next best thing….
 
Was proactive and started sorting, cleaning and putting my house together.
 
After a long and full day of multiple emotions rising to be siphoned through, I was exhausted, smelly 😱 and just wanting to rest, have a glass of wine or maybe something harder, get my munchkins down for bed and yes…
 

Yes,

I wanted a good orgasm.

 
Lucky for me I had this last part already in the works by inviting my lover over for dinner.
 
And planned on having myself and him for desert. 🔥😜🔥🔥
 
Everything was taking longer, except for what I was wanting to take a long time and that was the nakedness in my bed. But no, instead I was blessed with bedtime item’s and simmering down of little one’s taking MUCH longer than wanted, especially since I sat there, needing to pee, needing to shower, and just wanting to relax in my lovers arms.
 
Instead I was blessed with laughter coming from the other room, where my elder children, my friends and my lover enjoyed themselves and joked, connected and made light in the evening hours while I snuggled down my munchkins, smelt my stench and craved to just let go.
 
Breathing in the moment. I felt my ego on the cusp of just screaming.
 
My 21 year old daughter came and offered to help me, I shot her down, and offered her a not very well disguised guilt trip on poor mom’s mood.
 
My friend came and offered to help, I shot her down and offered another ego based comment, sharing that I had it all under control and that it was F-I-N-E.
 
I heard myself saying this bullsh*t,
I wanted the saving,
I wanted the connection,
The help.
I wanted to effing shower!
I wanted to get these babies down so I could laugh,
enjoy my evening some,
get out of my head and into my body,
and get to what I was really craving.
The orgasm between my sheets.
 
But I denied myself the opportunity to have it sooner than I could receive it.
 
I denied my family and friends the opportunity to help me,
to support me.
 
Instead I wanted to sit in my disgust just a little bit longer.
I was punishing myself,
for something I was not even conscious of.
I felt shame.
I felt rage.
I felt depression.

I felt like a total f*ck up to life.

 
I held my son on my lap as he wiggled and fought sleep,
looking at him and wondering how I could have been so stupid to let myself get caught up in yet another bad relationship with a man who claimed all this and that and in a moments notice could shut out everything, everyone and just walk away. In gratitude for the lives of my children, the reasons, the blessings from my relationship, I could smile but in my heart I felt all of this…
 
And I felt shame.
I felt guilt.
I felt lost.
 
So I punished myself in this moment.
I denied support, love, help and orgasm.
I denied God from helping me achieve my goals.
 
My monkey’s on the other hand refused to listen to my ego.
They refused to let me sink to far.
They refused to let mom crash,
my friends were on board with the plan,
my lover was of course on board…lol
 
My monkey’s decided that it was time for me to take care of me and to go after what I not just wanted but NEEDED.
 
So my daughter’s came in and told me to go shower, to get clean, that they had their little brother’s.
A friend got me drink.
My lover provided a smile and sparkling eye’s with a clear intent.
 
I showered.
I shaved. (because that is what girl’s do when they are needing and wanting certain event’s 😈)
 
Clean,
refreshed,
ready,
lighter in spirit,
I emerged.
My little one’s asleep.
Laughter filled my dinning room,
I was now part of it.
I was fully there.
Sharing,
Connecting,
De-Shaming.
 
My monkey’s tried to get me laid.🙊🙊😜😜🙏
They made a plan.
They figured out who was taking over for night time child care,
who would sleep where, so that mom would not have to worry about children. They discussed it, argued about it and laughed.
 
At the end of it,
My monkey’s tried to get me laid,
and were successful.
 
They created the space for mom to go,
Be,
Do,
Have.
 
What I wanted and NEEDED.
With No Shame.
With No Guilt.
In Truth.
In Harmony.
In Love.
 
They knew how badly I needed to just be able to drop down and connect to my lover,
to myself,
to my orgasm.
 
They supported my well being.
 
My monkey’s.
My circus.
My crazy world.
My family tribe.
 
No Shame.
Only Open, Unconditional.
Love.
 
#lovemygrownassbabies
#fuckyeslife
#shamefree
 

And as always,

Stop Existing & Start Living

Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.

