Naked

"Eros shall have naked bodies; friendship naked personalities." C. S. Lewis

On purpose I have not written much about my marriage, which I ended almost three years ago. Some of it is that my ex-husband is a good man, a great father and someone who was instrumental in my becoming the person I am today. I feel a need to express some things without painting him in a negative light, to tell some stories that don't disrespect him, and so I struggle with walking that fine line. The failure of our seventeen year marriage was as much me as it was him. After we separated, we met once a week for dinner for almost three months and did an autopsy of our relationship. That was not conducive to good digestion, believe me. Who in their right mind conducts an autopsy while eating a meal? But that's what we did. I also went to therapy because it was crucial for me to understand all the ways in which I had failed, so that I could take responsibility and be fully accountable for my part.

I remember one time midway through my marriage, I was home sick from work and had Dr. Phil on. I am not a fan of his type of psychology, but what he said that day really affected me. He spoke of allowing our partner to come in to the most intimate place of in our hearts. I had a visceral reaction. No way! No one comes in there. That place belongs to me. I guard it zealously. The idea of it really upset me, and I remember talking with a friend a few days later about it. She looked at me strangely and said, "Why wouldn't you want your husband in there? Isn't that what intimacy is all about?" Well. Yes. Of course, that is what intimacy is all about but it sounded hideous and scary and awful to me.

It's plain to see that he and I lacked trust. I didn't trust him not to hurt me. Some of that was my own baggage and some of it was his behavior, a pattern of cruel emotional and verbal abuse. I didn't trust him. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I now see that there were a number of red flags that went up before I married him, which I chose to ignore. I was physically naked with him countless times. We had sex with the lights on. When the kids weren't around I would walk around naked. When we went on vacation, just the two of us alone, I would sleep naked. I loved sex and was often the initiator.  I was not at all self-conscious being naked physically around him, but I have to ask myself was there ever a time when my personality was naked with him? Was there ever a time when I had my guard completely down? Was there ever a time I beckoned him to come into my most intimate, most secret place in my heart?

No. He was never allowed in there. I was kind and loving and generous and supportive. I did many of the things and made many of the gestures that I believed a good wife should, but my soul never, not one time, stood naked before this man. Never. This has come as a startling revelation to me here lately, as I have begun to become much more vulnerable, first here in my blog, and with other people in real life. I have become pretty bold at sharing my stories, even when they paint me in a very bad light. It is very simple really, that when I trust people and when I feel safe, I can show my naked personality. When I think about a time in the future when I might meet another man, I think I can't wait to invite him into that most intimate place in my heart. I can't wait for him to see my naked soul.

Susan

Trust

"Someone who thinks the world is always cheating him is right. He is missing that wonderful feeling of trust in someone or something." Eric Hoffer

He is the most magnificent Golden Retriever I have ever seen. This big, beautiful boy had a very rough start in life. Humans abused his trust and hurt him, and he was rightfully afraid. Under the care of his new doggy daddy, he has gone from scared to cautious, and now he is blossoming. He holds his head high as he walks along, those beautiful feathers on his tail swishing in the breeze. He is learning that the world is a wonderful place, with lots more good stuff than bad. He is learning that people are kind, with lots more good people than bad. He is learning to trust again. He is becoming a very happy dog.

We deny ourselves a lot of happiness when we won't trust. We walk suspiciously through life, head down, shoulders hunched, muttering under our breath. Not trusting says more about us than about the object of our distrust. When we say, "I don't trust him," what we often are saying is, "I don't trust my ability to deal with it if he lets me down." As our confidence in our ability to handle the rough patches in life grows, so does our willingness to trust. When we know we can bounce back from disappointments and hurt, we become much more willing to take the risk to trust.

And it is a risk to be vulnerable and trust. It is exhiliarating, however, when we trust and our trust is rewarded. I guess it comes down to this. Do we want to blossom, like my friend the Golden Retriever? Then we need to move from scared to cautious to trusting, knowing full well that whatever happens, we will be fine.

Susan

The Pink Knight

Knights were young men in the age of chivalry. In medieval times, they were, above all else, protectors. Ladies trusted them implicitly. From an era long gone, they are the stuff charming stories and colorful movies are made of.

Have you ever felt you've been here before? That feeling of "deja vu?" Do you know a very young child some might refer to as an "old soul?" How about that new friend, the one you connected with immediately as if you'd been friends forever? Some folks believe that we have had past lives, or at the very least that we existed in some other form, perhaps in some other dimension before we were born into this life. That perhaps some people in our lives today were in a past life with us. Neale Donald Walsch suggests we have been here hundreds of times before. Louise L. Hay tells those of us with flawed parents, that our parents are actually the perfect ones for us because we chose them before we were born. These ideas were startling to me at first, but I have discovered many groups have these kinds of beliefs. I don't know what to believe about all of it, but I am entertained just pondering it.

I have a knight. A present-day knight. A girl. The Pink Knight. Now on the surface, she is my seven-year-old granddaughter. She, her older sister and I visited an amusement park and brought home souvenirs. She chose a pink foam shield and matching sword, each decorated with girly swirlies and ruby red jewels. She set out to protect me. Now, on the surface, I am a modern day, independent woman who needs no protection. Apparently the Pink Knight knows something I don't know.

She cleansed my home of spirits. She was quite serious about it, and on the surface it seemed to be an imaginative little girl playing make-believe. What she had no way of knowing (?) was that there were some unhealthy circumstances there recently. I would never tell my little granddaughters about adult problems, because I want to protect them from that. My dear friend/roommate and I handled the situation, the two of us working as a very effective team. Relieved that things were resolved, we had been enjoying the peace and happiness of our home for a few weeks. Apparently the Pink Knight knew something we didn't know. Some of the things she told us as she went about her knight business were nothing short of amazing.

My granddaughters and I had a wonderful time together. I love those little girls, and I would do anything for them. I would protect them with my life if it came down to that, and not even give it a second thought. They are young and innocent and vulnerable and deserve to be protected. That being said, it is abundantly clear now that Grandma needed protection, too. And I do feel safe and cared for and protected. I trust the Pink Knight implicitly, because apparently she knows some things I don't know.

Susan

Trust

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." Ernest Hemingway

Some people have trust issues, rooted in childbood experiences. Therapy can be helpful for that. But some of us don't trust because we don't want to relinquish control of the outcome.

I have an amazing new hair stylist. She is an artist in the true sense of the word. She has a passion for her work and this uncanny ability to size someone up rather quickly and know just what will make them look their best. The first time I saw her, I told her to do whatever she wanted. She asked a couple of questions here and there, and I answered them but added that she should do whatever she thought best, because she was the artist.

After all, it's only hair. If you like to take things out to their worst possible scenario, what is the worst that could have happened when I put myself totally in her hands, trusted her and gave up my control? Baldness. This would not be the end of the world. I could buy a wig, wear a hat or scarf, or just walk around with no hair. I'll bet people would then be really nice to me because they would assume I had cancer and was going through chemotherapy.

I walked out of her shop looking fabulous. And here is why. My total trust unleashed her total creativity. I didn't hold back, so she didn't have to either. What a powerful combination.

Susan