Tag Archives: sexuality

a few observations

When you’re the one in the family who isn’t a serious hoarder, you always end up hosting your hoarding family for the holidays.

It’s important to teach your children how to manage their thoughts, to become their own best friend, and to cultivate a positive outlook. Especially a kid who veers toward anxiety. The earlier you can offer coping tools, the longer s/he has to develop those life skills while in your care.

It doesn’t matter how much you care for someone if you constantly feel stressed out in a relationship with him. You have to care enough for yourself to mind your own feelings.

Children should receive comprehensive, positive sex education that gives them the tools to speak their needs. More than being told to “just say no” to sex or drugs, they need practice developing the skills of how to say no, yes, faster, slower or a little to the left. I’m grateful my school has a solid curriculum and instructor(s), and I’m even more grateful to know that I’m surrounded by a community of parents who will take those conversations to the next level with their children.

It’s terrifying to raise a daughter in a world where an enormous population of girls’ genitals are still mutilated in the name of purity, where school dress codes are designed to make sure girls are not a distraction to boys, where colleges have no clue how to handle rape allegations, where lawmakers seem hellbent on standing between the reproductive decisions women should be making only with their doctors and loved ones, where slut shaming remains a rampant reminder of just how alive and well our gender-based double standards are, and where women are so frequently harassed or flamed for making feminist statements online. I have to regularly take deep breaths and ground myself just to stay sane, much less try to make sense of this crazy world for her.

Side note:  Jennifer Lawrence is right. The criminals who stole private images from her and other celebrities’  cloud accounts should be prosecuted for the sexual violations they’ve committed, just as they would be prosecuted if they’d been caught having stolen your banking information.

I’ve been seeing an acupuncturist. The resulting bruises on my body might suggest I’m the victim of a physical or sexual assault. On the other hand, cursing aloud at my practitioner does not seem to faze him. Therefore, I’m not sure whether to report him to some sort of authority or ask him if he’s single.

I can’t imagine dating someone with the perspective that birth control is a female’s responsibility, especially after children. If a man has sired as many children as he intends to sire, I firmly believe he should be willing to commit to that decision and have a vasectomy. Not everyone has to agree with me on this; likewise, not everyone has to date me.

Finally, when a young person comes to you and confides that she is bi-sexual and you say, “all right,” you have to wonder if you’ve under-reacted or dismissed the enormity of this thing she is telling you, while you simultaneously wonder about whether a young person should so readily embrace what might be a label, particularly given the fluidity along a spectrum that seems inherent among females. But the important part of responding was this:  “Regardless of whoever you choose, the important thing is to learn to build healthy, communicative, loving and supportive relationships.”

And OMG Bill Cosby!

All of these are things I’ve been thinking about in my long absence — and probably some are topics on which I’ll write more. But for now, let’s hold this space…this space in which some of these issues are just so big and overwhelming and controversial that they are difficult to wrap my head around. And let’s acknowledge that some are pithy or playful and, I hope, gave you a bit of a laugh.


living a double life

Most days, I am a mother, a corporate professional, a leader and an example. And then, every other weekend, while my children are away, I find more and more ways to express the sensual / sexual dimensions of my being.

The oldest of my children now has a “boyfriend,” is on the cusp of tweendom (experiencing the effects of hormones), and has begun to comprehend the suggestive humor and innuendo in certain media that flies over her younger sibling’s head. The media and other stimuli around us continually offers opportunities to frankly and candidly discuss sex and sexuality as a part of life and, particularly, as a dimension of health and wellbeing.

Meanwhile, I am honest about dating and wanting, eventually, to find a life partner.

