One thing that amazes me about the whole plan that He has for me... is that while God let me go through things and let me make mistakes and bad choices that will ultimately work for the good... He saw the times when I was just on the very edge of something truly life-altering and stopped it from happening.
I will probably write more on these someday, but right now, every day, I go through, "What if they knew..." and then eventually I tell someone some piece of the story and their reaction isn't nearly as bad as I expected... and I'm relieved.
I know that the person who did these things has been fading away for awhile. She tries to come back, but God is just too good to let that happen... and when she does He uses it to teach me a lesson. I am too determined to find my purpose in Him to let that happen anyway. So instead of adding these things to the story of my spiral downwards, I add them to the list of times where, in hindsight, I can clearly see God's protection... and often when I go into some of the details of the story... His call to come back to Him.
There is the time I was convinced to try cocaine... and saying that doesn't even begin to do the actual picture of what happened justice... I was in a seedy bar bathroom, snorting coke through a rolled up dollar bill. I did not care one bit about what could happen... just that this guy who told me he loved me wanted me to do this. He was just "a friend," not even a relationship... The drugs turned out to be fake.
One time I pulled out of a bar parking lot, way too intoxicated to drive the three blocks I needed to go... and was followed by a state cop for those three blocks... and he just kept going after I pulled into the driveway.
What about when I decided it wouldn't be such a bad idea to start selling myself? I figured I might as well get paid for what I was doing for free since it was all anyone wanted from me anyway. I already had some contacts and I was flat broke... Nobody except the contacts I had knew about any of this... but someone I barely knew just gave me money out of nowhere... $1000... for no reason except to help me... and with nothing expected in return.
Before I moved, a good friend confessed she had feelings for me and I just had to say no. I didn't want to say no... and I probably would have caved before long. I had secretly dated women before. But very soon after that, I met the guy who I moved away for... and she and I didn't have much contact for a long time... until God did some work on both of us.
There was a guy who wanted to take me to Vegas to check out the swingers clubs... and see whatever other kinds of trouble we could get into. His timing was bad... a week earlier I would have been able to make it work. But his vacation schedule was set.
Most of these things were more recent than I'd like to admit... but some stuff happened before I met J. I remember when I told him some of the things I did before I met him... and he cried because I wasn't the person he thought I was... and I felt awful. I hated myself for the things I couldn't change. Then, when he came back and said he wanted to be with me anyway, I thought I was lucky to have found someone so forgiving. It turns out, he was just saving it all up to throw back at me later...
That is part of my fear. I don't want people to use these things in the future to hurt me. Especially considering that these are the times I was protected... but I got into these situations because I was living a life that was so far from where I should have been.
I also know I can't continue to live in fear of who I was when WHO I AM is trying so hard to break free from all of it. I read today that you can't grow as a person if you live your life in fear of failure... that is the other part of my fear. I kept so much of my life a secret for a very long time... if I fail in some way... and people know who I used to be... it's going to be a lot harder to hide it.
Come to think of it, I'm not sure if that is good or bad...
Showing posts with label taboo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label taboo. Show all posts
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Search and destroy or let it go?
So as I wrote through the last several posts,
it began to bother me that the stories and poems I used to write
are still out there for people to read.
It's funny how difficult it is to call it what it is...
but I know I have to take a hard line with this.
I know that if I let the lines get blurred
then things that are not okay will become "okay" again...
If not for me, then for someone else...
So once again... Porn. I'm talking about porn.
It doesn't have to be a video. There doesn't have to be a picture. No audio is necessary.
It can be 100% written words, but it is what it is...
glorification of lust, degradation, abuse, lack of self worth, rape, disrespect, and so much more... all written in a way that suddenly makes it "acceptable" to the reader. Even those romance novels that my grandma used to keep in the back closet that ended with "true love" but were full of those other things...
It is still porn.
As for the stuff I wrote...
There is nothing out there even remotely connected to my name.
Nobody will ever know any of it was mine
except for one person who knew about one story...
but seeing as he was the guy I wrote about in Trashcan,
I doubt it will ever come up again.
