I never imagined as a grown woman that I could cry so hard and for so long.
I was in bed unable to function for a week.
I cried on and off with my carved up heart for months.
Even now two years on the memory of the pain chokes me.
Two years ago I had a devastating love affair with a man I was certain was my twin flame. Here I am close to fifty, him closer to seventy and we were both astounded to find this kind of love in each other, so late in life. We both fell deeply in love. However, the grim detail was that we were both married.
We never sought to be deceitful; we didn’t even discuss the prospect of becoming lovers. There was simply a profound ease with which we moved in and around each other’s personal space. We just never feared looking deeply into the other’s eyes; it seemed clear that we must have done this a multitude of times in co-existing dimensions.
The very first moment we found ourselves alone together; we simply drew two chairs and sat opposite one another. He took off his shoes and socks and I mirrored him. He then picked up one of my feet, placed it on his lap and held it. I did the same with his foot. We didn’t really speak. It was just an extraordinary coming home of two souls, a grounding, and the full unspoken trust of handing everything over to another person. I never felt so visible, so exposed and so loved in that moment.
The relationship burned hot and fast. Every kiss from the first was as though we had kissed a thousand times before, and we moved our bodies together like we were saplings that had grown from seed side-by-side.
How were we ever going to live without each other, we thought?
We made plans to be together, to leave our respective partners. But as they say, “the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray”.
I was so fierce and determined to follow my heart. I was so fucking certain that if I was utterly committed and stayed the distance with this man even in our complex situation that we would be rewarded. I was so sure that was why I had never been fully loved by a man ever before; because I hadn’t ever fully committed; I hadn’t fully showed up. I always had one sneaky foot out the door, and a few eggs hidden in another basket. So I was going to get it right, I thought.
I threw my whole body, heart and soul into this man. We were back and forth to each other’s arms for months as we tried to end the relationship and all our plans turned upside down. One of the twins was definitely running!
The end of the relationship finally became logical to me when I began to let go of the grip I had on him. To let go of my all-consuming attachment to the pieces of myself that the puzzle-fit perfectly, was deeply unraveling.
It was like the death of a part of myself, of course, because he filled that for me.
I had to dissolve into tears, dissolve into fragments, before I could be reformed.
As the fog of grief started to lift, I began to rise from my murky emotional waters. I scraped my severed heart together and I realised why I felt so utterly devastated by the loss of this relationship. It was because I never was whole to begin with.
I have a gentle and loving Shakti essence, and she is sensual, ever present and alive in me. But my Shiva has often gone sailing on the Ganges. It dawned on me I had temporarily sampled an ‘illusion’ of a full masculine/feminine union.
“I felt so ashamed by the neediness that had lulled me into a false romantic bliss where I played only one of the characters.”
A Major Gerry-built patch job, bogged-up, spak filla half arsed heart suture. And that’s ok, for temporary Love affairs, and short hot romances, but this is not how deep long lasting true Love and respect is co-created.
However, It was a gift of greatest proportion. This beautiful man gave me the gift of being seen and loved, which offered me the opportunity to create my own inner masculine, from a crucible of heartbreak. I invited the masculine deeply into my being by opening and becoming vulnerable to this man, and breaking down every wall in myself in surrender to receive the masculine essence.
How did I do this?
By holding myself through the initial shit-hit-the-fan stage, when we were to bear the brunt of our respective partner’s emotions. Yes, holding space not only for my own process but also for that of my partner, my lover, and my lover’s partner!
There is not much cheer in this destruction, but I am, without triumph, proud of my behaviour in the aftermath, in dealing with my lover’s partner. This was a huge part of this ugly experience. Copping my castigation on the chin, and it wasn’t pretty. But I felt her pain very deeply; pain that I had partly instigated.
I mothered myself through the profound grief. I totally relied upon myself to soothe and nurture myself through the pain.
“When you have done something apparently heinous and socially unacceptable, one’s friends drop like flies.”
I wanted nothing more than to be cuddled by a friend, lover, mother, or sister but basically I self-soothed for months. I fathered myself with the cracking discipline to get the hell up out of bed. I took responsibility for my actions past and present, probably for the first time in my adult life.
This is fucking awesomely powerful, because I feel like Lady Lazarus.
I felt like I died and loved myself back to life!
I found my Twin Flame alright. She is me!
And no apologies to the spiritual and romantic believers out there.
I AM my other half. I have risen. I AM the lotus, I AM the Yin and Yang, I AM the Shakti and the Shiva, and I AM it all.
Living a multi-Orgasmic life is daily magic for me. I choose to fully open into my experience of the full spectrum of sensations my body and spirit wants to taste, and I would invite you to be the most passionate participant in your life. Hit me up with your questions if you are curious about Intimacy, Orgasms, Ejaculations, Pleasure, Passion, Love, Spirit, Heart connection, Conscious relating, managing emotions or whatever else is in the darkest recess of your wondering.
I have trained with a number of the most respected schools and facilitators here in Australia. Most of all my experience comes from a life of observing humans with loving acceptance, and talking to and working with hundreds of men.
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