And so, who am I?
I have found a freedom in being sexless. Out in public-no make up on, glasses instead of contacts, hair neat but not really becoming, clothes as basic and ignorable as possible.
Perhaps then, then if I am not a sexual being, a woman with desire and needs and the ability to excite and fulfill-perhaps then when I interact with any other human being they will see just me, the inner me, the me that is not known and has not been known for such a long time.
Praying in the shower this morning I suddenly wondered-does anyone pray for me? I dont think so, perhaps occasionally or in an unfocused and obligatory way (I myself am guilty of such self satisfying behavior at times). But does anyone really pray for me. Does anyone really care about me?
The questions almost cause a shudder. My children care, yes of course they do. But children are all about giving to them and not receiving from them. Although, I will say, I praise God that I often learn much from my children. Even then, though, it is God who is doing the giving and not they.
Let me say also they are very loving, very affectionate and bless me more than I ever could have imagined.
But my needs cannot be met by them and it would be so wrong to try to make it so.
To be correct and thorough I have to say that God knows and loves me. But there is not a human soul that does.
I try to keep the loneliness at bay. Ill call it that though I find the word not quite adequate.
But, I am familiar with it and know the foolishness I have acted out fueled by it.
So this morning, in the shower, when I wondered if anyone prayed for me I decided to pray for myself. I pray daily for myself in terms of being the mother that God desires me to be, doing a good job at work, asking for my needs to be met and that I submit my will to the Fathers this in addition to prayers for others.
But, I wanted to be prayed for tenderly, lovingly, the way I pray for my children.
So I used my childhood nickname and pictured myself at about nine years old. I prayed for this little girl who was precious and still had dreams and and she had no idea, could never even fathom that there would be a time in her life when no one loved her, cared for her, prayed for her. That she would be so utterly alone.
I asked God to keep her safe, to let her know how precious and loved she was, and to give her hope-to help her hold on to her dreams.
How is it that I am so different now, at 38, then I was as a child? Of course we age, mature, gain experience and such. But what about the essence of who we are?
Im almost invisible now. I can float in and out of public interaction with out even causing the dust to change its direction while floating in the air. There is a freedom to it. Sad but true.
I risk no chance what so ever of catching the appreciative glance of a man. I am also uninteresting to females as a potential friend. After all-what could I possibly have to offer?
Id like to think-no I desperately hope that if someone knew me, really knew me they would find me interesting, attractive, enjoyable to be with-that my company would be desired.
But how would anyone know that if they dont get to know me. And, what really do I offer to a companion. I have no hobbies. I read. I love to read because I enjoy it and because it is a wonderful way to escape.
I watch movies-same reasoning. I have a great sense of humor and often make others laugh. Well, others who I am actually around-my family, my co-workers.
Myself. I actually do laugh out loud at my own humor. Would this be listed in the beginning stages of insanity?
I enjoy music, it moves me. To hear a violin often brings tears to my eyes. I constantly have music, songs, going on in the back of my mind from the moment I awaken until I fall asleep. Perhaps even while I sleep.
At times I am not sure of the link to the songs that are playing in my head. Most of the time my mind has simply done a search for a relevant theme song to what ever I am doing or thinking at the time.
Never gonna get it is one that I play often-ha ha! I love my humor.
Have I wandered? Happens often. I usually try my best to avoid thinking. I mean, all the usual tasks of the day take such little thought really. I am only challenged when I have a parenting situation that is outside of bathing, feeding, the usual.
And I try to use my mind while praying so it is with thought, sincere, honest.
Other than that why would I want to think? Discontent. Didnt God say we should learn to be content in all things I have to work on that one then.
What was that little girl like? She was so sweet, so innocent, so sure of love. So sure. What am I sure of? Not much. I am sure of God. Sure that I must keep going and living and doing what needs to be done.
What were her dreams? This is uncomfortable territory-I can feel my emotions beginning to stir and must decide if I will continue. Ah, but I find I must. Because I currently have a sad, sweet smile on my face thinking of this little girl. She was always sure that she was loved. She knew her mother loved her and never doubted it at all.
She knew that she loved God and would always love Him. She knew that one day, when she was an adult, a man who loved God would love her. They would be married and have children and they would love each other forever.
She knew it, she had no doubt at all, no question, no hesitation. She was wrong. How could she be so wrong? How crushed she would have been had the truth been told to her then, sitting on the flat rock throne in her parents yard, pretending to be a princess (never a queen as she wanted to avoid selfishness and pride even at that tender age).
But a princess, yes. One who was beautiful, one who would have more than one noble man seeking for her hand in marriage, the opportunity to live the rest of their lives with her love, her gifts, her talents, her companionship.
She would have cried. She would have not believed it, not thought it possible.
Do I believe it-could it be possible? What have I done or not done, how have I failed so miserably, so disastrously?
And what to do now-or not to do. Ill float, invisible and unseen. Ill shut out the voice of loneliness. Ill burry deeply the sexual needs. Ill keep laughing at my own jokes and not worry about my mental health.