Still, I thought that maybe I should go and have the stories taken down. Then I could delete them and never think about them again...
Problem... In an attempt to find the stories I wanted deleted forever... I came face to face with a lot... A LOT... of stuff I work hard to avoid these days.
So I think I'm going to give up on that.
I'm going to pray nobody I know ever reads the
things I came to think were 'normal' and 'fun'...
maybe they can be super-naturally deleted from cyberspace.
Praying for a lot of grace over these... not sure what else to do.
Thinking about how these were part of "the process" that I need to forgive...
but I don't know yet if I can...
this part of me might be too broken...
I can be sorry for things I know are wrong, and attempt to erase them... but the truth is, if I hadn't forced myself to stop reading and writing this kind of stuff... if I didn't know it isn't pleasing to God... I would still enjoy it very much... and what does that say about my character?
It can't be good.
it began to bother me that the stories and poems I used to write
are still out there for people to read.
It's funny how difficult it is to call it what it is...
but I know I have to take a hard line with this.
I know that if I let the lines get blurred
then things that are not okay will become "okay" again...
If not for me, then for someone else...
So once again... Porn. I'm talking about porn.
It doesn't have to be a video. There doesn't have to be a picture. No audio is necessary.
It can be 100% written words, but it is what it is...
glorification of lust, degradation, abuse, lack of self worth, rape, disrespect, and so much more... all written in a way that suddenly makes it "acceptable" to the reader. Even those romance novels that my grandma used to keep in the back closet that ended with "true love" but were full of those other things...
It is still porn.
As for the stuff I wrote...
There is nothing out there even remotely connected to my name.
Nobody will ever know any of it was mine
except for one person who knew about one story...
but seeing as he was the guy I wrote about in Trashcan,
I doubt it will ever come up again.
Still, I thought that maybe I should go and have the stories taken down. Then I could delete them and never think about them again...
Problem... In an attempt to find the stories I wanted deleted forever... I came face to face with a lot... A LOT... of stuff I work hard to avoid these days.
So I think I'm going to give up on that.
I'm going to pray nobody I know ever reads the
things I came to think were 'normal' and 'fun'...
maybe they can be super-naturally deleted from cyberspace.
Praying for a lot of grace over these... not sure what else to do.
Thinking about how these were part of "the process" that I need to forgive...
but I don't know yet if I can...
this part of me might be too broken...
I can be sorry for things I know are wrong, and attempt to erase them... but the truth is, if I hadn't forced myself to stop reading and writing this kind of stuff... if I didn't know it isn't pleasing to God... I would still enjoy it very much... and what does that say about my character?
It can't be good.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
It isn't Confidence
Beware
Out of nowhere,
overpowering,
bright light blinding,
knocks you to your knees.
Heat flaring fingertips,
beads of perspiration,
instantly evaporating.
Electricity flows
through body and soul.
The deafening roar
driving you insane.
Heart pounding thrill
dangles you near death.
A vacuum created
leaving you,
breathless.
Absorbing your energy
leaving you,
limp and lifeless.
Never striking twice
leaving you,
alone.
My love is a bolt of lightning.
What a woman she was, the woman who believed this about herself. Sexy. Confident. Knowing that she could have any man she wanted, give him the thrill of his life, and walk away... destroying him... leaving you, leaving you, leaving you... she says it 3 times... and hey, she warned him beforehand, right? So she wasn't to blame.
This was written before the term "shock and awe" became popular... but that's what she wanted to do... shock him, bring him to his knees, completely take the life from him... leave him in awe and disappear.
Today's feminists would say it sounds like a sexually liberated woman who knows what she wants and gets it without having to compromise or give up any part of herself. They would be wrong.
This was written by a broken woman. Too afraid, at that point, to attempt to act this way herself, she imagined it... wrote it down... conceived it almost as an act of revenge against those who had treated her that way.
They too would warn her. Vague answers and lies, disrespect... all were giant red flags she ignored.
No self respect. No confidence. Plenty of self loathing.