Hell Hath No Fury.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

 
Or so the saying goes.
The past month of my life has forced me to step into a fury that I did not know existed to the level that it does. One event opening up the wounds to another. And that event opening up the wounds to another and another and another.
 
At first I sat with the events after they happened and was simply shocked.
Bewildered and lost.
 
Then I shut myself to the emotions that were coming up.
Then I opened.
Then I shut myself down again because under the emotions and the physical sensations of pain, fear and worry,
I discovered something much darker.
 
The darkness of a ghost that had been lingering in my midst for my life.
The darkness of a fear that I had been dancing with forever.
The darkness of my heart.
 
I found myself dancing with the feeling of being a victim and not wanting to be one, yet not being able escape the reality of what had happened and the knowing that in this moment, in this timeline, I was a
 
VICTIM.
 
I hate the word victim.
I don’t believe in being a victim.
I believe that no matter the situation that we are all spiritual volunteers here playing out our lessons in life. Expanding and evolving.
 
Evolving through pain.
Evolving through love.
Yet still evolving.
 
So to sit with the reality that I was a victim in this moment was something that hurt me to a point of rage in my emotions.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a strong mother F*cking Goddess!
I am the co-creator of my world.
I am a f*cking manifestor that creates her world with power, certainty and direction through my heart and by the guidance of God and my soul link.
 

I am not a victim damn it.

 
But yet, here I sit with the reality that in this part of my current time line,
 
Physically,
at very least I am just that ,
that I do not prescribe too.
 
A Victim.
 
And f*ck it hurts and is scary and shit to admit that yes,
I too could be feeling this fear.
Feeling this loss of the life that I new.
Feeling the uncertainty of the steps that I must take.
 
Yes, here I am, still feeling like somehow I deserved this.
I made it happen.
If I had not only done this or that.
Then surly things would not have escalated to the level that they did and I would not be physically hurt and broken.
That I would not be emotionally worn out and lost.
That my faith and trust in relationship would still be strong.
That what I believed or thought I knew as truth would still remain in tact and that my world would remain all that it had potential of being.
 
Yes certainly I must be at fault for all that has occurred.
Yes certainly I must have been the culprit of this disaster.
I was not good enough.
I was too much.
I wanted to much.
I cared to deep.
I spoke to much of my truth.
I should have coward in the face of the danger instead of standing to face it.
I should have just shut up and got in my place.
 
After all,
I am just a woman.
 
Who am I to think anything other than the reality that I am just a woman.
 
It is a man’s world.
He’s the boss.
It is his house.
His car.
His world.
His right.
 
His right to command.
To command me.
To command how things go.
To command my actions.
My thoughts.
My feelings.
My words.
 
If I had just not spoke.
If I had just not inquired.
If I had just not followed.
If I had just let it be.
If I had just been a good woman,
and did what I was told.
 
Told…
 
Yes told.
 

“You will STOP!”

 
He wanted me to stop,
he wanted me to be quiet,
he wanted me to not inquire,
follow,
speak my truth,
stand up for my child,
for myself.
He wanted me gone.
He wanted me deleted from his life.
He wanted me to STOP.
 
If I had just listened.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a mother F*cking Goddess!!!!
Goddesses are not commanded to STOP.
To not speak their hearts.
Their truth.
To break in the face of danger.
To run in the face of danger.
To feel shame about their humanness,
their love,
who they are or anything else.
 
Goddesses do not abandon their children when danger is present.
Goddesses do not fear the outcome.
They command the outcome.
The outcome is one that is ALWAYS one,
one that in the long run supports the beauty,
the love,
the truth,
the heart,
the soul, the power of God that moves through each of us.
 
He fell in love with the Goddess,
but he wanted to tame her.
He wanted to own her.
He wanted to control her.
To shut her up and be her ruler.
 
Goddesses only have one ruler.
The Great Divine.
The Almighty.
Lord.
God.
Creator of All.
That is the only ruler of a Goddess.
And we are lead by our hearts.
 
Those hearts lead us to follow when we see our lover is in pain.
When we see our child is hurt.
When we know we are not being heard, seen or felt,
Those hearts lead us to speak up not become quiet.
 
