Wednesday 30 October 2013

How to Make Love to Your Wife

For those of you who think that this post is a hands on manual for inept husbands, think again and read on.
I am here to dispute the old adage that a man’s sex life dies when he says “I do”.

For years, I have listened to tall tales of how the “poor husband doesn’t get any” since the doomed wedding vows. Married men have recounted their dilemma over and over, pleading with single men to rethink walking down the aisle and not share in their plight. This is a misconstrued belief because the women I talk to tell me their libido is very much in an active state and not dormant or extinct like their partners believe.

Herein lies the problem.

Women don't want seven minutes of mediocre sex or the standard missionary position or men who rush to the goods and forget about foreplay.

They want passion.

If someone would have told me that my sex life would begin to whither away after the wedding vows I wouldn’t have believed them. I thought that having someone in your life permanently would ensure an active and predictable sex life. After all, married couples didn’t have to search for potential partners; theirs was available twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

I guess I should have been forewarned on the honeymoon.

My wedding day was supposed to be the culmination of all the time and effort put into dating my husband. The wedding night was supposed to be passionate and intense after the promise of a lifetime to each other. Sure we had to make some changes to the ceremony due to inclement weather but the gist of the day was the same. And yes, I was desperately ill after the ceremony but surely, at some point during the honeymoon, was one night of passion too much to ask for?

Apparently so.

And thus began the slow death of what was supposed to be my happily ever after.

Monday 28 October 2013

Pivotal Moments

My a-ha moment came when I kicked my ex-husband out.

I have been going through a series of seminars that are geared toward helping me grow in my professional life and the one question that was put forth was “What are the pivotal moments in your life that helped define who you are?”

Easy, peasy…the day I realized that I would be okay if I left him.

So I did. 

Why was I waiting for him to decide if he loved me enough to stay? I took the power out of his hands and put it into mine.

This moment, this single instant in time, gave me the strength I have used to carry me through the past few years.  It was empowering and enlightening.  I knew I would be okay and could do anything I put my mind to.  

And I am okay.

That was the day I decided not to be miserable anymore.  

The day I took control back of my life.  

The day I grew.  

The day I said…I DECIDE.

Friday 25 October 2013

Who Am I?

I am sitting on a stool with my pants pulled down, just past my hips, as an artist named Max tattoos three characters on my lower back.

Three simple reminders of who I am.

You see somewhere along the path of my life, I lost sight of who I was, what dreams I had and what I had wanted to become.  Losing my voice and my way, I became what others wanted to see in front of them.

Stripped away of my confidence, my belief and my raison d'ĂȘtre, I became a black and white shadow in my own life.  A secondary character who would be missed in a crowd of two.  Looking around at the very beige surroundings I had created for myself, I knew I had to inject some colour back into my life.  Bright, vivid, techno colour.  The stuff rainbows were made up of. Beige was not who I was and definitely not what I wanted to be remembered as.

First stop was that tattoo parlour.

And I did it.  

Branding myself, forever,  in an indelible ink, to always remind me of who I am. 

Woman.  Mother.  Daughter.

The three things that would never change. 

This was how I began my journey of figuring out who I am.

Of falling for me.