Yesterday I wrote about my “subjective morality”. The essence of the thought was that at my age, it is OK to do something that I would not want my daughter to do at 18. Additionally, while I have spoken about encouraging my son to live with his GF, rather than marrying her too soon in an attempt to prevent divorce, while some might say that my feelings are inconsistent, I rather disagree. I believe that I am consistent with my inconsistency. What does that mean? It means that I am justifying. I am providing prose to justify my own feelings. Yesterday, I applied my subjective morality to myself.
As a single woman of a certain age ( Please note that I am attempting to not call myself divorced today), I do not feel comfortable sleeping with two men at the same time.
Then along comes Toni Braxton’s gynecologist suggesting a new “use it or lose it perspective. Hmmm. We must use our vaginas. OMG, she said it, and I just said it again.
Divorce is, for many women, a time of upheaval. It is the time to juggle money and learn about finances. It can be a time to reinvest in our educations, or in my case, my health. It should be a time of re-evaluation of self. What role did I play in the divorce? What can I learn to do differently, or to possibly never do again?
It might even be a time to indulge and try new things and explore new philosophies.
And, apparently, it can and maybe should be a time of sexual exploration. We can play the wronged woman. I have done that; and I am very good at it. I prefer, as BFF said to me a long time ago, to say, and believe that you are only accountable for your own behavior. I was treated poorly, and I have taken stock of myself, and looked for ways to improve myself. But I am in way responsible for someone else’s behavior. The word “wronged” implies some sort of weakness. I am not weak. If I wasn’t as strong as I am, I would have broken a long time ago.
Carrying the label of being “wronged” is a super buzz kill. Perspective is super important here. I was treated poorly by a couple of _______ men. ( Insert insulting adjective of choice:)
a. stupid b. unkind c. fucked-up d. a-hole e. all of the above.
I have thought a lot about sexual exploration. I love Sex… always have. I vividly remember my first time. He had no idea it was my first time. I covered the pain because I did not want him to know. Riders on the Storm by the Doors played in the background, and he, a few years older than me, had mastered slow, deliberate sex. He was no jack rabbit. ( For those of you who read regularly, you know to whom I refer). He was a master of romance, and to this day, I am reasonably sure if I met him later in life, we would have married. The sound of that song, and even a gentle rain storm in general, still give me the chills.
I have written a lot about my poor relationships. I have shared a lot of pain with you. But today, I say something different. The best relationships that I have ever had, are the ones where sex was a major sharing part of the relationship. Wake up sex, make up sex… the switch that flips on when you think about the possibility of them coming home. The very possibility that the problems that we encounter in life can be shelved for just a brief time, where you can reinvest some touch and emotions in another person.
So, Kudos to the above mentioned DR. Sex is a beautiful part of life. Enjoy it, and maybe let’s not think in terms of subjective morality, or even morality at all. No judgements. I am pretty sure that I have earned the right to seek some warmth and happiness. I have no one to answer to but Virginia. So, self, today, I admit to the fact, that I greatly miss being in a warm, sexual relationship. Honesty to myself and accountability… I just keep adding to my list of action words and phrases.
Good Work Virginia… I am proud of me.