I am ADD.
It’s taken me about a half a century to really realize this fully, but there it is.
The first time I heard about this “disorder” was when my brother’s child was diagnosed with it nearly 30 years ago. All the pieces began to fall into place about why my brother, and my father, both very bright men, had always struggled with interpersonal relationships, academics, and “traditional learning.” Both could be lots of fun at a party– as long as they were the life of the party and the center of attention (and adequately drunk or drugged). Both men could watch any process and repeat it, master it, and possibly add on a new innovation. But hand them a book or an instructional manual, and the shades went down for them. There was an obdurate attitude about them, which could be terribly frustrating at times, causing them to plant their feet and refuse to budge. I never truly saw this for what it was: fear of not being able to succeed at something, therefore just refusing to try. Uber-hard on themselves and those around them.
In pre-school, a well-meaning teacher awkwardly suggested my son was ADHD. I was indignant. He was a super bright kid, willing to please, and not really hyper-active. I chalked it up to him just being so much further ahead than his peers academically that he was bored; they couldn’t keep him challenged. He went on through school as a GT and AP student, learned things quickly and seemingly without effort, and as time went on, he was big time into that “effortless” learning style. When the stakes increased, when more work and study time was necessary, he shut down or just “forgot” to hand in major assignments. If it didn’t come automatically, he didn’t want to go there. He read voraciously, loved to engage in solitary and creative activities such as building, so I felt that he had the appropriate amount of focus and attention for his age. He blew standardized test out of the water and received many recognitions; he never kept his GPA as high as he was capable, which was always frustrating to us. He is now pursuing a degree that bespeaks “scary smart” and conversations with him on his area of expertise quickly lose us. He plans to get a PhD. Still scary smart.
One of our girls screamed ADHD from birth. She was struggling in school, with friendships, and with discipline and extreme anger outbursts. By 3rd grade we had her evaluated, accommodated, and on meds. Her sister, my “fly under the radar” ADD-er followed suit, with different, more subtle manifestations of ADD. They were both motivated and harder workers, and once focused, did fabulously in academics, leadership, and extracurriculars. They took on challenges and risks, but always feared being “found out” for being not smart or deficient in some way. Both currently maintain 4.0 averages at major universities.
A year into college, our son frankly admitted he felt he was ADD… there were certain aspects of study focus he couldn’t control. He too was evaluated and began meds on an as-needed basis to get through the longer study requirements.
Meanwhile I was in a profession where I saw countless students exhibiting signs of attention deficit. I watched how it affected their motivations and personalities. It helped me to be a good advocate for my own kids, and also to gently help parents consider the struggles their child might be facing. I saw the push-back and denial from many parents. I understood it. But I also understood that without a tool to harness the incredible intelligence and creativity that most ADHD kids exhibit, there were going to be many problems in school and with self-esteem. A big one is the feeling that you are stupid and a failure. In some cases this led to anger, and even bullying, to get the advantage over others before they could “get” you.
I once read an expert opinion that hypothesized that most Americans by their “DNA” and history were probably ADD– who leaves their home to go exploring to new and unknown horizons? Who has the daring to do that? Who tends to not be happy with the status quo? Explorers, pilgrims, early settlers, pioneers, scientists, researchers, inventors. Nonconformists. Those willing to take chances, with a fearless spirit, a hunger for new and exciting and unknown. Most of our ancestors where these people.
I knew the finger was constantly pointed back at me. But I was the Mom, the Wife, the Professional, and I didn’t have time for a “disorder.” Some with this disorder spent a lot of time in the criminal justice system or as wanderers. As with many from my generation, we struggled and we survived, we came up with compensation tools, and we found ways to overcome and succeed (and to cleverly hide our disability). We found careers that fit our ADD-ness. Yet it makes one guarded. Ultra-sensitive to criticism or even gentle suggestions. Guarded. Paranoid about being found out or “labeled.” Defensive. Driven to be perfect, never to be called out for having ANY human flaw.
Determined to prove we were smart, that no one had to tell us anything.
Full of our (fake) selves.
