All of me

 

My ex-lover sent me a concerned email when I posted about a “sex class” I went to recently.  My children don’t follow my blog, and they probably never will – but I had been using my real name on Medium, and the ex-lover had a point: “Any of your sons’ boneheaded friends could google your name and this story will pop up.”  He went on to say that I was the “hot mom” among their peers, and that my boys most certainly hated knowing that.  Concerns veiled in compliments, but I felt controlled.

I replied: “Good tip, changing my name on Medium now.”  And I gave myself a new pen name.  Problem solved.

But an anger was stewing, and my mouth wanted to breathe fire.

This energy will not be denied.

I’m claiming my freedom in this space, and a large part of that is connected to my sexuality.  I know this is nothing to be ashamed of.  The type of erotic play I am into is extremely vanilla compared to a lot of the things I read about, but even if it wasn’t — no shame!  I am finding that by exploring the sexual experiences and fantasies of other writers and by slowly sharing my own, I am tapping into incredibly rich creative energy.   I am humbled by these brave and sexy writers who are stirring the pot of erotic energy for those of us who are turned on by the written word.  I am relishing in my own desires without needing a physical partner to fulfill my needs.  And I am learning so much!

I feel protective of my freedom of expression, and unwilling to yield to a status quo version of sex, love or partnership.

And although my ex-lover means well, I also know he wants another chance at “us” – he wants to try some things I have revealed in my writing, things he didn’t know I wanted because I didn’t tell him and he didn’t ask.

His next email to me was titled “Sex” and was basically him coming to terms with his own beastly desires.  Would I wear a collar for him?

Again, I wanted to breathe fire.

Not because I don’t like collars.  I actually don’t know.  But because I am feeling raided….

I’m not here to defend my right to be.

I’m not here to train you to be my perfect lover.

I’m just uncovering the truth of my being.

Things that were dormant are being revealed.  Old wounds have healed enough that now they can be spoken of.  I am learning to be alive in my body.  I am waking up.

It makes some uncomfortable, or sad.

It might turn you on.

It might make you wonder.

And as for the ex-lover,

he doesn’t get to put a collar on me,

not even in my writing.

But the advice has been received,

and thank you for your concern.

*

Side note:

I will always love my ex-lover, he is a beautiful being!

Ending poem:

The heart is in critical condition.

I didn’t tell you,

but I’m breaking all the time.

Little bits of me are falling off – can you see?  That’s my veil cracking.

And if you want to explore this mess with me,

i won’t stop you.

*

 

 

 

 

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