Angry.
With herself and with them.
This wasn't confidence. This was a cry.
But I got an A on the college poetry assignment and my classmates looked at me a little differently after I read it that day. Treated me a little less like "that girl everyone knows who got knocked up in high school" and a little more like someone who might know something.
And the girl in the class who was already a published writer of porn passed along some information... just in case I ever wanted to broaden my horizons.
If you read my last post, then you know this is just a little more proof... I guess God does play chess backwards.
Out of nowhere,
overpowering,
bright light blinding,
knocks you to your knees.
Heat flaring fingertips,
beads of perspiration,
instantly evaporating.
Electricity flows
through body and soul.
The deafening roar
driving you insane.
Heart pounding thrill
dangles you near death.
A vacuum created
leaving you,
breathless.
Absorbing your energy
leaving you,
limp and lifeless.
Never striking twice
leaving you,
alone.
My love is a bolt of lightning.
What a woman she was, the woman who believed this about herself. Sexy. Confident. Knowing that she could have any man she wanted, give him the thrill of his life, and walk away... destroying him... leaving you, leaving you, leaving you... she says it 3 times... and hey, she warned him beforehand, right? So she wasn't to blame.
This was written before the term "shock and awe" became popular... but that's what she wanted to do... shock him, bring him to his knees, completely take the life from him... leave him in awe and disappear.
Today's feminists would say it sounds like a sexually liberated woman who knows what she wants and gets it without having to compromise or give up any part of herself. They would be wrong.
This was written by a broken woman. Too afraid, at that point, to attempt to act this way herself, she imagined it... wrote it down... conceived it almost as an act of revenge against those who had treated her that way.
They too would warn her. Vague answers and lies, disrespect... all were giant red flags she ignored.
No self respect. No confidence. Plenty of self loathing.
Angry.
With herself and with them.
This wasn't confidence. This was a cry.
But I got an A on the college poetry assignment and my classmates looked at me a little differently after I read it that day. Treated me a little less like "that girl everyone knows who got knocked up in high school" and a little more like someone who might know something.
And the girl in the class who was already a published writer of porn passed along some information... just in case I ever wanted to broaden my horizons.
If you read my last post, then you know this is just a little more proof... I guess God does play chess backwards.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,
who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28
Friday, August 30, 2013
No, I Don't Really Want to Have this Conversation
No, I don't really want to have this conversation, but what is the point of a blog that helps hold me accountable if I only put the things in it I actually want to talk about? Plus, I have been getting the feeling that God wants me to be comfortable with this topic. (Really? Me? Seriously?)
Let's start here... I recently had to define this word for someone I know and love. Why? Because sometimes something as simple as the real definition of a word can help someone you love triumph over sin. Because until they know the true definition of that word, it is easy to say "Oh, this isn't that... that is something way worse than this... what I am doing is still on the edge of okay..."
Confused yet?
Porn. I'm talking about porn.
What is the definition of pornography? As I explained it to this someone, it goes like this... Porn is the visual, audio, or written description or depiction of anyone in a real or simulated sexual situation whether they are alone or with one or more other people of the same or opposite gender.
Wow, right? That covers a lot of stuff...
Erotic literature. Pictures. Videos. Most late night television. Definitely the VMA awards... but I'm not writing about Miley here...
So, why was it so important to share with this person that it is a slippery slope from reading semi-erotic literature created mostly by teens who have no clue what they are talking about to an all out porn addiction?
Because I know.
I could write about exes with problems. I could write about friends with problems. I could easily use other peoples' lives to say that pornography is evil, addictive and has the capacity to ruin every relationship you'll ever have... but if I can use examples from my own life I probably should.
For me, porn twisted my sense of normalcy. If what was happening on the screen or in the story I was reading (and eventually writing) was normal... then if someone asked me to do it or even go a step further... of course I should, right? Even if I didn't enjoy it. Even if I was disgusted. Even if I was embarrassed. Even if it just felt wrong. If I said "No" then someone might think there was something wrong with me. Right? Eventually... all those silly feelings went away and it all felt "normal."