Take this full circle now to a new marital lifestyle of Dominance and submission. Submission is hard for me because I have to humble myself, let down my guard, and willingly admit someone else might have a better idea, or GASP! I could be wrong about something. Or even weak and imperfect. At times it is wonderfully freeing to let Sir Knight lead and make the decisions. My level of trust is building that a) he will lead well; and b) he’s not going to put me down or disrespect me. SK has developed a cautious style with addressing any of my shortcomings or faults. He knows the high level of sensitivity for me, the fear of being “wrong.” He is very diplomatic in pointing things out, and I know he lets a lot slide. He verbally builds me up and tells me how smart I am, words that I need to hear (and heard so rarely growing up with a bully parent). He has gotten his head around my need for “discipline” and Dominance through BDSM; that his spanks do something profound for me, to reset me and recenter me. That I respond more easily to his leadership with he is masterful and firm with me. He puts up with shit load of crap from me… and my constant struggles to find full submission.
It’s scary sometimes. So, so scary.
The other morning, he went out on a limb, on a small thing. “DD, can I please just ask you to do one thing? Can you please clean out the sink when you put things there? You’ve asked me to rinse out the sponge and dishcloth each time, which I’m trying to do… but could you not leave dirty dishes?” I’ve gotten in the bad habit of sometimes letting things soak in the sink, with the intention to return and wash up. And then, well, I get distracted.
“Oh no, are there ants?” I panic.
“No, but can you please not leave dishes?”
I feel the churning inside me at being called out, for “failing,” for falling short, for expecting one standard from him and a lesser one from myself. I feel the defensiveness within me climbing. I have my ADD excuses at the ready. I feel a retaliatory retort, a counter-blame on my lips… you don’t wipe the counters right… you don’t hang up the towel when you’re done…
I take a calming breath. He didn’t say I was stupid, a failure, or bad. He just asked me, made a request of me, very nicely, to do better at something.
Who the fuck do I think I am that I can’t do better at something? That I don’t mess up?
“Yes sir. I’m sorry,” is what comes out of my mouth.
Miracles happen. Perhaps small, but small builds into big.
This Thing We Do, D/s, is healing me.
I can do this.
- Ask Sir Knight for a specific time he wants me to meet him in the bedroom.
- Remind him how much I love him in control.
- After my shower, parade through the living room in my laciest bra and panties so he notices.
- Me kneeling submissively on the bed in my lacy bra and panties at the appointed time.
- SK pushing me to all fours and giving me a very stingy and lengthy spanking with his hand.
- SK pulling the panties up over my cheeks to get more stingy spanks in.
- SK asking me if I’ve been a brat, if I’ve been bad… and me admitting it.
- Me thanking Sir for his spanks.
- My butt hot and red
- SK possibly getting something out of spanking me?
- SK taking my undies off.
- Lots of deep probing kisses and caresses.
- Me being at an angle to see us doing all this in the bureau mirror and loving this sexy image of us.
- SK grabbing a fist full of my hair and pushing my face roughly towards him to use my mouth (sigh, oh yes)
- SK throwing me on my back, ripping my legs apart and diving down on me with his delightful tongue.
- SK straddling my chest to get boob-fucked.
- SK pulling me to my knees, attentively lubing us both up, and taking me from behind. Hard. Oh yes, and another handful of hair.
- SK shifting to his back and arranging me in reverse cowgirl.
- Several other tries at new positions that were quite nice and hot, a couple clumsy and silly.
- SK pushing me down to my back and banging me roughly in missionary for the grand finale.
- Another several Os from the Mini for me…
- Both of us passing out in exhaustion.
This definitely cured what was ailing me.
Being thoroughly and properly “used” by my man.
(And P.S., tried to bring up the issues mentioned in the last post… he once again thinks I’m making too big a deal over it all, thinking too much; but it at least led to some talk about what works and what doesn’t work for each of us).
One thing that has become a little confusing for me in the “D/s-Married” lifestyle is the new way in which we relate. We are still settling into this new existence, even after 3 years. We haven’t completely outlined all the “rules” or expectations, and I guess it’s about time we discuss this. Sometimes that’s hard when what we’ve known as constants tend to be moving targets.
Added to our equation is that we are experiencing the typical age-related issues that can impact on intimate time. We are not always “ready” at a moment’s notice. And in God’s infinitely perfect plan, he had a solution for this– libido tends to wane a little. Thank God we have more time and more privacy now to take our time working through this.
