There is nothing more sexy than making love
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There is nothing more sexy than making love
I used to think I was pretty sexy, not so much in the way I felt about myself inside, but in the way I presented to others. I was observant and saw and felt the effect I had on other people and I knew how to create the desired effect… but I have come to learn that there is nothing more sexy than making love… starting with yourself.
I started feeling sexual from a very young age – 11, to be precise – once my hormones started to rise and fall and my periods started to flow. I was brought up quite strictly in a small country town and rarely let out, but when I was I let loose, drinking heavily, smoking and fooling around with whomever took my fancy, and as a consequence was not let out again for quite a while. Each time I was I made the most of it, and despite my parents’ intentions and best efforts, I had quite a few adventures with some lovely young men.
I endured this straitened period of my life in the knowing that I would eventually leave school and move to the city to go to university and when I did, I more than made up for lost time.
I lived in a residential college, partied hard, and slept with several men, many of whom were my friends and acquaintances. It was not all roses though… I lost my virginity through rape. I had been out drinking at our local pub and one of the older students took me back to his room and had his way with me, despite my protestations… this instilled a sense of fear and shame and distrust in me, that I attempted to override by drinking… a lot.
My first serious boyfriend
I met my first serious boyfriend in that same college and we stayed together for a few years, through drinking and jealousy and fights and making up… I fell pregnant to him and had to pay for my own abortion as his father was a strict Catholic and he was too afraid to ask him for help.
This was a terrible time in my life… I felt guilty about getting pregnant, guilty about having an abortion; I felt like a murderer and I could only go through with it on the understanding that I had to sacrifice one life or I would be sacrificing three. Even though we loved each other, our relationship never really recovered from this and eventually our differences were irreconcilable.
After this I stayed on the pill and never went off it till many years later, determined not to have to go through that experience again.
My work threw me into close and intimate proximity with many men and I slept with several of them. It may sound like I was quite ‘blokey’ or some kind of ‘scarlet woman’ but I was not… I was a genuine and friendly person and I genuinely liked these people and I genuinely liked having sex and was happy to put the two together from time to time. To be honest, I preferred the company of men in general… they were more honest and upfront and straightforward with me and I tended to have mainly male friends, although there were a very few women I loved and trusted.
I was usually drunk when I was with them – because I usually was drunk when I was not working – and apart from our work camaraderie there was no real intimacy, openness or honesty. I did not ‘date’ people and get to know them first… I went out, got drunk and slept with anyone who took my fancy at the time, be they a complete stranger or a dear friend. I did not value myself at all highly either, and would literally give myself away to anyone who asked. I was also a chameleon and could be whatever I thought was needed, and whomever I thought people wanted me to be. I could fit in with anyone, anywhere, and had a very diverse group of friends and relationships as a result, but sometimes felt the emptiness of wondering if people knew who I really was, and indeed, whether I knew that myself.
Settling down and sobering up
Eventually I settled down with one lovely and very patient man and despite the relative stability of our relationship, my drinking got to the point where I was in extremis and ended up in rehab. I had been with him for two-and-a-half years by then and I remember someone saying, while I was in that first week of recovery, that we have to give our partners as much time in sobriety as they had to endure of our drinking… so I stayed, which in the early days was probably even more excruciating for him than living with me drunk… and almost to the day, two-and-a-half-years later, I left him. He could tolerate nearly everything I did, but when I asked him to join some crazy spiritual group I had found he said no, and that was it.
I then had a series of interesting and diverse relationships with men, some of whom I lived with, some of which were loving, and others which were dysfunctional and abusive… and the most interesting thing was that if you lined all these men up you would never guess that the one thing they had in common was being my partner, so different were they from each other (and from me), and yet sooner or later I always ended up living with my father, in terms of the dynamics that played out in our relationships… I would recreate my unresolved problems with my own father and these men would fit the mould, at least in my eyes.
When I brought home my now husband, my mother liked him. She had never liked any of my previous partners… in fact, she could barely disguise her dislike and contempt for them. And my father liked him too. I nearly left him there and then, but I loved him too much and so together we stayed… through some very difficult times… in fact, the only thing that held us together at times was love.
Meeting Serge Benhayon
Just before I met my husband, I met Serge Benhayon. I was drinking again by the time I met Serge, and in trouble with it. I was drinking heavily, every day, and it was deeply affecting my relationships with my husband and children, and no doubt the rest of my life as well. I was not fully present with people when I was drinking, and I was irritable when I was sober. My husband did not ask me to stop drinking, but he did say he could not stay with me if I did not, so I was in a quandary, for I wanted to keep drinking and to stay with him. I presented my problem to Serge and as usual he stated the blindingly obvious in simple terms, saying that if I was considering leaving the man I said was the love of my life so that I could keep drinking then perhaps I had a problem.
Serge offered me a marker of truth in my body: through Sacred Esoteric Healing he removed the imposts of that which I had taken on in life – the ideals and beliefs of how I should and should not be, the hurts from when I was little that I had recreated over and over in life with other people – and allowed me to feel myself, free, clear and pure, the essence of who I am.
It was very difficult for me to hold this feeling in my life but slowly slowly I developed some love and care for myself and started to treat myself in a more loving way. I started to care for myself more physically – eating well, letting go of alcohol and coffee, going to bed earlier and exercising regularly – and also to just care for myself, learning to love and respect myself as a person, no matter what I did or did not do, or what I had or had not done in the past. As I did this, my relationship with my husband started to change.
It started as a very sexual relationship but we also loved to talk about life and share our deeper feelings, and over time, this intimacy, honesty and transparency has deepened and grown.
There is an old story that if you put a penny in a jar every time you have sex in the first year of your relationship, and then you take a penny out every time you have sex thereafter, you will never empty the jar and that may be true for us too, but I would not exchange all that sex for the deep intimacy, openness, vulnerability and love that we share today; for today we do indeed make love.
We are not perfect by any means, but we do understand that making love is not just reserved for the bedroom, for making love is a state of being with each other in every moment of every day. If we had a jar of moments of making love in that first year, they would be few and far between, but now, that jar is filling up fast…
We know so deeply that we love each other, that when we do not feel that love, we ask ourselves what is in the way and take steps to clear it so we can feel and be that love again.
If I am not myself, I find my husband intensely irritating, which may not sound like a fun relationship to you, but to me it is a marriage made in heaven, as I have to be myself to be with him! In many ways his reflection is a great blessing for me, for if I am feeling irritated by him, that is a sign that I am not my usual open and loving self. I have learnt when I start to feel that way to stop whatever I am doing and make coming back to myself a priority. That may be as simple as just stopping whatever I am doing and realising that I am a bit off, or, if I am really out, sometimes I need to breathe gently or go for a walk… to come out of my head and back into my body, where my love for my husband lives.
We are getting older and have lots of children and grandchildren now, so I won’t make you (or them!) feel uncomfortable with any details, but we do make love with each other in a way that is deeper and more glorious as the days and years go by…
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Intimacy, Love, Relationships, Sex, Making love
