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Intimacy ~ It’s not what you think

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What is the first thing that came to mind when you read the title of this post? For me, it’s sex. The truth is, intimacy is so much more than that.

After conversing with people from all walks of life, it’s incredibly clear that there is a real disconnect when it comes to intimacy, sex and being vulnerable.

This is something worthy of discussion. And not just once or twice. Ongoing. Admittedly it’s a tricky subject. I don’t want to make any career altering statements and at the same time I want you to understand that it’s not about where you’ve been as much as where you are.

Women, I don’t know what you’ve grown up hearing about sex, but here is what I know to be true…
It doesn’t have to be dirty.
It’s possible to relinquish everything that has happened and start fresh.
Nothing feels as good as redemption.
When you give yourself permission to stop sorting through the wreckage, you discover a new kind of freedom.

Men, don’t treat us like a whore. We don’t want to feel replaceable and when we look amazing, TELL US.

I cannot say everything I want to say. Nor explain in detail where my heart is on this because, quite honestly, it wouldn’t be pertinent to everyone and there are things in my relationship with my man that are just ours. Sacred things that allow us to look across a crowded room at each other, confident that we are fully known.

Love in it’s purest form. Transparency without limitations. Trust beyond comfort. The unalloyed definition of relationship. A safe haven. A source of life and freedom. Being pursued and overtaken by someone who wants every part of you, and you them. Heart, mind, body, past and present. That is intimacy.

If you are in a committed relationship and you are not able to do this, something is missing. I didn’t say, “Something is wrong.” I said, “Something is missing.” Marriage is your golden ticket to “get your freak on.” Not in a crazy sadistic sort of way, but in a fun, exploratory sort of way.

If you don’t believe me, If you are someone who can’t even be naked in your own presence without shame and embarrassment, I would encourage you to start with the following…
Stop making small talk or expecting a long conversation before being physical. When you are at a level of true intimacy, it’s possible and at times more beneficial to communicate without using words.
Be comfortable in your skin. It’s okay to be naked with the lights on.
DO NOT, under any circumstance, discuss perceived flaws of your physique.
Learn about your body. We are complex creatures. It doesn’t go down the way it’s depicted in movies. It’s better!

Now, go send your hunka burnin’ love a suggestive text message… even if you’re right next to them. It may be their go-to while sitting in that budget meeting tomorrow at work.

read to be read at yeahwrite.meRelated Posts:
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Flannel vs. Lace

What I learned from the bumblebee

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“Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn’t be able to fly,but the bumble bee doesn’t know it
so it goes on flying anyway.”

Do you know what you are?

Quote

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“Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe,
a moment that will never be again.
And what do we teach our children?
We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France.

When will we also teach them what they are?

We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique.

In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven.

You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel.

And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel?
You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.”

~Pablo Picasso

Anyone…anyone

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I was talking with a beautiful friend the other day about ghosts from the past. I have a few, as does she. Some of hers are just louder than mine.

She had been in conversation with a family member just hours before who had used the term “damaged goods” when referring to her. As she spoke the words through tears, I felt rage welling up in my spirit and showing itself all over my face.

Seeing the color of my cheeks change she added, “Joy, it really isn’t a big deal.”

“That is where you are wrong, darlin’. It is a very big deal. You are far from damaged.”

She cut my response short, “No, I kind of am. I would say it’s an accurate description.”

At this point in the conversation I had a couple of options. I could begin ranting about what a ridiculous self-assessment this girl was making or I could speak the truth in love. Please keep in mind that it infuriates me when someone allows another human being, mortal, flesh and blood, to strip them of their identity in Christ. What shakes me to my core is when that individual doing the stripping is a mother or other guardian who has been entrusted with shaping the life of someone else.

Thankfully I chose the latter of the two options.

“Here’s the deal, sugar. We all have things that can be categorized under the label ‘damaged.’ No one is worse than another. They are equal. Yours may look different from mine, but in God’s eyes, they are the same.” As these words were coming out of my mouth, I thought, “Do I believe this? Does my path of destruction look the same as what ‘church goin’, conservative clothes wearin’, orphan savin’, never kissed a boy, doesn’t sin unless by absolute accident, savin’ herself for marriage, non tattooed/pierced/scarred‘ girl’s destruction? Do I truly believe that? Hmmmm…I don’t think I do. Well, maybe I do. I hope I do. Sometimes…on a Tuesday…when the sky is blue…and cloudless…and all the planets are in line, I do.”

I had to come clean. “You know, it’s a difficult concept to fathom. At times I have trouble grasping it myself. But I know it’s true, because Jesus said it and He doesn’t lie.” We both agreed that neither of us could refute Jesus’ words.

As we left each others company that afternoon the wheels were turning in my mind. God is always on time, yes? This morning, Rodney Anderson spoke at Buckhead church. He took a passage from Luke 18 and explained it in such a comprehensive and applicable way.

He was talking about this very thing! Comparing and thinking better of oneself and praying as if God takes out His list to make sure we are worthy of being listened to. It doesn’t happen that way. It’s an awesome message that you can watch by clicking here.