And certainly not become quiet because we are commanded too.
 

F*ck That!

 
Hell hath no fury like a Goddess scorned.
That is how the statement should go.
 
But he,
he is the lucky one.
He scorned a Goddess,
a woman who know’s who she is,
who is not afraid to speak out,
to be vulnerable,
to forgive but not forget,
 
he is the lucky one.
Because in his actions she FINALLY witnessed his truth.
 
And he may not be strong enough to see it but she is.
She see’s his pain,
his fear,
his lack of truth,
his lies not just to her,
but to himself.
 
She see’s how deeply he is hurting,
his feeling of not being worthy,
his discomfort with integrity.
 
She see’s his shame and how he hopes to shame her.
 
She see’s him.
She see’s herself.
 
Yes.
 
I am not a victim.
I am a F*cking Goddess.
 
No matter what the experience, I KNOW that God has my back.
No matter what the result I know that I am the co-creator of my reality.
No matter what the feelings, or the physical challenges that are upon me, I know that I
 
 
People come into our lives.
They serve their purpose as we do in theirs.
We often feel betrayed, hurt, scorned and victimized.
This is all part of our path.
 
Our evolution.
 
But even in evolution we get to choose,
choose our reactions,
which lead us to the next phase of our own personal reawakening.
 
We get to choose how we evolve.
Every action has a reaction.
 
We choose what those are.
We have conscious thought.
That conscious thought can trump our ego and our core beliefs if we want it to.
We can decided.
 
NOW.
In this moment,
To love fully.
To heal quickly.
To not break.
To expand.
To express.
To be vulnerable.
To be worthy.
 
To COMMAND our life to be the life that manifests our dreams.
 
I may be a victim in the essence of the physical and emotional abuse that I have experienced in the last short bit of time,
 
But I am NOT a victim to life.

 

I am a mother F*cking Goddess!!!

 
I may be scorned,
and scorned deeply from multiple sources,
 
But I am not a victim,
because I KNOW
I know I get to choose my outcome.
 
My path.
My reaction.
I know that God has my back.
 
And I surrender my heart to that.
 

What do you choose?

 

And remember,

Stop Existing & Start Living

Are you a woman that feel’s scorned? Hurt? Scared to step into her Mother F*cking Goddess Power? 
Join Kendal TODAY for a F*ck Yes Life experience. Limited time access to 1:1 coaching and online coaching programs to help you master your FREEDOM based life NOW.
 
 
 

The Unspoken Truth About a Sex-Starved Marriage

sexstarvedDo (or did) you and your spouse have significantly different levels of desire for sex? If so, you are not alone. Did you know that 1 in 3 couples has a sexual desire gap? But just because you aren’t alone, it doesn’t mean you should be complacent about a ho-hum sexual relationship. You shouldn’t. It can lead to a miserably angry spouse, infidelity and divorce. If you don’t believe me, watch this TEDx talk on The Sex-Starved Marriage

And although solutions to this sexual divide abound in magazines, self-help books and other pop psychology outlets, there is a little talked about fact underlying the problems associated with this sexual void.

The No’s have veto power.

Here’s the scoop. The spouse with lower sexual drive controls the frequency of sex — if she or he doesn’t want it, it generally doesn’t happen. This is not due to maliciousness or a desire for power and control, it’s just seems unimaginable to be sexual if one is not in the mood.

Furthermore, there is an unspoken and often unconscious expectation that the higher desire spouse must accept the no-sex verdict, not complain about it and remain monogamous. After decades of working with couples, I can attest that this is an unfair and unworkable arrangement.

This is not to say that infidelity is a viable solution to disparate sexual interests. It isn’t. As with all relationship conflicts, being willing to find middle ground is the best way to insure love’s longevity.

But what’s a so-called “low desire spouse” to do?

Believe it or not, although sometimes the causes of low sexual desire are complex and deeply rooted, this is not always true. One of the most common causes for a sexual desire gap is also the simplest to solve. I recommend that the person with low desire adopt the Nike philosophy, and “Just Do It!” Why?

