Do You Even Do Sacred Sex, Bro?!


I LOOOOOOOOOOVE MEN. I love their Bromances, their constant brutal pranking of one another, the way most of them enjoy being infantilized, even their simplistic understanding of sex; 'if I make my penis feel good, then I will cum'. I have spent my entire life essentially studying and trying to understand the behavior of Men. 

Much of this drive comes from being hurt by Men throughout my life; I'm trying to understand why they did it. Men are responsible for most of my sexual, physical, psycho/emotional abuse and anguish and as a result I have an inherent fear of men. They are also the only species to ever make me feel safe; no woman, animal, or tree in nature has ever made me feel as secure and safe as the special and very significant Men in my life. They are each fascinating, puzzling, endearing and somewhat terrifying; a fun little dichotomy. Finding and keeping My Men was difficult because almost all Men have poor modeling or support on how to be a "Good" Man or even what that means.

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The Trumping Up of Men

For the majority of my life, I have taken a masculine and as such, a very logical, pragmatic, reasonable approach to my emotions, by generally denying them completely or putting them in tidy packages (for no one else in the world to see) and then turning my emotional energy into physical energy; exercising, sex, wrestling/fighting (with my Dudes), building or repairing things, yard work, you know "man" shit. While I assumed that this emotional synergy would be the pinnacle of being in relationship with me, it has never, ever, been sustainable in a relationship. They eventually want more of me or I eventually want more of them. And neither of us knew how to give of something that we had no attachment to.

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I love going on Adventures! For me though, an Adventure need not be more than a spontaneous surprise. I get the same exhilarated feeling whether I am laying on the edge of the Grand Canyon or getting lost on the way to Chinatown and being serenaded by a homeless man singing Cupid by Sam Cooke.

I was raised in a very dysfunctional family and that in itself was an adventure. The next moment was never predictable, things were usually chaotic and that really trained me to be always on the edge of my seat waiting for the next thing. The privilege of adulthood is that I am learning how to remove the dysfunction from the chaos so that I can enjoy the Adventure before me.

I look for Adventure everywhere.

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The Electric Buzz of Survival Part 3- Closing the Loop: REPOST

We all suffer trauma throughout our lives. Actually we suffer micro-traumas everyday. We lose jobs, we are rejected romantically, we are hurt by a loved one, we suffer deaths, crimes, and an influx of negative media both real (war, rape, shootings, civil unrest) and dramatized (reality t.v., hyped up news stories, that one co-worker or family member who complains about everything). Granted some traumas are worse than others and can have life altering, lasting effects on the person who was touched by them.

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The Electric Buzz of Survival Part 2- The Itch to Flip the Switch: REPOST

In any type of abusive relationship, there is a repetitive cycle that occurs. In 1979, a Psychologist named Lenore E. Walker developed the social cycle theory that is shown in the graphic here.

It has been adapted over the years and others have developed more specific versions for emotional abuse, child abuse, and even just violence in general. Having been a victim of nearly every type of abuse there is at some point of my life, I personally find her original to be a simplistic yet very accurate depiction despite who the perpetrator or the victim is.

This was my existence for most of my life. Most people wouldn't know this unless we were really close and even some of those few had/have no idea. This was also a regular part of my childhood;

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The Electric Buzz of Survival Part 1- Laying the Grid: REPOST

I've been in abusive relationships since the day I was born. I come from a very dysfunctional family and as a child I was damaged a great deal. To this day, there are remnants of the abuse I suffered from the hands, hearts, and minds of the people who should have protected me most. The people who truly know me and how I was "raised," know why I am the way I am. For those of you that don't know me . . .

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The Get Up & Gos: REPOST

I have Restless Legs Syndrome. Wait!

Let me restart.

I don't officially, by a medical professional's diagnosis have "RLS." I do, by the commercial's vague and generalized symptoms have it. I'm sure if I were to take these symptoms, that both I and the commercial have in common to a doctor, they would agree that I do indeed have it and should very quickly be placed medication X which will make my vision blurry, my hair fall out and give me horrible diarrhea but, my legs will be still for the night.

I don't actually call it RLS though; I just call it the Get Up and Gos.

