Waves.

Some days they are higher than the day before. Some days they are filled to the brim with seaweed. Others they are so calm and small and rolling. My relationship has waves too. It’s the first time in my life that I’ve been choosing happily to live with a man and share a life with him. Because I want it. And it’s where my pleasure is.  I had different versions of it before that never really worked for me or for my partner. We come together as equals. We meet each other with honesty. And sometimes that means it’s tumultuous like big waves. Sometimes I don’t know where we stand. I may say something or put the internet router in the “wrong place” or get involved in something he is doing for the kids when I’m not “supposed” to. I usually feel it the moment it happens. A small glitch to the otherwise beautiful mirage. I feel him begin to disconnect or see a glaze on his eyes. Sometimes it happens in me first. I feel heat rise in my body. Feel myself holding something in my belly. I jump at a loud noise from the kids and don’t let it go. My natural pull is to want the wave to be over. To be back in the peaceful water. 

But I’m learning more and more beauty flows TO ME when I ride the waves. When I let them take me. I’m feeling more and more ok waiting longer to talk about the glitches and the big waves that I see coming or building. I’m learning that every wave has its cycle and I can’t rush them. And I’m learning that this is so much better than still water. By still water there is no breeze. There is no texture. It’s too boring. Loving the waves.