Now, when I say libido, I’m talking more about that animal chemistry between two people which makes you just want to throw the other down and have your way. We spend most of our lives suppressing it because face it, we just don’t get many opportunities to answer the call of our libido in the day-to-day of our work, family, responsibilities and exhausted lifestyles. But when it starts to go away, you don’t always recognize it. For many couples it plays out in stopping all bedroom fun because it seems “inconvenient” now, and possibly not as spontaneous, fun or fulfilling. Maybe it takes some work. And I think that in some cases despite the contrary, each starts feeling rejected.
Ick. I don’t want to be there! It takes some real concentrated effort to avoid that pitfall. And currently we’re not doing so well in that effort.
Lower libido does not suggest lower desire for my man and vice versa. I desire Sir Knight always. I just can’t count on my body being cooperative. He can’t count on his body being cooperative. It takes a little planning and a little finesse, and an attempt to bring down the stress levels and the sexpectations. Do I want wild, crazy, kinky sex? Hell ya! Do I want soft, sweet vanilla sex? Absolutely. Can my body catch up to my fertile imagination? Not always. In addition to not having all the necessary equipment in perfect working order–lubed, and piston ready to fire– there are other body issues that sometimes just don’t quite yell, “I’m sexy.” Intestinal issues are one that plague me, even though I try to follow a good diet. Sometimes I think it’s this great, fiber-rich diet that plagues me, and makes me a little afraid that some unpleasant emission is a possibility when I lose all control and bear down in a monster climax. That possibility can totally shut me down.
For his part, SK needs to plan a little ahead of time to take a very expensive helper, so spontaneous isn’t always an option. His peak time of approximately 5am-6am isn’t remotely in sync with mine. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely way to wake up, but I will not be sentient enough to get to my orgasm in most cases at this early hour. It’s satisfying that I can help him reach his!
One thing that this dynamic of being a submissive wife has led me to believe, along with our current age-related limitations, is that my Dom is the one who needs to lead on intimacy. The suggestions and initiations need to be from him. I do not want to pressure him at the wrong times. I want to be available to him when he has desires and needs. Although I usually express my desire for him in various subtle (and not-so-subtle) ways, I do not “demand” sex from him on my schedule. I’ve learned that for men experiencing ED, this can be a real ego issue. Once upon a time in their youthful years of raging testosterone, even the mention of a woman’s body parts could get an erection going– and going and going and going! He was super stud! Never a hesitation about performance. Bring it on, honey! But with the normal aging process, and ED, it’s a downright embarrassment and blow to his ego that he does not have this same super-stud response when a woman comes on to him. And, it’s not only age that is a game changer. There are many meds and health conditions, even body image, that also play into ED or lower sex drive. For us ladies it can feel like rejection, or lack of desire. Often our men will feign disinterest to cover up their wounded pride. I’ve learned better now, and I know what’s going on for him. So my goal has been to make intimacy as stress-free and pressure-free as possible. On his schedule, when he can feel in control. Occasionally, I’ll mention how much I want him… and he can set a time to meet my needs.
Any feeling of rejection hurts, even if it wasn’t intentional. Getting your head around it as we grow older is difficult. Since D/s, one thing I “vowed” was that I’d never, ever turn down his request for intimacy. He’d never have an opportunity to be rejected by me, except for the rare and obvious cases of incapacitation due to injury or illness. It’s been a good thing for us. I will admit there have been a few times I joined him in the bedroom (or was woken in the early morning) with less enthusiasm than I should have, but within minutes I’m fully there for him, for us… and afterwards so very glad I made this vow. I NEVER regret a single joining or intimate moment with him, even if it was “only” for his pleasure. It is MY PLEASURE that he finds his pleasure in me. I’m so grateful for his leading in this area.
The least sexy thing I think I can say is, “Honey, I’m gassy.” So what do I default to? Just as the guy embarrassed with ED, I’m mortified by my body’s betrayal and lack of “sexiness.” So, I sort of ignore his advances. I get REALLY busy in other stuff. And in a sense, I reject him.