He wrapped everything up with John 19:30 when Jesus said, “It is finished.” There is no longer a need for another human being, a middle man (if you will) to do our bidding for us. Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice and the comparing, accusing, condemning, rejecting was over. Now, whenever God looks at you and at me, He sees us through the eyes of His son, Jesus, who was and is the ultimate sacrifice for my “destruction.” And as Rodney explained so perfectly today, “That’s good news.”

Be encouraged. No matter the size of devastation along the trail you have blazed, Jesus is enough. He paid it all. Your ransom, my ransom has been PAID IN FULL.

Need a visual reminder? Click here

Do those come in elastic waist?

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Here she is, the legend, the one that daisy dukes were named for. Daisy herself. How did she get those on I wonder?

I don’t often reminisce about my short shorts days, but today I allowed myself a stroll down memory lane when a beautiful blond with no more than 6 inches of denim covering her booty walked past our table at lunch.

My first thought was, “I wonder how it feels to, not only be able to fit in a pair of shorts found in the toddler section, but still have range of motion while doing so?”

Was I jealous? I think maybe I was…a little…for a second. Don’t get me wrong, I stand by my mantra, “Love the body you’re in.” I love my body. It serves me well. I just wish sometimes that there wasn’t so much of it.

This got me thinking, “Do other women feel this way when a cute little booty adorned in stretched denim passes by?” Are there women who don’t even notice? How is that possible?

Okay, if we are being painfully honest here I will say that the next thought through my mind was, “Why did that skinny little be-otch have to walk passed me on a day like today when I reluctantly stuffed myself into shorts that I haven’t worn in… oh… 3 years, just to show me what I don’t look like? The one time I put my pride aside and my less than tan legs on display I’m sharing a room with the inspiration for the song, “I’m sexy and I know it.” I wanted to cover myself with the vinyl tablecloth. Pathetic, I know.

I wish I could tell you that the next thing that came to mind was Psalm 139 and thoughts of how beautiful I am to my Creator and to my man who treats me like a goddess. It wasn’t. The next thing to surface was justification. “Well, Marilyn Monroe was a size 16 and she was smokin’.” “I rock my curves!” “I’ve had 3 children. T h r e e!” “Thin isn’t the biggest deal and neither is a tan! I want to be healthy and white! After all, vampires are the latest craze and they are paler than I am.” “Yeah. That’s right. I’m hot.”

Now enjoy the part where my rationalization comes crumbling down around me.
~ By today’s sizes it is believed that Marilyn would have been a 6/8. (There goes that theory)
~ I have grown accustomed to and even fond of my curves. However, a muffin top or shelf butt are not technically the curves that one likes to “rock.”
~ True, I have had 3 kiddos and with each one worked out less afterwards. It’s difficult to maintain the excuse that it’s baby weight when my baby is 4!
~ Thin is just as big a deal as it has been for as long as I can remember. Everything looks better tan, especially fat and while being healthy is important, thin is more times than not, healthier than pudge.
~ Just for the record, most days I do feel hot. I mean, it’s been over 100 degrees here for the last month!

Seriously, I’m not lacking in self-esteem and for someone who struggled for so many years with self-loathing behavior, I’d say that’s a pretty huge statement. I just wish that I could tell you that having a healthy marriage, beautiful children, everything I have ever dreamed of in this life, would keep me from looking at “little miss tight buns” and being envious. But alas, I can not. I would be lying.

It’s interesting what topics have come up in the last week for me. Words like “enough.” When it comes to size, attitude and fiestiness, I’m more than enough. When it comes to viewing myself as the Beloved through the eyes of my Master, I could use some work.

So today, right now, here in this moment, Daisy can keep her dukes and Marilyn her 24″ waist. I’m good. Now, what’s for dinner?!

To download a PDF version of the Psalm click on one of the links below
Psalm 139
Psalm 139 text version

* Media was taken from google

Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside

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“Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive.“
Sir Walter Scott (Marmion, 1808)

Other interpretations of this week’s challenge can be found here

Five Minute Friday: Enough

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It’s #FiveMinuteFriday free write time! Where a flash mob of folks spend five minutes all writing on the same topic and then share ‘em over here.

GO:

When I saw the prompt for this week I couldn’t help but smile. This is something I have been thinking of daily for the last several weeks. So much so that when certain thoughts creep into my mind I ask myself, “What exactly is enough?” “When will it ever be…enough?”

I have always been challenged when it comes to balance. I am excessive. If I like it, I want more. There are times when this way of thinking has me defeated before ever beginning. And it is a daily struggle.

When I walk into my closet and see the rows of shoes, each in their separate clear container, My immediate thought is, “excess.” Ew. That isn’t a positive word. Many things in my life associated with that word aren’t good. Excess weight, excess waste, excess worry…and many more. How do I combat that?

My goal over the next 7 days is to train my mind to say, “It’s enough.” “I am enough.”

I wrote a post several months ago claiming my word for the year. Enough. However, a year is too big for me. It’s excessive. I give up before starting. I must live in this 24 hours given this moment given. This moment is enough.

So enough excuses. Starting now, it’s time to re-train my brain, in small doses of course…as things arise. To do more than that at one time deems me useless.

“It is not enough to be busy. So are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?”
Henry David Thoreau

STOP