Porn also messed with my idea of what was ideal. It furthered my confusion of love and sex. That love story was soooooooo romantic... yeah, he was disrespectful and that one time sort of bordered on rape... but, eventually they fell in love... so, it's all good. Right?
While only one ex boyfriend ever got angry at me for looking at (and writing) porn, there were several relationships where it was a problem for me because the other person was so obsessed with it. I can't say much more without it sounding like I'm telling other people's secrets... but at some point I decided that it must not be that bad. I'm sure another post is coming about what led to that decision... but that's not this one.
I honestly don't know that this could be called an addiction for me. I gave it up quite easily when I gave up sex... which you can read about here. More accurately, it was a symptom of my addiction.
Not that I didn't slip up... (with porn, not with sex.) I think it is clear to anyone who actually reads this blog (which I'm kinda hoping is nobody today) that I know I am a sinner... and I have a lot of work to do... but God used the last "slip-up" to open my eyes to what I was really seeing.
All of those things listed above are indeed porn, but my slip-up and my eye-opening experience resulting from that slip-up were due to a video on the internet. I'm sure I'll be writing about the other forms some time soon as well... *sigh*
The last time I watched an actual pornographic video, it was late at night. I was lonely and tired and sad and bored and restless... I just couldn't sleep. I grabbed my phone from the charger and went to a site I had been to plenty of times before in the past and picked a video at random. (Know that when God is trying to tell you something, nothing is ever random.)
The women and the man in this video were not American. The were saying things in English, but with very thick accents. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, suddenly, though the video did not change... I was watching an entirely different movie.
I started to cry.
These women were wearing clothes (barely) and makeup (lots) but it wasn't enough to hide the bruises up and down their legs and thighs... you can strategically place a hand anywhere to cover a single bruise... but there weren't enough hands on the set to cover these.
All of the sudden I realized that these were real people. I started imagining what they had been through to get those bruises and my chest started to hurt just thinking about their pain. I may be a baby when it comes to pain... but bruises hurt... Why were they being beaten? Was this something that happened all the time? What makes those kinds of bruises? Did they cry? Did they beg someone to stop? I don't know... but people don't voluntarily let themselves be bruised like that.
Let's forget that lust is a sin for just a second, and look at it this way.
Healthy, happy people don't make porn and share it with others. Maybe they were those women I'd heard about who were sold into slavery for just this type of purpose. Maybe they were being forced to do this. Maybe they were just broke and needed the money. So many maybes...
Whether these men and women are being forced to do the things they are doing, or whether they are doing it because they are hurting, broken people... what kind of a person takes any kind of pleasure in watching someone in that situation do anything?
Yes, partaking in porn is a sin. Yes, I slipped up. Yes, I learned my lesson... so much so that it has taken me a little time to actually write about it... but it is a lesson that I will share if it makes someone else think before they click play.
And as I look back over all that I've said here, I see there really is too much for one blog post... but there may be a reason I have so much to say on this subject... and all subjects pertaining to sex... Remember this post? Well, these were the things that were ever-so-lightly touched upon in that article... the article where I knew I could "preach it" better than the woman who slid past all the dirty parts of these problems and just tried to smooth it all over with a pretty picture of Jesus...
Let's start here... I recently had to define this word for someone I know and love. Why? Because sometimes something as simple as the real definition of a word can help someone you love triumph over sin. Because until they know the true definition of that word, it is easy to say "Oh, this isn't that... that is something way worse than this... what I am doing is still on the edge of okay..."
Confused yet?
Porn. I'm talking about porn.
What is the definition of pornography? As I explained it to this someone, it goes like this... Porn is the visual, audio, or written description or depiction of anyone in a real or simulated sexual situation whether they are alone or with one or more other people of the same or opposite gender.
Wow, right? That covers a lot of stuff...
Erotic literature. Pictures. Videos. Most late night television. Definitely the VMA awards... but I'm not writing about Miley here...
