His Whispers Felt Like Daggers.

“You are so sexy”.

With ever growing confusion I would wonder, how is it after 28 years with this wonderful man I cannot yet receive these whispers of adoration?

It was as we sat chatting across the world from one another me embracing a steaming morning coffee half dressed, he half asleep undressed and as we’d say our goodbyes his whisper would be “you are so sexy”.

Sitting in the wee morning hours, candles and incense offering sacred space my body began to sob. A longing to receive his words, a desire to fully embrace that knowing and yet a heaviness that would not allow for any of it.

In between the sobs lived a truth, a truth that only after all of these years was ready to be felt, acknowledged, experience and released. A truth that would come from a young girl who’s first sexual experience came from a place of searching for love, for belonging, for worthiness.

A truth that would not come from that experience itself, but rather from the experience of being shamed and wronged for it, for being humiliated by those who’s responsibility it was to protect her. After all in their eyes, this would be the lesson she needed to learn.

That young girl would move from sexual relationship to sexual relationship in search of that same need for love, for belonging, for worthiness, for acceptance, for enoughness. 

Unknowingly to her, shame would become her lover. A shame which carefully curated unhealthy sexual relationships. A shame which perpetuated more of the same in search of what would never be found within those experiences. Love. Belonging. Worthiness. Acceptance. Enoughness.

A shame which was carried forward holding her hostage, not allowing her to experience the beauty of this sacred experience, not allowing her to feel worthy of his words, not allowing her to let down the barriers to her heart for the deepest fear of being humiliated yet again.

His early morning whispers would stir my soul, awakening me to the reality of these past 28 years with a deep embodied experience of this is, what it is to be loved, to belong, to be worthy, to be accepted, to be enough.

The same whispers that would leave me weeping would produce the very tears which would wash away the shame of the past which in fact was never my own but was rather that of those who imposed it upon that young girl.

“You are so sexy” words of adoration, of appreciation, of love. 

A whispering of words that have brought about a recognition and a remembrance of who she truly is. It was not the words that were used but the mirror which they offered allowing her to gaze deeper into it’s reflection and to uncover what she had been diligently avoiding all of these years.

A mirror that allowed for the release of old beliefs and old wounds. A reflection that offered a safe space to heal the past through the words of the present.

Comments