I wish I had a dollar for each time someone in my practice said, “I wasn’t in the mood when I started making love but once we got into it, I really enjoyed myself. It felt great.”

After seeing lots of this in my practice, I started to look around at the literature about sexual desire and discovered that for millions of people, sexual desire doesn’t just happen, you have to make it happen. (Basson, R.) But what does this actually mean?

The human sexual response cycle is thought to have four stages:

Stage 1: Desire, which is defined as having a sexy thought or sexual fantasy that often occurs out of the blue or in response to a trigger such as seeing an attractive person, smelling a aromatic perfume, or watching a hot movie. Desire then prompts us to become sexually active.

Stage 2: Arousal is the excitement we feel, the physiological changes in our bodies once we’re physically stimulated

Stage 3: Orgasm

Stage 4: Resolution, when our bodies return to the resting state.

But for almost half the population, stages one and two are actually reversed. They don’t feel sexual desire until they’ve been physically aroused, until they’ve been touched. But once they’ve been stimulated, they feel plenty of desire. They’re hot to trot. For these folks, arousal leads to desire, not the other way around.

If this sounds like you, it behooves you to do a little experimenting. Stop waiting for the fireworks to happen before you become sexual. Be receptive to your partner’s advances even if you’re not totally in the mood. Why? Two reasons.

You might just find that once you’re into it, you’re really into it. Plus, notice the changes in your spouse. She or he will be much nicer to be around. But don’t take my word for it. Try it. At least watch this new TEDx Talk on The Sex-Starved Marriage.


Michele Weiner-Davis is the Author of the best selling Divorce Busting, Divorce Remedy, and the Sex-Starved Marriage, and creator of the Divorce Busting Center. She is the Founder of DivorceBusting “Like” her on Facebook, and get her latest videos on YouTube.

 

ORIGINAL POST @ Huffingtonpost

The Lost Art of Masculinity

masculine_divine01In the heart of the divorce boom (starting in the ‘60s, peaking in the ‘70s) a generation of women ended up parenting (mostly) solo, and a generation of boys ended up being raised (mostly) without a positive father figure, if they had one at all.

Maybe it was partially a reaction to “women’s lib” that led men to feel less-than-needed. And maybe it was the grey flannel rebellion, personified by the whining tone of the dissatisfaction of the Playboy Men of the ‘50s, that led women to feel fed up enough to stand up and say, “To hell with this!”

How far back this winding battle for self-actualization as war-of-the-sexes goes is a question that can’t be answered. But irrefutably, while entirely necessary, the attempt towards a leveling of the playing field has resulted in some serious casualties.

In the absence of a paternal figure, an inadvertent, angry, faux matriarchy emerged; one that was bound by the confines of the walls of the home, because outside of the home all the old rules still applied.

But in the home, woman ruled. Boys (and girls) grew up with women, angry women, women who were (righteously) angry at men, as the alpha and omega of their young lives. The mother became the sole ruler of the world that is childhood.

A generation of men really did fuck up. They left, fucked around, used women and dumped them. Fathers bailed, leaving an abscess as often as an absence.

And the absence of men, of good men, of real men, of responsible men, left a nasty taste not only in the mouths of overwhelmed mothers, but of boys raised in a world of righteously angry women.

This group of boys would grow into men. Men who still had a bad taste in their mouths. A bad taste about men. Which is hard to live with; especially if you’re a man.

For these reasons and more, a generation (or three) of sensitive and careful men have had to struggle to reclaim their man-parts. And the women of that same generation have had to cultivate the ability to trust men who, themselves, don’t trust men.

The struggle goes on.

As women have defined and redefined feminism, femininity, the feminine, men have seemingly struggled to keep their heads above water in the shifting tides of what it means to find equality. We’ve all had to learn that equal does not mean the same, that sharing responsibility and control means both men and women can be strong and vulnerable, and that there are things – some perhaps genetic, but most almost certainly social conditioning – that women want, and things that men need to step up to.

Vive la différence!

These desired things have come as a surprise to a generation of women who were raised with slogans like, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” batted around. But under the stratum of fear and distrust lies a substrata of desire.