So, why was it so important to share with this person that it is a slippery slope from reading semi-erotic literature created mostly by teens who have no clue what they are talking about to an all out porn addiction?
Because I know.
I could write about exes with problems. I could write about friends with problems. I could easily use other peoples' lives to say that pornography is evil, addictive and has the capacity to ruin every relationship you'll ever have... but if I can use examples from my own life I probably should.
For me, porn twisted my sense of normalcy. If what was happening on the screen or in the story I was reading (and eventually writing) was normal... then if someone asked me to do it or even go a step further... of course I should, right? Even if I didn't enjoy it. Even if I was disgusted. Even if I was embarrassed. Even if it just felt wrong. If I said "No" then someone might think there was something wrong with me. Right? Eventually... all those silly feelings went away and it all felt "normal."
Porn also messed with my idea of what was ideal. It furthered my confusion of love and sex. That love story was soooooooo romantic... yeah, he was disrespectful and that one time sort of bordered on rape... but, eventually they fell in love... so, it's all good. Right?
While only one ex boyfriend ever got angry at me for looking at (and writing) porn, there were several relationships where it was a problem for me because the other person was so obsessed with it. I can't say much more without it sounding like I'm telling other people's secrets... but at some point I decided that it must not be that bad. I'm sure another post is coming about what led to that decision... but that's not this one.
I honestly don't know that this could be called an addiction for me. I gave it up quite easily when I gave up sex... which you can read about here. More accurately, it was a symptom of my addiction.
Not that I didn't slip up... (with porn, not with sex.) I think it is clear to anyone who actually reads this blog (which I'm kinda hoping is nobody today) that I know I am a sinner... and I have a lot of work to do... but God used the last "slip-up" to open my eyes to what I was really seeing.
All of those things listed above are indeed porn, but my slip-up and my eye-opening experience resulting from that slip-up were due to a video on the internet. I'm sure I'll be writing about the other forms some time soon as well... *sigh*
The last time I watched an actual pornographic video, it was late at night. I was lonely and tired and sad and bored and restless... I just couldn't sleep. I grabbed my phone from the charger and went to a site I had been to plenty of times before in the past and picked a video at random. (Know that when God is trying to tell you something, nothing is ever random.)
The women and the man in this video were not American. The were saying things in English, but with very thick accents. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Then, suddenly, though the video did not change... I was watching an entirely different movie.
I started to cry.
These women were wearing clothes (barely) and makeup (lots) but it wasn't enough to hide the bruises up and down their legs and thighs... you can strategically place a hand anywhere to cover a single bruise... but there weren't enough hands on the set to cover these.
All of the sudden I realized that these were real people. I started imagining what they had been through to get those bruises and my chest started to hurt just thinking about their pain. I may be a baby when it comes to pain... but bruises hurt... Why were they being beaten? Was this something that happened all the time? What makes those kinds of bruises? Did they cry? Did they beg someone to stop? I don't know... but people don't voluntarily let themselves be bruised like that.
Let's forget that lust is a sin for just a second, and look at it this way.
Healthy, happy people don't make porn and share it with others. Maybe they were those women I'd heard about who were sold into slavery for just this type of purpose. Maybe they were being forced to do this. Maybe they were just broke and needed the money. So many maybes...
Whether these men and women are being forced to do the things they are doing, or whether they are doing it because they are hurting, broken people... what kind of a person takes any kind of pleasure in watching someone in that situation do anything?
Yes, partaking in porn is a sin. Yes, I slipped up. Yes, I learned my lesson... so much so that it has taken me a little time to actually write about it... but it is a lesson that I will share if it makes someone else think before they click play.
And as I look back over all that I've said here, I see there really is too much for one blog post... but there may be a reason I have so much to say on this subject... and all subjects pertaining to sex... Remember this post? Well, these were the things that were ever-so-lightly touched upon in that article... the article where I knew I could "preach it" better than the woman who slid past all the dirty parts of these problems and just tried to smooth it all over with a pretty picture of Jesus...
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Trashcan
It wasn't a violent thing.
There was no yelling or screaming.