Still, as open as I am, I feel as though I’m living a sort of double-life:  the matronly, pure-as-the-driven-snow mother figure and the slut. To wit, in the past several weeks and months, I’ve had several opportunities to consider the many aspects of that pleasure-seeking self that I’m most able to express only around 48-hours out of every two weeks:

  • When the woman who comes over to wax my brows last visited, I had her give me the French bikini treatment, as well. As we joked and laughed about grooming, tattoos and more, she mentioned that she’s done a lot of stenciling…hearts and stars and things. That got me thinking what sort of symbol I might want to stencil, if such a thing were to interest me…a peace symbol? No. “Welcome.” If only there were enough space / hair, I would create a welcome mat!
  • As I wrote previously, I was at a sex toy party not long ago, contemplating the kinds of gadgets that would not only enhance sessions with my lover and augment his collection, but also allow me to play and explore on my own. We learned that there are as many nerve endings in the anus as there are in the tip of the penis…(in case that gets your thoughts rolling, as it did mine). Recently, we had an opportunity to incorporate some of these new toys into our adventures…with mind-blowing results.
  • For entertainment, I seem to find myself drawn to titillating theater, cinematic or otherwise, such as the fairytale classic re-interpreted as a modern dance performance set in a bordello. Some such performances are merely fluffy and titillating, others are darker and more murky, such as the movie Shame. I find myself intrigued by the entire spectrum.
  • I’m still taking pole dancing classes, learning more off-the-pole sexy moves. Whether I’m ever brave enough to show any of them off remains to be proven!

I suppose what I mean to express is that, having been there, done that (in terms of marriage, family, divorce), I no longer feel the need for pretense:  unlike some of my younger, pre-marriage girlfriends, I’ve no need to play the role of “good girl.” (I’m not certain they really need to behave as if they’re “good girls,” either, but that’s another discussion.) I feel freer than ever to be the multi-dimensional woman — and human, both masculine and feminine — that I am.

And the more I explore pleasure on my weekends “off,” the more I feel a protective reaction — checking and re-checking to ensure I’ve packed all the toys away, for example, as it relates to allowing my children to mature at their own pace. Sometimes I catch myself sending a flirty text while in the vicinity of my children, and feel compelled to check from the corner of my eyes whether they’re seeing what I’m typing or picking up on the expression on my face.

My lover’s youngest is in high school. With his toy collection visible to anyone who opens his nightstand, he assumes his children have run across it. He has also had occasion to tell them that he has plans for the night and “don’t wait up.” Still, he feels this same duality between his regular role as parent / professional and sexual being.

We all compartmentalize; we all have boundaries between our personal, professional and parenting lives. Yet I wonder:  Will these selves, kept separate by necessity, ultimately merge into a whole, robust, multi-dimensional being? Sometimes I wonder, and I look forward to such a time when the expression of my whole self seems more fluid.

Meanwhile, I go about living this double life.


pole dancing

Clearly, I am little more than a forty-something cliché. My hormones have me thinking of nothing but sex at the oddest times…no, all the time. And, now, in addition to all those stereotypical, 40-year-old divorcee, cougar-ish things one might say about me, I’ve finally sealed the deal:  I signed up for pole dancing classes.

Don’t blame me; it was a Groupon! And my girlfriend wanted to go, too! This is for fitness, people!

Here are some observations:

  • No, this is not — as one of my male friends suggested — hot. There is nothing about this forty-something woman with an average, curvaceous figure and absolutely no skills awkwardly flailing around a pole that could be even remotely appealing to anyone. Unfortunately, I do not ever envision getting good enough at this for it to be described as “hot!” Still, I did ask, in jest, whether placement services were offered.
  • My body is killing me after class; it must be doing some good. I have an entirely newfound respect for this profession…who knew how hard these women work to do what they do?! My body aches for days after each lesson!
  • Weekday classes are definitely more “core” (read trashy). I learned a few cool moves, but the girls in the mid-week classes were definitely working to earn their keep. These were not the urban girls with professional day jobs in my weekend classes.

I’ve since shared these new endeavors with a few close friends (i.e. everyone within talking range) and I’ve learned a few things:  Apparently this is even more mainstream than I thought. One woman I met mentioned it had been featured on 60 Minutes. While I don’t have that link for you, I did find this clip from CBS News.

No, I don’t look like that. Not yet, anyway.