I did it yesterday. All day he was angling for an assignation in the bedroom. Normally he gives me a time. He was very unspecific yesterday. Most of his suggestions for doing things together– time at the pool, a walk… I declined. I was feeling very un-sexy, very intestinally challenged, very bloated and fat. I didn’t want to put a bathing suit on, so I used the excuse that I’d just washed my hair and didn’t want pool time or a sweaty walk. I stuck to my computer all day, as I’d been having a muse moment (for the past 48 hours) to complete a manuscript. Before I knew it, he was asking me when I thought dinner would be. I looked down at the computer clock and saw 6:18pm. I reluctantly got up and started to prepare a meal. And then somehow I ended up back at the computer, he in the other room with his book, and at 9:30 pm he came in and told me he was tired and going to read in bed.
Gulp. I have rejected him. Unintentionally intentionally.
No, I never told him “no.” Because he never outright asked the question or gave the “command” to meet him at a specific time. I had dodged all of his insinuations, his teases, his gropes throughout the day. His very CLEAR insinuations.
I guiltily asked… “Oh, did you take…” I don’t utter the drug-name-that-must-not-be-mentioned. But it’s an expensive thing to waste…
“Uh, yea… but it’s OK. It’ll last. Maybe in the morning?”
“You’re too tired now?” I gratuitously offer.
“Yea, I am. But morning? Maybe?”
I realize that the “maybe” is my maybe, not his.
“Uh, yea, ok,” I hear the less than enthusiastic response drop from my lips. Shit. I should’ve said, “I can’t wait!” or “Absolutely!” or anything more positive.
As I lay in the bed this morning, I waited. And waited. He’s usually out of the bed 2 hours before I even open my eyes, and then he comes back to join me as I’m rousing into a conscious state.
I waited some more.
I get up, and hear him on a phone call. So I make my coffee. Yes, sometimes I might feel slightly annoyed that he’ll interrupt “coffee time.” But today he doesn’t bother.
And I’m REALLY sad.
He starts to get ready for the gym. He says something about maybe noon today? Again, just a polite suggestion, not an impassioned command.
I agree. Like, just agree. No real enthusiasm in my voice. Yes, I’m feeling a little rejected.
And so is he.
Five minutes later, not even thinking about what I’m doing, I mention to him I might do lunch with a friend today, could we delay our time for later this afternoon? (after all, we’re going out of town for 10 days, and otherwise I won’t get to see my friend until after that).
After a tick of disappointment in his face, he recovers and says, “sure.”
“I mean, I don’t have to… she might not even be available… but do you have something on the calendar this afternoon?”
“Nope.” And he leaves.
And here I am writing.
So it’s time to reset our communications. I think I really need for him to be ultra-specific and more dominant about stating his desire and expectation. I really need and want this. I am sure he’s defaulting to “gentleman” mode and not wanting to “force” me.
And I am sure that I need to seem more interested and willing and appreciative and not licking my wounds. What I NEED to do is let him talk and tell me.
But this is not working for us.
Super Sexy Time.
“SK’s Choice-Fantasy Night.”
Hmmm. What do we do with this? Hadn’t really fully thought it through when I wrote that stick, but possibly I was thinking Sir Knight would come up with the fantasy.
SK isn’t great at fantasies. He’s getting much better, but role play and kinky fiction aren’t his fortes.
I raced into the bedroom knowing I was a little bit late for the assigned time. The clock by the bed glared out :02. He was already laying on the bed, shirt off but pants on. From the corner of my eye I could see several things laid out on the bed– leather paddle, silk scarf, fur gloves… hmmmm. Mostly soft play, his favorite.
His favorite… for him.
Don’t get me wrong, I love all of his touches– the tickles, the skims, the soft; the harsh, biting, stinging. But, I am definitely more of a hard impact gal. The flogger, the paddle, the crop,
the hairbrush, his hand… banged into tomorrow.
Angling for some mercy on my lateness, I seductively crawled up onto the bed between his legs. He looks at me warily.
“What does sir want to do?” I asked coyly, as I nuzzle into his chest and plant kisses up to his collar and neck. I haven’t even had time to pull my long blond hair up as he prefers, so it’s a cloud of soft, freshly washed tresses adding to the tickles, and Victoria’s Secret-esque tussled tresses falling in my face as my innocent eyes peer up to him.
Ha! Tactic deployed and launched. He’s already forgotten my tardiness.
“A body rub,” he finally says. I blink a little.