There was no kicking or hitting or biting.
I simply said no.
He didn't listen
He didn't believe me
He'd been here before
He knew I would give in
So he just kept going.
His reply to my tears
was a laugh and a line from a song
"a lap dance is always better when the stripper is crying..."
He had me half undressed before I was even awake enough to comprehend what was happening.
When he was done with me he left the room... purposely refraining from giving me the one thing I desired from every man... a hug, a kiss, a caress... something to make me feel special. Something to make giving up a piece of myself worth it.
He had always been an ass... but I put up with it because he called himself my friend. I put up with it because he would make me feel better sometimes when I was lonely. I put up with it because I saw "truth" in his eyes... my own self-loathing... he only thought I was worth one thing... and I thought only one thing made me special.
Suddenly though, I hated him. The thought of him naked suddenly made me nauseated.
Knowing that I let my kids hang out with him and his girlfriend made me want to smack my head against the wall. What was I thinking? What was he teaching my kids behind my back? What kind of example was this for them if they found out?
I told a couple of people what happened. The one whose words I valued the most at that moment told me it was my own fault for keeping bad company and that I should have known it would happen eventually and have stayed far, far away from him.
I fought that.
Didn't want to believe it.
I KNEW it wasn't my fault.
Then, weeks later, it came back to me that he once mentioned he had a "safe word"... because sometimes 'no' is just said in fun, he had told me...
It was 'trashcan' ... how appropriate...
All I had needed to do was say it... why didn't I remember? Why didn't I shout the word out? Or, forget the stupid word... why didn't I just kick him in the f-ing balls?
Why had I given in so many other times that he considered me his for the taking?
All the whys...
Let's be clear... there was no mistaking my 'no' for anything but a no...
In hindsight I can see all the ways he crushed my spirit to make sure I would do what he wanted... all the ways he played on my co-dependence (I didn't even know the true meaning of the word at the time).. all the ways he made sure I hated myself just enough to accept his affection as a confirmation that I wasn't worthless...
And this was just one man in my past... not even a serious relationship... just a "friend"... I am seriously reconsidering what that word means... "friend"... another post for another day...
There was no yelling or screaming.
There was no kicking or hitting or biting.
I simply said no.
He didn't listen
He didn't believe me
He'd been here before
He knew I would give in
So he just kept going.
His reply to my tears
was a laugh and a line from a song
"a lap dance is always better when the stripper is crying..."
He had me half undressed before I was even awake enough to comprehend what was happening.
When he was done with me he left the room... purposely refraining from giving me the one thing I desired from every man... a hug, a kiss, a caress... something to make me feel special. Something to make giving up a piece of myself worth it.
He had always been an ass... but I put up with it because he called himself my friend. I put up with it because he would make me feel better sometimes when I was lonely. I put up with it because I saw "truth" in his eyes... my own self-loathing... he only thought I was worth one thing... and I thought only one thing made me special.
Suddenly though, I hated him. The thought of him naked suddenly made me nauseated.
Knowing that I let my kids hang out with him and his girlfriend made me want to smack my head against the wall. What was I thinking? What was he teaching my kids behind my back? What kind of example was this for them if they found out?
I told a couple of people what happened. The one whose words I valued the most at that moment told me it was my own fault for keeping bad company and that I should have known it would happen eventually and have stayed far, far away from him.
I fought that.
Didn't want to believe it.
I KNEW it wasn't my fault.
Then, weeks later, it came back to me that he once mentioned he had a "safe word"... because sometimes 'no' is just said in fun, he had told me...
It was 'trashcan' ... how appropriate...
All I had needed to do was say it... why didn't I remember? Why didn't I shout the word out? Or, forget the stupid word... why didn't I just kick him in the f-ing balls?
Why had I given in so many other times that he considered me his for the taking?
All the whys...
Let's be clear... there was no mistaking my 'no' for anything but a no...
In hindsight I can see all the ways he crushed my spirit to make sure I would do what he wanted... all the ways he played on my co-dependence (I didn't even know the true meaning of the word at the time).. all the ways he made sure I hated myself just enough to accept his affection as a confirmation that I wasn't worthless...
