Writing Out Insecurity For a Better Sex Life!

In this post I spoke about journaling. I have done so about three days a week. It's not as much as I'd like, but...similar to the amount of times Rex and I end up having sex... it's better than nothing! And, like our nookie, I enjoy it immensely. It's supreme mental release, and when I'm done, I always end up feeling more relaxed. What's to complain about?

But... when I do complain... boy has journaling helped! What I like about Julia Cameron's philosophy is that, if you write something over and over, after a while, you're going to get sick of looking at it and do something about it.

One of the things I tend to put on paper is how I don't have enough time for myself. And yet, whose fault is that? I fill my life with various jobs, various social obligations, kids' events, stuff for my spouse... and really... no one is holding a gun to my head. I am perpetually busy for many reasons:

1. I like being busy! I am a social being. I literally feel energized when I'm around other humanoids. My heart is touched. My soul is uplifted. I feel part of a bigger universe.

2. I have narcissistic tendencies. If I don't do it, then who will?

3. I am a people pleaser. Similar to #2, if I don't help them, who will?

4. There's something about myself - way deep in my gut... past the air of self-confidence I present to the world... that I don't like.

Ouch to #4.

It's painful to write. And yet, if I can admit this, then I'm pretty sure that many of you might relate as well. Otherwise, why are we all drinking, divorcing, over-eating, over-working, smoking or staying perpetually busy? (Hopefully not all of those at once. If so, you're gonna need a lot more than journaling to help you!)

And, since I'm feeling particularly chatty tonight, I'll also admit this: Deep inside... right where my insecurity has taken residency with the "you soooo suck you fake wannabe" gremlins... I thought that marrying the right person would save me.

Ummmm... no pressure for Rex, right? (Or my first husband.)'Cause even if Rex wanted to fix me, which he doesn't, he couldn't. But since, in my little fantasy life, I sorta wish my man could just make every little discomfort in my life go away (even though I don't really want to admit that I feel that way but I do) don't you think that this might take its toll on my desire in the bedroom at times? Don't you think if I lifted that weight off my shoulders I could go from decent sex to earth shattering, Yes! Yes! Goooddd I so deserve this ORGASMIC sex?

So class, let's get this straight: The ticket to pounding the rust off the bedsprings lies in two main points:

1. Don't expect Rex to be the end-all to all my angst

2. Love myself

#1 I have accepted. #2 is going to take some time. But through journaling (and shh... maybe some counseling and prayer) I'll get there.

In closing, lest any of you think I have some self-hatred, self-tortured view of myself, I actually don't. Not on the surface. But subconsciously, like so many humans, I fight demons like anyone else: Who am I to be a parent? Who am I to deserve success? Who am I to get flirted with at almost 40? (Lately, it's been insane. Odd.)

Apparently, I'm someone pretty special. And so are you. And it's time to work towards accepting that and rock our spouses' world. Who's with me?

* Photo of an older couple I saw at the park a few months back. They were kissing and hugging and snuggling. I wonder if, at 75, this lady was still hoping her boyfriend would solve all her problems? I'm hoping that she instead just knew who she was, and he was her 80 year old boy-toy hubby who rocked her world because she loved herself first.

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