“Oh–you, or me?” I ask.
“Me,” he says.
Oh. Let me shift gears here a little. “SK’s Choice-Fantasy Night” is to be about him.
I can do that.
“What does sir prefer?” I ask.
And yes, I love for him to pull my clothes off, but something tells me he doesn’t want any hard labor today. I stand for a moment and slide my sundress over my head, revealing naked breasts and his favorite blue panties.
“Whoa…” he hisses with admiration.
I slide out of my panties, and re-position myself between his thighs.
“Now what sir…”
“Hmmm, fur glove, soft… uhm… blindfold?”
Maybe, maybe, he wants me to be in control? Wow. This is a switch. And, well, I’m not a great switch… But I AM good at fantasy and fiction and making up stuff as I go.
I put the blindfold in place. He seems to be liking this already.
I try to get my Dominatrix on… well, the soft one.
We have a lovely long soft silk scarf that is nice for sensory play. It feels great trailed against your skin. I discover it also makes a great cock mummy. I wind it around and around, and then slowly pull it off. Oh yea, full attention, he’s liking this. I teasingly trail it across his torso, his thighs, his legs, his feet, and then make my cock-mummy again, on an even more alert cock.
I switch to the fur glove, and his body gets a full tease with it from head to foot.
I knead his feet (I LOVE a good foot massage), and then scratch his insteps with my nails. The way he shifts I think he likes this too.
Sir Knight has been diligently hitting the weights, in addition to his runs and swims. He’s upping his weight daily. And it’s showing. My 60 year old stud has a great, firm bod. Killer thighs and pecs and arms… a flat belly. [Back off, girls!] It’s quite nice to openly admire it as I’m teasing his body with his favorite soft touches, avoiding his cock and then lavishing it with attention.
I’m teasing him the way I love to be teased.
An idea hits me, and I “order” him to stay still a moment as I run naked into our kitchen. We do not have many window coverings at our house. Hopefully the lawn guys or the meter reader aren’t lurking nearby. I scamper back with a cup of ice.
I take a cube in my mouth, and trail the ice over his nipples, down his midsection, into his belly button. I move it down around his testicles and he shifts slightly. Then up and down his cock, around the sensitive ridge. I suddenly plunge my warm mouth down his shaft for a drastic change in sensation. His hips arch up appreciatively. I then put the dwindling chip of ice in my mouth and give him a hot-and-cold BJ.
Periscope UP! He’s harder, bigger, than I’ve seen in a long time.
The silky scarf becomes re-purposed as I clumsily tie his hands above his head, my breasts lightly slapping his face. He initially seems a little surprised at this move, but goes with it.
He’s come to enjoy my teeny but lethal purple vibe, so I treat him to a little of that as well, up and down his shaft with a little extra tease around his ridge and head. I want to keep the element of surprise going… but geez, that magnificent hard-on at full mast is just calling to me, VERY LOUDLY!
I get the lube and give him a tortuously slow and slick hand job. He’s edging, I can tell. I back off a moment, then the vibe, then my hand again.
And I can’t hold out any longer.
I carefully move atop him, trying very hard not to touch him or give a hint of what I’m about to do, planting my feet on either side of him in a low squat (thank you, yoga!).
I slowly lower myself onto him.
He lets out an appreciative groan.
I pull up and out. He pulls his hands out of my weak bonds, and grabs for me.
I lower again slowly and he groans again. I do a few deep thrusts, then stand up (whew, the knees and quads are getting a workout here)!
I repeat this move several times… each time as I feel him edging, I pull up and out again. He’s frantic. SK is used to getting off within 1 minute of entry… I know he fears losing his stiffy, speaks of easily getting numb, and this is what drives his quicker releases. I want him to last longer…
But in no uncertain terms he pulls me back and wants me on his cock, as he thrusts his hips upwards.
Oh geez, does that feel good.
But, oh geez, my legs aren’t going to hold out much longer in this squat…
I eventually, apologetically fall to my back between his legs…
He wastes no time tearing off the blindfold, mounting me, and ramming into me like he means it, until he groans and finally gets to let go of his load.
After a tick of pressing me down into the mattress, he announces he now wants a back rub. I willingly oblige despsite the nagging ache between my thighs. Things were just getting going for me…
I don’t have to wait long before he flips back over and pushes me to my back.