And this was just one man in my past... not even a serious relationship... just a "friend"... I am seriously reconsidering what that word means... "friend"... another post for another day...
Monday, May 27, 2013
Facing my fears...
Starting this journey is scary for me on so many levels...
The "what if"s are innumerable...
The negative consequences whether I fail or succeed are hard to swallow.
What if there really isn't anyone who is willing to go on this journey with me?
What if there is but he sees a woman with four kids and two exes and whatever else... and says "She is totally not worth the trouble..."
What if I do find him... and we get married... and I find out that the reason it was so easy for him was that he just isn't a physically affectionate person? That thought is the scariest of all...
Beyond that though...
What if I tell people and they laugh at me? Normally that wouldn't matter... tell me I can't do something and come hell or high water it will be done... I can be a bit stubborn at times. But when we talk about one of my biggest weaknesses... I don't know...
What if, by admitting that this is one of my biggest weaknesses, I am looked at differently by some people? Women aren't supposed to have these issues... and while it is a very emotional issue for me... the issue at hand is still sex...
For men it is a "natural weakness"... for women is it a character flaw.
He is "just being a man" ... She is "just being a slut".
What if I tell people what I am doing and then I fail?
What kind of example am I setting for my daughters if that happens?
Will they say "It's just one more promise Mommy didn't keep..." I hate to admit that there have been quite a few. From promising not to let a particular ex break their hearts again... only to take him back and see him do it all over again a year later... To promising that I would never live with anyone I wasn't married to... and then making that one exception that ended up turning our world upside down for a year...
I don't want this to be just another broken promise.
What I have to remember is this: God is in control. I gave Him control over all of this. He knows what I want and what I need... and I have to believe that He will follow through for me... because He loves me, and because He has a better plan for me...
I just have to remember...
Psalm 56:11
"In GOD I have put my trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"
Still... besides sharing this blog with a bunch of strangers... (who are we kidding... nobody is reading this) and a few close friends... should I tell anyone else? Should I wear it like a badge and tell everyone I know? Or keep it a secret because it's a taboo subject to bring up?
The "what if"s are innumerable...
The negative consequences whether I fail or succeed are hard to swallow.
What if there really isn't anyone who is willing to go on this journey with me?
What if there is but he sees a woman with four kids and two exes and whatever else... and says "She is totally not worth the trouble..."
What if I do find him... and we get married... and I find out that the reason it was so easy for him was that he just isn't a physically affectionate person? That thought is the scariest of all...
Beyond that though...
What if I tell people and they laugh at me? Normally that wouldn't matter... tell me I can't do something and come hell or high water it will be done... I can be a bit stubborn at times. But when we talk about one of my biggest weaknesses... I don't know...
What if, by admitting that this is one of my biggest weaknesses, I am looked at differently by some people? Women aren't supposed to have these issues... and while it is a very emotional issue for me... the issue at hand is still sex...
For men it is a "natural weakness"... for women is it a character flaw.
He is "just being a man" ... She is "just being a slut".
What if I tell people what I am doing and then I fail?
What kind of example am I setting for my daughters if that happens?
Will they say "It's just one more promise Mommy didn't keep..." I hate to admit that there have been quite a few. From promising not to let a particular ex break their hearts again... only to take him back and see him do it all over again a year later... To promising that I would never live with anyone I wasn't married to... and then making that one exception that ended up turning our world upside down for a year...
I don't want this to be just another broken promise.
What I have to remember is this: God is in control. I gave Him control over all of this. He knows what I want and what I need... and I have to believe that He will follow through for me... because He loves me, and because He has a better plan for me...
I just have to remember...
Psalm 56:11
"In GOD I have put my trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"
Still... besides sharing this blog with a bunch of strangers... (who are we kidding... nobody is reading this) and a few close friends... should I tell anyone else? Should I wear it like a badge and tell everyone I know? Or keep it a secret because it's a taboo subject to bring up?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)