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The Est and the Nth: REPOST

I am insatiable. Most that know me (especially My Men) would agree that it's a pretty fitting descriptive in many different areas of my life. I typically have more than one job at a time or multiple books being read simultaneously. My hobbies range from crocheting and knitting to wood working and working on cars (though my knowledge is limited) which are always in state of perpetual flux. I'm Bisexual which I have been told is "greedy' but, can't a girl just want it all?

My desire to become a Vampire is solely based on the fact that if I lived forever I could actually do EVERYTHING that I want. I could read every book I've ever wanted to read and

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I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry: REPOST

I have been sick for two days; throwing up until I can barely move sick.  I have repeatedly apologized to my husband for being ill and for him having to care for me and because we had to go to the hospital and because I make horrible sounds when I am puking and because I needed his help showering and so on and so on.  In the interim of this avalanche of apology, he has said one thing, "It's not your fault that you're sick.  You don't have to apologize." It's a foreign concept to me, to not continuously apologize for every single thing I'm doing; for illness, for tears, for saying, "No."  I was raised in a household where if you were sick, it was an inconvenience and you'd better be dying, otherwise

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Oh NO! My Fortress of Emotional Solitude. Whyyyyyyyyyyy!: REPOST

So, I've been home for a couple of days now.  I have mostly spent my time gushing (figuratively and literally ☺️) over what an amazing soul reintegrating experience my time in San Diego was.  The rest of the time has been spent dealing with "Jetlag" which is apparently my body struggling to adjust to time travel.  Oh Marty McFly, you make it look so easy; perhaps I should've worn a vest while I was flying to insulate my organs from the space-time continuum rip. I'm tired, really tired; physically I feel as though I have the flu, mentally I feel fried like I've been cramming for a final exam, emotionally .   .   . I am melting.  Every time I wax poetic about my week-ish in Tantra-ville, the real artistic beauty that is Tantra just flows from my mouth. Info that I didn't even realize I took in or that it resonated with me until it fell from my tongue with grace and beauty. Philosophy that sounds both beautiful and destructive; too good to be true.

The simplicity, that is Tantra's ultimate goal, has yet to be achieved.  It first is busy at work playing Jenga with this really amazing Fortress of Emotional Solitude that I built for myself.  It started small, my Fortress but,

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My Meditation Moment - REPOST

I was told by my Teacher to reach out if I needed something; if I felt under siege. I don't know that I need anything in particular other than to get this next emotional riptide completed. My body has been under attack since I returned home, jet lag, morning sickness, a severe cold. I haven't had the energy to do much but, I have managed to meditate sporadically. My Meditation moments do not look like the ones I see out in the world, whether on t.v. or in yoga class, no. Mine involve cataclysm, a break in the noise, that causes all that's inside me to just flow forth without my permission. All I can do is be there in it, it takes me to such depths; the silence is intoxicating. And the longer I sit and listen, the more I hear the absurdity of the things I tell myself; then I remember to really listen.

Meditation is not for pussies;

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Enlightenment: Who Gets to Decide What it is?

The Path to Enlightenment can be a very difficult one for those who have a very specific idea of what enlightenment is. For some, it is the end goal to a life well lived. For others, it is an unattainable state, only reached after death, after suffering on this Earthly plane. For me, enlightenment is an awareness that there is knowledge both within myself and outside of myself that is available for my use.

There are certainly moments in my life when I feel I am more enlightened; they are usually dependent on how much time I am spending alone to introspect and educate myself. I meditate regularly, read, ritualize nearly everything I do from drinking my morning cup of coffee to playing with my children, and simply strive to be a better version of myself everyday; even if just slightly.

Recently, I was told that I wasn’t as “enlightened as I think I am,”

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Roxy the RivetingComment
The Lover & The Unlovable

I have always had a very keen understanding of the various forms of love. I come from a very twisted version of it, so sometimes I am able to find the love in situations when there seems to be none present. I've been told this is a very damaged way to view it; but sometimes you have to find the beauty in the broken. 

The unfortunate thing is that not all people are capable of being loved but, it's not their fault, that blame belongs to someone else. To be a Lover to the 'Unlovable' is difficult. It takes a commitment within yourself to ignore those moments when they are acting like complete assholes, when they are pushing all your love away, a commitment to just stand there and pour more love into the hurt places. It can be extremely exhausting doing this, especially when they fight your love so much. Not because they don't want it but, because it feels wrong, foreign, inappropriate, undeserved; like an assault on their senses.

I have been both of these people in my life, so have you,

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Roxy the RivetingComment