Oh, but Mistress DD now gets to “dominate” the rest of this fantasy.
SK begins with the mini-vibe. I’ve come to realize that finding and activating my G-spot is my new favorite sport. I’d always hesitated to ask him for penetrative toy time (even though we have several such toys) because I don’t want him thinking it’s a substitute for him. I LOVE him inside me, the connection, the bonding and the feeling is great. But I also know that the staying power to bring me to my super-charged O hasn’t been physically possible. I need both the internal and external stim for a shoot-you-to-the moon O.
And he’s already had his O.
Time for a big one for Mistress DD. A little demo is in order.
I place the pathetic little washcloth under my butt. I turn on the G-spot toy, and ask him to insert it. He does, but then wants to play with the mini around my clit. I press the toy inside me to my front wall and whoa… there she is. Sweet little G-spot.
THE BEST FEELING IN THE UNIVERSE.
Mistress DD asks Sir Knight to take over G-spot duty, instructing him how to press it on precisely the right spot. I take over Mini and within a minute…
Thar’ she blows!
SK pulls back quickly.
I guess he’s a little afraid of this yet.
When I pull myself off the ceiling of this monster O and cease my shaking, I reassure him.
“It’s not urine… neither the taste nor the smell…”
He nods dubiously.
But I’m not deterred.
I go for several more teeth gnashing, orbit spinning, levitating, G-spot-squirty Os.
I’d like SK to observe what happens to my body when it comes unwound this way…
When I’ve re-enterd earth’s atmosphere, and can breath again, I peer at him.
“Are you OK? Are you freaked out? I understand this probably seems weird for you…”
“Stop thinking for me,” he growls. I can still tell his halfway between ‘Wow, look at her get off, this is awesome,” and “OK, I am a little freaked out by this… a woman squirting… ejaculating… a shejaculation…”
Methinks the Knight has found the holy grail of his fair maiden…
The paddle somehow got employed on my bottom at some point in this “fantasy night” but I’m not sure when, where, and how.
But meet Mistress DD. Lots of fun for a switch…
And lots of ideas for new Date Jar sticks!!
As I was reading over at Kayla’s blog (A Sexual Being- http://kaylalords.com/) a link at the bottom of her page caught my eye: Upon clicking on it, I was led to the EHarmony site, a place I’ve never frequented because when I was single there were no internet dating sites! I found this a very interesting article. As it did not allow for reblogging, I want to makes sure to give it clear attribution. This is not my work. The article was written by Guest Contributor Dannah Gresh, Author of Get Lost: Your Guide To Finding True Love, and can be also found here: http://www.eharmony.com/dating-advice/about-you/how-spirituality-impacts-a-womans-sex-life/#.Vcz0b_lViko
[Personally speaking, I had a lot of nodding my head moments as I read through her piece. And, please understand, this is from a woman who had many, many years of single sex under her belt, who had strayed seriously from her belief system, and who to this day does not profess to know all the answers about sex outside of marriage. I know what my teachings tell me, but I’m here to tell you I didn’t burn in hell for my sexual dalliances before marriage. I did however, in retrospect, learn a lot about how my liaisons affected me going forward, and in my marriage. The “body image” issue really resonated for me. Oh, and I loved “YADA”].
Many religiously active women have great sex, debunking the myth that they’re rigid. (I like to call that the revenge of the Church ladies!)
A study conducted by the University of Chicago, and considered to be one of the most statistically accurate studies on sexuality available today, determined that some of the most sexually satisfied women in the United States are conservative middle-aged, married Protestant women, with 32 percent claiming that they climax with orgasm every time they have sex. Mainline Protestants and Catholics were just behind them at 27 percent, but those with no religious affiliation claimed to have orgasms just 22 percent of the time.
According to the study, those having the most sex were not singles, but those in monogamous marriages (and they liked it more than the singles). In fact, having sex outside of the commitment of marriage can lessen the beauty of the sexual experience for some women. (And I do mean beauty!) One Penn State University study of students who experienced their first sexual encounter in college found that women tended to report a significant decline in body image after sex.
This alarmed me. It’s counterintuitive to what I know of the purpose of a cocktail of chemicals that wash across a woman’s brain when she has sex. They should make her feel totally hot!
