Hello there and happy November! I'm glad you're back. If you're new to the Gritty Pearl, welcome! We're in the second week of a three-part discussion on intimacy and relationships. We were challenged last week with the issue of physical intimacy and married life. It can be a tender, sometimes nose-crinkling conversation, though it's hugely important to those of us maintaining marriages, or who are hoping to become married in the future. This week, we tackle body image and the ways that our insecurities can affect our relationships with the people who love us the most.
You don't own me...
I'm not just one of your many toys.
You don't own me.
Don't say I can't go with other boys.
Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba Baaaa...
And don't tell me what to do,
And don't tell me what to say.
And when I go out with you,
Don't put me on display...
Withdrawal. I'm aching for the weird that I left in a trail of exhaust just 48 hours ago. This week my word-loving, big faith, and question-everything kind of weird was in good company. Life gets pretty lonely if we don't connect with like-minded others. Having pulled onto the interstate to head back home to my post-conference reality, I sensed that I was missing the peculiar already. Yearning even...
Hey Gritty Guys and Gals!
I'm taking this week as an opportunity to check on YOU!
When was the last time somebody asked you what you thought, and actually held still long enough to hear the answer? As I gear up for a fabulous few days away at an upcoming writer's conference, I'm filled with gratitude for the past year a half that I've spent talking with all of you. I'm reminded that YOUR voices are the ones that drive me to keep writing.
My body and I, we haven't always gotten along. Like a pendulum swinging wide and predictably, my appreciation of this soul taxi has varied depending on it's appearance. I gave birth - twice - and I was so proud of it's strength. I lost the baby weight - twice - and oh, how I loathed the changes that became permanent! Ran a race, proud. Pants are tight, negative thoughts swirl. You get the picture.
I love pearls for some uncanny, against-my-generation reason. I imagine that when I wear them, I can fool a run-of-the-mill stranger into believing I drink sparkling water in a champagne flute with my breakfast. I feel a bit more glamour, a bit less "mom-of-young-boys" (who scream from the bathroom every time they need their backside wiped).
There’s an association I suppose. I transport into a 60’s era woman of charm, one who takes herself seriously but can just as easily be found giggling in the corner at a party, one elegantly gloved hand covering meticulously red-painted lips.
Like Audrey Hepburn.
I wake at six o’clock most days to drag tired legs across the bedroom carpet, feet angry at the shock of chilly bathroom tiles as I push through the threshold. I take my position at the sink, hair wild and pillow lines stamped onto my face. I squint to inspect hazy features in the mirror, bracing for additional cold as I ease my hands under the running water.
As I stumble through the beginnings of my routine, I can’t help but to notice that my family has followed me into the bathroom. You see, I’m wearing my mother’s mouth and my father’s eyes this morning. Even my pajamas are fitting a little differently these days. My body has softened into the curves of my grandmother since "thirty" arrived.
** Please note, the giveaway will be lottery-style! **
An excerpt from Bare-Boned:
Quiet yet alert; she’s enveloped in the comfy armchair that conceals her tightly crossed arms and legs. She wishes she could disappear, the weight of words settling on her young shoulders. The very men who raise and teach; her father and friends, they eat and drink together at the party, joking and unfiltered about the attraction of women and the shapes of their bodies.
She sways back and forth to the music, not a care in the world and showing very little interest in whether or not anybody's watching. This moment is between her and the beat. She's free and electric; not one second of her 70 years is a match for the energy that pours from her every move. I catch myself staring and forget my own steps in wonder. I smile in spite of myself and decide that I want to be just like her "when I grow up".
Believer. Wife. Mom. Writer. Marriage and Family Therapist. Accidental Speaker. Crossfitter and Total Book Nerd.
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PEOPLE I FOLLOW:
BECAUSE I LEARN:
BECAUSE I LAUGH:
Elizabeth Laing Thompson
Liz Curtis Higgs
BECAUSE I ADVOCATE:
Juli Slattery at Authentic Intimacy
BECAUSE I CRY (HAPPILY):
Inspiring Writing Groups:
Suzanne Eller's #LiveFreeThrusday
Holley Gerth's #CoffeeForYourHeart
Kelly Balarie's #RaraLinkup
Jennifer Duke Lee's #TellHisStory
Susan Mead's #DanceWithJesus