Sexual Healing…

Last week, I asked…

Does sex matter?

My answer was a resounding…

Hell, yeah!

For me, it all goes back to my 3 Rules:

1) Life Sux!

2) Love is the only thing that makes it worth living.

3) Great sex is the best way to show that love.

That last one goes a bit deeper though. I truly, honestly believe that sex holds power to heal…at least emotionally. This Marvin Gaye song ain’t wrong, folks…

Sexual healing is good for me
Makes me feel so fine, it’s such a rush
Helps to relieve the mind, and it’s good for us

Yes, I do believe that. No, I know that is true. Because I have been both the healer and the one healed.

From soon after I lost my virginity at nineteen, sex became to me a form of communication. Whether it was in my marriages, long term relationships, or even casual encounters, I took into it honesty and openness. I offered my partners and myself acceptance. Sex was as an extension of the conversations that came before and after. Even in my torrid one-night stands, I was that ‘bartender’ that my partners spilled their deepest fears and concerns.

After my divorce to the preacher, as I began to explore my sexuality, I discovered I had some ‘secret’ appeal. Despite being overweight and average girl-next-door pretty at best, some pretty spectacular looking men were attracted to me (even a couple of famous ones…not telling). I was not sure exactly why. It was not until the demise of my second marriage and awakening of other fantasies that I began to understand what made me ‘special.’

My second marriage had left me profoundly broken. I doubted myself and my appeal. When you come downstairs in a sexy nightie and high heels only to have your husband laugh and turn back to the computer. When you are rebuffed every time, you attempt to initiate sex. When you discover that your husband is having an online affair with a sub while ignoring your submissive side. Well, hurt ain’t the word.

I spent eighteen months celibate — the most prolonged dry spell since I lost my virginity at nineteen. I thought I had lost my ‘mojo.’ An email buddy encouraged me to get online. I hooked up with another American during the London Olympics. A summer fling with a US Marine. While it was to have lasting effects on how I viewed my long term relationship prospects, it definitely restored my self-confidence.

It gave me the self-confidence to begin exploring my submissive nature. A three-year journey that both healed and harmed me. I tried new things. I don’t regret them, but there are some I definitely would not recommend. I made friends. I had sex and loved some amazing and deeply flawed people.

And yes, I healed some of them. Like my boy-toy whose fiancé broke up with him a month before the wedding that regained his confidence in my bed…and moved on to a woman his age. The partner with MS who discovered that paralysis did not mean he could no longer satisfy a woman.

But I soon realized it was not a two-way street. My partners did not genuinely reciprocate. They took, with little or no giving. There were many times that I felt ‘used.’

I came to believe that each person whom I had sex with took a piece of my soul. It healed and restored them. Now, ideally, they give a portion of theirs in return. But it does not always work that. I healed. Then they moved on to new relationships.

I saw myself a ‘priestess of the goddess of love’ as in those ancient times before written history, the ones that Riane Eisler writes about in The Chalice and The Blade. We know almost nothing about them. Much of history dismisses them as ‘prostitutes.’ But their purpose was more profound, to offer ‘communion’ with the gods and goddesses through the act of sex. Heck, I even started a story about it on Literotica.

But all that healing others left me broken and empty. Even my female lovers took more than they gave. It got to the point that I decided – no more. There was not enough of my soul left to go around.

Then he came into my life. Sex became equal. And I healed. Sex became that communion for me as well. And it sure is more fun than hours spent on your knees talking to some ‘god’ you can’t see.

Each day is better than the one before with him. I am happy as I have never been in my whole life.

But, yes, even with a millionaire Dom of my very own, troubles still come. Life and shit still happen. I have not had a good night’s sleep in almost a week. I will never adjust to living in a ‘foreign’ country. My daughter is and always will be autistic. Heck, I discovered so am I. He might be too. While on the whole, I think that is a good thing (we need different kinds of thinking), it still comes with challenges such as sensory issues, executive functioning like organization and time management, and peopling. In short, sometimes…

Life still sucks.

And yes, our love does make it all worthwhile.

And yes, sexual healing that is 100% a two-way street now is the best way to show that love.

I always knew that in my heart, even in my darkest moments. Even when I thought that blessing was for someone else but not for me. But to live it, 24/7 is a humbling and transformative experience.

One I wish for all of you…

And one that fills the pages of my books whether I write as Tara Neale or Raquel Graffen.

Sexual healing is good for me
Makes me feel so fine, it’s such a rush
Helps to relieve the mind, and it’s good for us

Have you ever had that kind of mind-blowing, earth-shattering sexual healing connection?

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