I wanted to compare this study with one on religiously active, middle-aged, married women, but deeply as I dug the research geek in me just couldn’t find one. So, I sent a completely brazen private survey to women I personally know to be deeply spiritual. I was asking one hundred of my girlfriends to get real with me!
The majority admitted that they’d had strong negative feelings about their bodies before marriage. Yet nearly 70 percent of them felt “highly positive” about their body directly after sex, with the majority also reporting an increased level of confidence continuing into the next day. I’ll get real with you: no matter how many extra pounds I’m carrying or whether a zit the size of a planet might be plaguing me, I feel completely confident about my body after sex with my husband!
A spiritually satisfied woman in a committed marriage just might be among the most sexually satisfied. Maybe the ancient Jews were on to something when they used the word “yada” to describe the act of sex. The word means “to know, to be known, to be deeply respected.” Bypassing any reference to their bodies, the word transcended the physical and spoke of the emotional and perhaps spiritual connection occurring. Ironically, they also used the word “yada” to describe the deep knowing they had with God. The ancient Hebrews saw a strong connection between sex and spirituality.
Of course, I want to avoid generalizations. Some spiritual women struggle deeply with their sex lives but fifteen years of research has led me to believe that sex and spirituality are more connected than our culture wants to admit. I believe this so strongly that I recently delivered acontroversial TED Talk proposing greater tolerance for virginity.
What I’d rather see a woman work on during her dating years is her spiritual formation. That’s why I took a break from writing books on sex to simply write one about how women can get lost in God’s love. I believe that a woman who is lost in God’s love is the one most capable of enjoying a love relationship here on earth. In fact, it’s even quite possible that all those orgasmic church-going woman are sexually satisfied simply because…well, they’re satisfied in life. They’re already full and not looking for another person to complete them. God does that for them.
Dannah Gresh is the author of Get Lost: Your Guide To Finding True Love. In it, she traces the Hebrew language of love to answer some of today’s most practical questions about relationships with an emphasis on a love relationship with God. She recently delivered a TEDx Talk that’s available on youtube.com and is entitled “The Walk of Shame vs. The Walk of Fame.”
A new twist on an oldie but goodie.
Recently I heard what I considered a great, thoughtful process by which to assess the quality of the special someone in your life. This definitely pertains to dating, but can be applied to almost any relationship.
Insert your beau’s/Dom’s/Husband’s name into the blanks. Is it true?
____________is patient, ___________is kind. ___________does not envy, ___________does not boast, ____________is not proud. _______________does not dishonor others, _____________is not self-seeking, ______________ is not easily angered, _____________keeps no record of wrongs. ____________does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ______________always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
______________ never fails (me).
However, take this exercise a bit further. Don’t just add on “with me.” Because chances are, if your guy IS impatient with others, unkind with others, easily angered with others… it’s just a matter of time before he’s all of these things with you (and be honest with yourself… if he acts this way to others, don’t you see shades of it with you at times?).
And please don’t think that you’re the one to change him.
Don’t compromise like that. Command better for yourself.
No, no one is perfect. We have our moments when we are impatient, unkind, envious, boasting, proud (in the negative sense of thinking you’re better than most). We probably at some point in our lives may have dishonored, only thought of ourselves, and maybe, just maybe, took private glee in something awful. Yup. We all fall short.
However, is your other half predominantly these things? Is he characterized by these good traits?
That last bit however, for me, is the non-negotiable:
If the guy you are with does not protect, trust, hope, and persevere; if he fails you– ask yourself if you are truly with the right person.
Dominance/submission; Kink; BDSM; Master/slave; Daddy/babygirl: those are all just flavors or shades of a basic, healthy relationship of mutual respect. Dynamics that enrich our bonds, but which often develop and grow further along in a relationship. Being a “Dom” doesn’t exempt one from these traits. Being submissive does not preclude your right to such treatment. If you are in a unique “lifestyle” arrangement, you have either verbal or written agreements and limits in your consensual relationship. Don’t let him spank you, tie you, whip you, scene with you without the foundations.
Now. Part two. Stick your own name in those blanks.
(Bonus points for anyone who tells me the original word in that passage! Also, how did your SO rate?)