A desire to be desired. A desire to be seduced. A desire to be taken care of.  A desire to be matched and met. And, most surprisingly, a desire to be stood up to, while being stood up with and stood up for.

The Lost Art of Strength

Women want strong men. I’m not talking about a man who can bench press their own weight, I’m talking about men who are not afraid to say yes, and not afraid to say no. I’m talking about men who aren’t afraid to take control of the wheel when the boat is drifting off course.

Strength comes in many forms. And the kind of strength a woman is looking for in a man is rarely, if ever, showy or flashy. That sort of display is more often insecurity masquerading as strength. Yet, most women aren’t looking for the “strong, silent type,” either.

There’s a ground between aloof and overbearing. That’s where most women want to see a man standing. Better yet, it’s where she wants to see a man walking toward her from.

Women are tired of men who are scared to be men. They’re tired of playing mommy.

When a woman says, “You decide!”, she’s most likely not trying to trick a guy. She’s requesting that he make the decision at hand. Too often men of generations X and Y (and some late boomers) would rather say, “No honey, it’s okay. You decide.” In many cases this dynamic leads to the woman feeling like she needs to take responsibility for everything, and the man feeling disempowered. So if you’re a man, next time a woman says, “No, really, you decide!” just do it.

Once a guy gets the hang of that, he may even graduate to the level of being able to take the reins without first receiving permission.

That’s the lost art of strength.

The Lost Art of Chivalry

There was a time not long ago that a man opening a door for a woman may have been met with scorn. For most of us, those days are over.

News flash; it’s safe to offer to pay the check. Offer to take her coat for her. Offer to walk her to her car – not to cash in on a kiss, but just to make sure she’s safe. The kiss may just come naturally as an expression of gratitude.

Furthermore, a man shouldn’t feel afraid to protect a woman’s honor. There’s nothing as sexy as a man speaking up to defend a girl’s reputation.

Whether it’s a stranger, a catty bitch at a party, guy friends, or The Mom who’s speaking ill of the object of a man’s desire, he should decide carefully whose side to take. You can bet that the object of admiration will notice when the chivalrous man admiringly corrects someone’s misconceptions about her personality, attributes, or intents. Not only will she notice it, she’ll remember it fondly.

This attitude should not be abandoned once a man is safely ensconced in a relationship. These proper niceties will go a long way in making a woman feel safe, taken care of, adored. And all of these things are likely to lead to a sense of more stability and more freedom of expression and actualization in any relationship.

The gallantry of a fully expressed man is without compare, and that fully expressed masculinity becomes attractive rather than threatening when a woman knows that her man would not only lay his coat over a puddle for her, or raise his voice to defend her, but that he’d put his body in front of hers to protect her.

The Lost Art of Romance

There is no study that can prove whether men or women are more romantic, but I know very few women who feel that their man is too romantic. Besides, for most of us, there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing!

A woman is likely to do a million little things a day to take care of her man. They may be things he doesn’t even notice. She’ll offer subtle romantic gestures like reaching out for his hand when walking side by side. Touching his neck while he drives. Stroking his arm gently while engaged in conversation.

It’s just plain courtesy for a man to offer his lover the same. When he pays attention to her, she notices. If he strokes her, she’s likely to purr.

But it’s the larger gestures that make most women melt; a candle-lit bath drawn for her without request. A massage without the expectation of return. A gift offered for no particular reason. A public display of affection. A surprise romantic celebration of a day that’s special to her.

Needless to say, some of these may be scary to try to pull off. But everyone, male and female alike, wants to be treated like the most important thing on earth every once in a while.

We all want to be someone’s everything. More over, we all want the one who is everything to us to show us that we are everything to them.

Reclaiming Masculinity

There’s more and more being written about the divine masculine and the divine feminine. There’s been plenty written about the wounded woman. There’s little to nothing being written about the wounded man.

It’s time for men to claim their wounds, and in claiming them, start healing themselves into wholeness.  I’m not your mama, but as a friend let me entreat you to take this advice seriously.

