While my Dad and my maternal Grandmother served our country, neither died whilst in service of our country. Today is a day to honor and remember those, and their loved ones, that made the ultimate sacrifice while serving and protecting our country, and the independence and freedom that was fought for before them. As we continue to evolve and fight new threats; whether ISIS, homegrown terrorists or the continued inequity in our own justice system, let’s remember those and their families that believed and ultimately sacrificed so that we may continue on.
I truly wish I posted in a linear manner, much like Lady M of Woman Invisible, for then there would have been at least a half a dozen or several hundred posts, that would provide context as it relates to counseling. Marriage counseling specifically. That said, anyone who has followed for the better part of the last 18-months may recall that dh and I have been working through counseling since early 2014. Some weeks it’s good, which means the sessions are incredibly difficult and intense and hard. Some weeks it’s hard, which means we get stuck or hit and impasse. We each walk out in status quo mode, nothing backward but no steps forward. No emotion, just as is. And then there’s the week’s in which we are at a plateau. No, a true stalemate. I’d say we’ve been in this stage for a couple of months now. Maybe even more. Enough so that our counselor, which dh chose all those months ago, insisted on meeting with us individually these last two weeks or so. Today was my turn again. She looked at me and asked me what does it feel like, emotionally and what feelings come up, when dh pushes for some vulnerability on my part. At first I was stymied. I felt as if I’ve answered this same question over and over again with her, with all of us in the room etc. It wasn’t until she restated the question: “When dh begins to ask you to be vulnerable and hear his wants, what does that bring up for you?” Hmm, thinking about it, I finally looked at her before simply stating: “I don’t know. I know that I don’t trust what I am hearing from dh based on the last 11-years prior to starting counseling. I have no reason to feel “safe” to be vulnerable or to speak openly about my emotions or the childhood abuse that has started to flood back in my dreams nightly.”
We spent time talking about many things, she asked more and more questions related to the first 15 years of our relationship versus anything in the present. In her probing, she asked if I listened to music. Um, yes? She laughed and said, no, sorry, what I mean is does music move you? Make you laugh? Cry? Shout? Sing along? Of course. Great. She started doing music association if you will. She started with “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” the Marvin Gaye version. As she played it one more time, she asked me, aside from your kids, who do you picture when you listen to the lyrics?
“Oh”…is all I get out. She looks at me and says “there’s no right or wrong answer, yet.”…and with that, time was up.
yep. that’s right, it’s Saturday – and I’m partaking in corporate civil disobedience. My team has had a week of all-day meetings and trainings that’s left no time for our “day” jobs. And so, we are all online, trying to catch up on work as well hit a deadline the uber executive team presented us with at 8:00pm the night before last. I find myself procrastinating; just wanting to read blogs, listen to music, and catch up on household chores.
but not only do I love my career, I need it…back to the grind
My heart dropped when I saw the missed call on my mobile phone. He doesn’t usually call my mobile directly, ever. Unless he needs to reach me, to tell me he isn’t going to make it. It hasn’t happened often, given the three years or so, but any time it does, it slays me. I know it shouldn’t. Ever. His time isn’t his own, especially when it’s me doing the traveling.
Nervously I call him back and the moment I hear the tenor of his voice; cheerful and anticipatory, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s on his way…
I hear the keycard in the door and my heart immediately lifts and when I turn to see him walk through the door all I can’t help but feel the smile on my face reach all the way up to my eyes. Even after all this time. Not caring that I’m wearing my geeky girl glasses or slept in jammies, I rush forward, desperate to be near him. To inhale his scent. To have his arms wrapped around me, tightly. To taste him, to feel every sensation coursing through my being. And then, it’s up on my tiptoes to kiss him and in that nano-second, I catch the look in his cerulean blue eyes and I can’t help but gasp as my panties get wetter and my heart leaps into my throat. My nipples ache for his attention and my body vibrates in anticipation. Before I know it, I’m on the edge of that precipice. Don’t pretend you don’t know the one I’m talking about. The one in which you look over in awe and just as you reach out to balance yourself, your body has decided to pitch itself head first. Yes. That precipice. Each and every time with him. Every. Damn. Time. Over and over and over again.
As a practice, my preference is to only post images in black & white, but for this, I have to make an exception. This is the view from the cabana by the sea, if you look closely you can see surfers dotting the swirl, in which I spent some time earlier this year, in contemplation as the masseuse worked his magic.
Why am I posting about this now? Good question, I don’t know. The last few months have been a cacophony of noise. Or rather, that’s what it’s felt like. A constant buzzing of demands in every aspect of our lives. Enough so it’s almost impossible to focus on one thing at any given time. Granted, much of it is related to having a child that’s about to graduate from high school and all of the work and preparation that comes with that, along with, the ongoing work to apply to colleges and then hurry up and wait. Hoping you’ve been at least smart enough to do some financial planning when it comes to their secondary education. And of course, there’s our work, as a couple and individuals. Couples counseling, marriage counseling-whatever you call it is hard work. Especially when it’s a good session, it’s brutally hard. As it should be. But it’s also emotionally and mentally draining. I’m not one to back away from work. Ever. But lately, I need a break. Just time to breathe and take in the day. And so, I look at this picture and hear the surfers encouraging one another, as the surf breaks just outside the cabana window. And I breathe deeply. Forging ahead…
My heart dropped when I saw the missed call on my mobile phone. He doesn’t usually call my mobile directly, ever. Unless he needs to reach me, to tell me he isn’t going to make it. It hasn’t happened often, given the three years or so, but any time it does, it slays me. I know it shouldn’t. Ever. His time isn’t his own, especially when it’s me doing the traveling.
is me is really me 