I’m Not There. I’m Here.

Last night I was talking to a friend about sex.  I was explaining to her how sex changed for Marc and I well over a year ago now.  I was trying to pinpoint what it was that changed.  (And, no, you don’t need to be scared about where this is going…)  I think the change started one night Marc made the comment about how our sex should be about what we were doing “in that moment” and not about anything else.  You know, like when we were all passionate when we were dating that passion came from the idea of us finally able to seal the deal when we got married.  And then, if I’m honest, sometimes we had to draw from that pre-married passion to get our married passions going.  Okay… now that I’ve revealed too much… does anyone know what I’m saying?  It’s like we’re always drawn to another moment when the reason why that other moment was so exciting was because it was actually about another moment.

There. Now I’ve thoroughly confused you.  But things changed for Marc and I when we actually started to think about what was going on between us in those moments.  It wasn’t about some passion from 10 years before.  It wasn’t about some passion in years and locations to come.  It was about that moment.  Right there.  Being with each other.  Loving each other.  Being open and vulnerable.

And that’s why you needn’t be afraid of this post (unless no one’s reading anymore), because the phrase that now defines good sex for me is:  mutual vulnerability.  (That says so much about me, right there.)  And if I may be so bold as to give an example… A month or two ago I was having a really crummy day.  I felt fat and ugly and like I’d failed with the kids and that I was not worth loving one bit.  That evening Marc and I watched that new Bob Dylan movie, the one with Cate Blanchett and Christian Bale, etc.  I think Marc was tempted to turn off the movie because I sat there, full of self-hatred with a big sulky face.  But I loved the movie.  It was very strange and deep and it made me think about life.  I just loved the stuff that Bob Dylan said, especially in the interviews.

When the movie was done Marc came over to my side of the couch and started kissing me.  And me, my hopeless little self, decided to kiss him back.  And then one thing lead to another, and all I’ll say is that it was like there was music playing in the background.  It was that good and that passionate.  And you know why?  Because there was sulky-little-failure-of-a-Dixie being kissed and held by a man who loves her despite all of her faults.  And he’s not perfect either.  Neither of us are perfect.  But we continually choose to be open and vulnerable with each other.  And in those moments when we are completely open and there is nothing to hide, when we know all of the things that embarrass us and make us feel ashamed, when we risk all of those scary things and we are still loved… well, that is what it’s all about.

And that’s why I heard music that night.  Because Marc scooped me up in his arms and loved all of the things that I don’t love about me.  And he not only did that, he made me realize that he wanted to be loved by me.  And when you mix all of that complicated yet beautiful “mutual vulnerability” stuff with just the general physiological goodness of the whole thing…. well, my friends… you get music.  Pure and simple.  Music.

Posted in Marriage | 8 Comments

8 Responses to I’m Not There. I’m Here.

  1. Randall says:

    You mention “mutual vulnerability” and being fully present to the other person “in that moment.”

    This may sound weird but, is it possible then to connect with another human being in mutual vulnerability and being present in the moment, without any physical contact happening?

    I guess I’m asking, are there these interpersonal things we can experience with others that can be just as profound for us or more so, than the act of sex?

    Or, can you have the soul connection, without the sex?

    Good post Dix. Sex is way more about the soul or spirit than many think.

  2. Ian says:

    i would agree with that even tho i do not have any one to “make music” with at present.

  3. Dixie says:

    Randall, I know people can have those kinds of “soul connection” experiences without sex. But when you say “just as profound or more so, than the act of sex”, it makes me a bit uncomfortable for some reason. Maybe b/c the line between intimacy and sex has always been a bit blurred for me. Those profound/connecting experiences tend to be intimate, but they don’t have to be sexual at all. Or maybe I just have a one-sided view of what sexual is…

    Crap. I thought I had it all figured out. 😉

    Help!

  4. Dixie says:

    I’m gonna go leaf through Rob Bell’s “Sex God” again, b/c I know he talks about this in there…

  5. Julia H. says:

    I totally understand. And I like how sex with a spouse doesn’t always have to be mind blowing-ly good, that it can be like comfort food…

  6. brad says:

    good post dixie. Again, another reason why your website should really be http://www.dixxxiejayne.com! (just joking:-)

  7. Ale says:

    Have you read “Sheet Music”? It put things into words about what I always wanted to understand about intimacy and sex.

  8. Suebob says:

    I like this post and the thoughtful truth it is written with. So much talk about sex is all ooh baby what a hottie etc…and this is more truthful and real, about what it takes to have real intimacy over the long term. To be seen for what we really are and STILL loved – that is the magic of a loving marriage.

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