To the Woods

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.” --Henry David Thoreau

I'm headed to Girl's Camp with my Young Women next week. And I cannot wait. A few days in the woods living simply and quietly (I hope), sounds heavenly. My bones are aching for it. When I imagine heaven, I picture a hammock with my name on it. Leaves rustling in the wind high above me. A book heavy on my abdomen, open and waiting. The slow, rhythmic sway of the fabric cocoon around me. Soft eyelids. Soft gaze. Total peace in the moment.

Girls Camp probably doesn't have hammocks. But it will have trees. Good enough.

Thoreau's words seem like amazing meditations and affirmations for every day intentional living (in the woods or not):

Today I will live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.  

Sexuality

"He didn't validate my sexuality. And neither did I."

Scab's Love Rice podcasts are hitting some major trauma bruises. Especially the one above. And yet, though I can relate, I also feel alone in my particular "sexuality struggle."

It seems that most addict men demand sex from their wives, beg for it, express their constant need for it. But though I unknowingly lived with an addict for years, I was sexually deprived. Physical sex was nonexistent in my relationship.

I felt absolutely crazy over it. Why doesn't my husband want to have sex with me? Am I just hyper sexual? I must be bad for wanting sex all the time when he doesn't. Are all marriages like this?

I was rejected so many times over the years that I basically learned to live without it. I learned that vulnerability and asking to be intimate solicited the response, "No." The very few times we were sexual, were always initiated by my husband. Looking back, they were bouts of lust. Every time.

I remember being soo happy when he would want me. Because, well, it meant he was attracted to me. Loved me. Needed me. Validated me.

I sold my sexuality for sporadic lust. I was willing to jump when he was calling the shots and accept that my voice didn't hold weight or importance. "He didn't validate my sexuality. And neither did I."

What kills me looking back is that I accepted my husband's rejection. I internalized it and attributed it back to me. I started to view it as this: I am undeserving of sexual intimacy. Something is wrong with me. And when I discovered the betrayal, it staked that false belief deep inside me.

I did not validate my sexuality.

Dr. Jennifer Finlayson-Fife said in the podcast that our neediness for validation in these perceived roles we have actually undermine our potential--actually gives us a pass to underperform as individuals.

Ouch.

"I've been devalued by both of us."

In order to assert my sexuality, I need to ask "What kind of sexual relationship do I want?" My visual image for claiming the sexual relationship I want is Lucy Honeychurch from A Room with a View.

Scabs drew the image of sexual mindfulness. Which I loved. To me it means being present and seeing my sexuality and worth for what it is right now and how I can best protect and value it NOW. It's seeing and claiming the sexual life I want and deserve with wisdom, awareness and responsibility. Powerful stuff.

Self-discovery, transformation, growth, empowerment are all so key in recovery--and when it comes to protecting sexuality, it's just as important. I felt enlightened when Scabs said, "It's easy to stand up for ourselves when we can back it up from within ourselves." Deliberate, confident, personal power.

The Last 18 Months

The last eighteen months or so, this blog has been as silent as a graveyard. But our lives as a family certainly have not. These months were filled with trial after trial after trial. Trials that suddenly make writing impossible. All my energy has been redirected to just living, just coping, surviving, then healing, then dealing, feeling, going through a thousand emotions, shedding a thousand tears, all the while trying to mother and raise my three beautiful children, attend therapy, recovery groups and support family members as they go through hell and back, as well.

I don't know why trials happen. And I've cried and yelled my fair share at Heavenly Father--demanding, yelling, begging, sobbing that He answer me and tell me WHY.

But the answer that comes to my mind...and has since day one...is Why Not?

It angers me and yet it also humbles me. I know its correct despite my urge to scream that I am a poor victim in this and I did not choose it. But Life chose me, nonetheless.

The clearest answer I've received from the Spirit has been this: Wait and See.

So, I'm waiting. And I'm seeing so much. Both the good and the bad. And sometimes the downright ugly and hellish.

As an extended family, my sweet family members have now supported one another as we've discovered betrayal and infidelity, sexual addiction, rape, and now cancer. My father called me one day in fits of tears and despair. He cried, "I'm being pushed to the very edge."

But those outcries come in moments of overwhelming hopelessness and fear. And thankfully they pass. The cloud lifts and then I remember that I've seen strength, growth, empowerment, clarity, knowledge, connection, authenticity and more. I have laughed! I have been happy. And so has everyone in my family despite the complete suckage of the last 18 months. I've felt myself, and my family, rise to a new level.

There is more compassion and less judgement. There is greater focus on the things that truly matter in life--like love and the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I've discovered that my family is filled with men and women who are all trauma troopers in their own ways. Living life, standing tall, fighting for good, amazing, courageous angels on earth.

I stand all amazed at the trials life offers me. And I stand all amazed at the love and grace that Christ gives me to get through them.