Ill find all the opportunities I can to parent and mother in a way that honors God. Ill seek Him in my dealings with my family and co-workers.
Ill go to church and fellowship there, praise there, receive all I can from the message there. Ill pray daily, pray as each need, concern or praise arises. Ill do it. Ill do it alone.
Sometimes I put on the make up, sometimes I put on a dress. But nothing magical happens, no one notices-so used to my invisibility.
I was thinking then, what about times past? What about the pioneer women who had no make up?
What was it that caught the eye of a man during those times? Of course a woman or man should always be clean and well groomed. A woman could style her hair in a way that is becoming and lines up with whatever current style or traditions call for.
A nice figure is always appreciated and needs little to draw attention to it. I lack here. What do I say next? I want to explain and defend my fat. I want to change its definition and interpretation from a negative to a positive or maybe at least a neutral. Im well versed at this. Some of it is relevant, some of it is not.
If some men can have a special attraction to blond hair over brunette, why then cant some men have a special attraction for a full figure over a thin one?
Or-how important is it all anyway? I mean, what is beauty anyway?
I have had tremendous physical pleasure from men whose body types ranged from shorter than I and quite thin, to movie star handsome, to 150+ pounds over weight.
Am I so unique? I was attracted to each of these men because of a combination of things-eyes, smile, hands, voice, a look. None of these features stand alone, each is connected to a deeper meaning.
The lovemaking was based on so much more than physical appearance. My ex-husband was so over weight that the missionary position was not an option. We worked around that-LOL.
He is 17 years older than I. Not the kind of man who would turn many womens heads.
But, when we made love such ecstasy. And when I looked at him, I desired him-he turned me on.
So, what then is beauty?
I want here, to assuage my need to defend myself, state that I have been considered very beautiful. I worked as a model for a while (until I was three months pregnant with my daughter).
But what if I had no physical beauty at all. What if I even were horribly disfigured. Would there be no way, no one to love and appreciate me. Why? Why!!!
Wont all of us lose what looks we have. Wont, in the end, it be the person we are that is of importance and value.
So then, does that mean could it mean that who I am is not attractive to a man? Yes, I see, I am focusing on a relationship with a man, though, in all truth, I would enjoy the friendship of a man or woman.
Its just this idealism in me that believes when you have a mate, a partner, you are a team that is joined together and solid. So friends may come and go but your life long partner is supposed to be that one flesh that God intended-no longer single and individual but now a part of something greater than you were on your own.
I have found a freedom in being sexless. Out in public-no make up on, glasses instead of contacts, hair neat but not really becoming, clothes as basic and ignorable as possible.
Perhaps then, then if I am not a sexual being, a woman with desire and needs and the ability to excite and fulfill-perhaps then when I interact with any other human being they will see just me, the inner me, the me that is not known and has not been known for such a long time.
Praying in the shower this morning I suddenly wondered-does anyone pray for me? I dont think so, perhaps occasionally or in an unfocused and obligatory way (I myself am guilty of such self satisfying behavior at times). But does anyone really pray for me. Does anyone really care about me?
The questions almost cause a shudder. My children care, yes of course they do. But children are all about giving to them and not receiving from them. Although, I will say, I praise God that I often learn much from my children. Even then, though, it is God who is doing the giving and not they.
Let me say also they are very loving, very affectionate and bless me more than I ever could have imagined.
But my needs cannot be met by them and it would be so wrong to try to make it so.
To be correct and thorough I have to say that God knows and loves me. But there is not a human soul that does.
I try to keep the loneliness at bay. Ill call it that though I find the word not quite adequate.
But, I am familiar with it and know the foolishness I have acted out fueled by it.
So this morning, in the shower, when I wondered if anyone prayed for me I decided to pray for myself. I pray daily for myself in terms of being the mother that God desires me to be, doing a good job at work, asking for my needs to be met and that I submit my will to the Fathers this in addition to prayers for others.
But, I wanted to be prayed for tenderly, lovingly, the way I pray for my children.
So I used my childhood nickname and pictured myself at about nine years old. I prayed for this little girl who was precious and still had dreams and and she had no idea, could never even fathom that there would be a time in her life when no one loved her, cared for her, prayed for her. That she would be so utterly alone.
I asked God to keep her safe, to let her know how precious and loved she was, and to give her hope-to help her hold on to her dreams.
How is it that I am so different now, at 38, then I was as a child? Of course we age, mature, gain experience and such. But what about the essence of who we are?
Im almost invisible now. I can float in and out of public interaction with out even causing the dust to change its direction while floating in the air. There is a freedom to it. Sad but true.
I risk no chance what so ever of catching the appreciative glance of a man. I am also uninteresting to females as a potential friend. After all-what could I possibly have to offer?
Id like to think-no I desperately hope that if someone knew me, really knew me they would find me interesting, attractive, enjoyable to be with-that my company would be desired.