Many women are realizing that they want to be with men who are proud to be men. So guys, stand up, hold your head high, own those man-parts, and walk forward into the equal-but-different future of a world beyond the sex and gender wars.

ORIGINAL POST on the Elephant Journal

ABOUT the Author: Lasara is wife to her true love, and mother to two amazing young women. She’s also a best-selling author, an educator, and an activist. Lasara’s first book, the bestselling Sexy Witch (nonfiction, Llewellyn Worldwide), was published in 2005 under the name LaSara FireFox. As of 3/6/2012, after a coaching sabbatical, Lasara has openings for three three-week, individual, personally tailored coaching and mentoring programs. She also has slots in a cohort-model group coaching program available for a limited amount of time. Lasara is available for one-session commitments as well. Make whatever commitment feels best for you. Lasara offers individual coaching on topics such as; * Mental and Physical Health and Wellness – accepting your diagnosis (or that of a loved one) – learning to live with awareness of strengths and vulnerabilities – Learning to live gracefully within your spectrum of the possible * Mindful Relationships – self as primary partner – loving partnerships, friendships and connections – marriages – parenting – family * Spiritual Contemplation and Alignment – Entering into and committing to your spiritual inquiry – Learning to listen to listen for and hear the divine in your life – Inquiring into the role that faith may play in informing your path – The role of meditation, contemplation, and prayer in your practice For more information and endorsements, visit: http://lasaraallen.com/about-lasara/coaching-services/

The last word: He said he was leaving. She ignored him.

When Laura Munson’s husband asked for a divorce, she ducked instead of fighting. He needed to learn, she says, that his unhappiness wasn’t really about her.

couplehandholding

Let’s say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You’re still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s—gazing into each other’s eyes in candlelit city bistros, when you were single and skinny—have for the most part come true.

Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You’re the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You’ve done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.

Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: “I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. I’m moving out. The kids will understand. They’ll want me to be happy.”

But wait. This isn’t the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It’s a story about hearing your husband say, “I don’t love you anymore” and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.

Here’s a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn’t hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn’t happening. She doesn’t “reward” the tantrum. She simply doesn’t take the tantrum personally because, after all, it’s not about her.

Let me be clear: I’m not saying my husband was throwing a child’s tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else—a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I’d responded to my children’s tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, “I don’t buy it.” Because I didn’t.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he’d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. “I don’t like what you’ve become.”

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That’s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn’t.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: “I don’t buy it.”

You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “the End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn’t yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn’t been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He’d been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn’t buying it.

I said: “It’s not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents’ happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who’ll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?” he said.

“Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you’ve always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you’re talking about.”

Then I repeated my line, “What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?”

“How can we have a responsible distance?”

“I don’t want distance,” he said. “I want to move out.”

My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.

Instead, I went to my desk, Googled “responsible separation,” and came up with a list. It included things like: Who’s allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who’s allowed keys to what?

I looked through the list and passed it on to him.

His response: “Keys? We don’t even have keys to our house.”

I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re going to make me go into therapy. You’re not going to let me move out. You’re going to use the kids against me.”

“I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need … ”

“Stop saying that!”

Well, he didn’t move out.

Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual 6 o’clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July—the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks—to go to someone else’s party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He didn’t even wish me “Happy Birthday.”

But I didn’t play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: “Daddy’s having a hard time, as adults often do. But we’re a family, no matter what.” I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.

My trusted friends were irate on my behalf. “How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!”

I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn’t mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.

I know what you’re thinking: I’m a pushover. I’m weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I’m probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I’m not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.

I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband’s problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn’t happen.

Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.

I had good days and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say, “Don’t take it personally” when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that’s exactly what you have to do.

Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying, or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not—it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.

And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we’ve created. You can bet I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.

And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn’t mow his lawn if he’s going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.

It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, “I’m thankful for my family.”

He was back.

And I saw what had been missing: pride. He’d lost pride in himself. Maybe that’s what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we’re not as young and golden anymore.

When life’s knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: It’s not a spouse, or land, or a job, or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.

My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We’ve since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out and think they can escape.

My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.

But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked.

This essay originally appeared in The New York Times. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

This post comes from Theweek.com August 13, 2009