But how would anyone know that if they dont get to know me. And, what really do I offer to a companion. I have no hobbies. I read. I love to read because I enjoy it and because it is a wonderful way to escape.
I watch movies-same reasoning. I have a great sense of humor and often make others laugh. Well, others who I am actually around-my family, my co-workers.
Myself. I actually do laugh out loud at my own humor. Would this be listed in the beginning stages of insanity?
I enjoy music, it moves me. To hear a violin often brings tears to my eyes. I constantly have music, songs, going on in the back of my mind from the moment I awaken until I fall asleep. Perhaps even while I sleep.
At times I am not sure of the link to the songs that are playing in my head. Most of the time my mind has simply done a search for a relevant theme song to what ever I am doing or thinking at the time.
Never gonna get it is one that I play often-ha ha! I love my humor.
Have I wandered? Happens often. I usually try my best to avoid thinking. I mean, all the usual tasks of the day take such little thought really. I am only challenged when I have a parenting situation that is outside of bathing, feeding, the usual.
And I try to use my mind while praying so it is with thought, sincere, honest.
Other than that why would I want to think? Discontent. Didnt God say we should learn to be content in all things I have to work on that one then.
What was that little girl like? She was so sweet, so innocent, so sure of love. So sure. What am I sure of? Not much. I am sure of God. Sure that I must keep going and living and doing what needs to be done.
What were her dreams? This is uncomfortable territory-I can feel my emotions beginning to stir and must decide if I will continue. Ah, but I find I must. Because I currently have a sad, sweet smile on my face thinking of this little girl. She was always sure that she was loved. She knew her mother loved her and never doubted it at all.
She knew that she loved God and would always love Him. She knew that one day, when she was an adult, a man who loved God would love her. They would be married and have children and they would love each other forever.
She knew it, she had no doubt at all, no question, no hesitation. She was wrong. How could she be so wrong? How crushed she would have been had the truth been told to her then, sitting on the flat rock throne in her parents yard, pretending to be a princess (never a queen as she wanted to avoid selfishness and pride even at that tender age).
But a princess, yes. One who was beautiful, one who would have more than one noble man seeking for her hand in marriage, the opportunity to live the rest of their lives with her love, her gifts, her talents, her companionship.
She would have cried. She would have not believed it, not thought it possible.
Do I believe it-could it be possible? What have I done or not done, how have I failed so miserably, so disastrously?
And what to do now-or not to do. Ill float, invisible and unseen. Ill shut out the voice of loneliness. Ill burry deeply the sexual needs. Ill keep laughing at my own jokes and not worry about my mental health.
Ill find all the opportunities I can to parent and mother in a way that honors God. Ill seek Him in my dealings with my family and co-workers.
Ill go to church and fellowship there, praise there, receive all I can from the message there. Ill pray daily, pray as each need, concern or praise arises. Ill do it. Ill do it alone.
Sometimes I put on the make up, sometimes I put on a dress. But nothing magical happens, no one notices-so used to my invisibility.
I was thinking then, what about times past? What about the pioneer women who had no make up?
What was it that caught the eye of a man during those times? Of course a woman or man should always be clean and well groomed. A woman could style her hair in a way that is becoming and lines up with whatever current style or traditions call for.
A nice figure is always appreciated and needs little to draw attention to it. I lack here. What do I say next? I want to explain and defend my fat. I want to change its definition and interpretation from a negative to a positive or maybe at least a neutral. Im well versed at this. Some of it is relevant, some of it is not.
If some men can have a special attraction to blond hair over brunette, why then cant some men have a special attraction for a full figure over a thin one?
Or-how important is it all anyway? I mean, what is beauty anyway?
I have had tremendous physical pleasure from men whose body types ranged from shorter than I and quite thin, to movie star handsome, to 150+ pounds over weight.
Am I so unique? I was attracted to each of these men because of a combination of things-eyes, smile, hands, voice, a look. None of these features stand alone, each is connected to a deeper meaning.
The lovemaking was based on so much more than physical appearance. My ex-husband was so over weight that the missionary position was not an option. We worked around that-LOL.
He is 17 years older than I. Not the kind of man who would turn many womens heads.
But, when we made love such ecstasy. And when I looked at him, I desired him-he turned me on.
So, what then is beauty?
I want here, to assuage my need to defend myself, state that I have been considered very beautiful. I worked as a model for a while (until I was three months pregnant with my daughter).
But what if I had no physical beauty at all. What if I even were horribly disfigured. Would there be no way, no one to love and appreciate me. Why? Why!!!
Wont all of us lose what looks we have. Wont, in the end, it be the person we are that is of importance and value.
So then, does that mean could it mean that who I am is not attractive to a man? Yes, I see, I am focusing on a relationship with a man, though, in all truth, I would enjoy the friendship of a man or woman.
Its just this idealism in me that believes when you have a mate, a partner, you are a team that is joined together and solid. So friends may come and go but your life long partner is supposed to be that one flesh that God intended-no longer single and individual but now a part of something greater than you were on your own.
