She Flies Solo-But Why?

I am most intrigued.

A blog I follow by a cyber friend has revealed her innermost truths. Folks think they find honesty when they come thru here…this sista is fully exposed.

Her most recent truth did something to me. She’s a 30 yr old virgin. Barely been kissed. All the intimate and intricate details that most of us get giddy over…she’s not experienced them at all or in some abbreviated form. She attributes it to early religious upbringing. She attributes it to choice. She wants to make sure it’s with a man truly worthy of all her gems. She attributes it to her weight, a self-proclaimed Big Gurl. She thinks, now, that there’s too much of her, inside and out to come across the right man. She says no one has been worthy.

I’m just 4 years her senior. And I can’t imagine virginity as a way of life. Celibacy, I suppose, can be seen as honorable depending on the reasons for the choice. But I can’t relate. I’ve done stints with abstinence, purposefully choosing to take a break from physical sharing. I didn’t have any spiritual epiphanies. Never came out feeling like I had experienced a re-awakening. And it was never as difficult as I’d heard or imagined myself. The mind is stronger than the flesh and, in fact, it controls it as the biggest sex organ. Still, I can’t imagine it as a life choice.
We all do what we do for different reasons. I identified with my sensual nature at a very early age. I liked the feel of men’s beards against my face. I was always fascinated by the different ways men’s hands came, and wanted to know how different were the ways they held. Because we’re always trying to psychologize things, it could be the way I’ve filled the void of not having my father in the home. I could have been on a constant search for the love of a man to ease the hurt of not being near him. But maybe not. I’ve never lacked my father’s love, just his physical presence in the home I grew up in.

No matter. I can’t imagine being 30 and never having experienced the communion between man and woman. I can’t imagine never having the whisper of a man’s breath on my back and the shudder it can bring if he’s mastered the art of ME. I am moved by the first extended glance, eyes locked in agreement that “I’m feelin’ you!” I am moved by the first time hands touch and the texture becomes a map, short distances through pit stops in his life. I am moved by the first kiss and the electric tingles that shoot through me when the moment feels like it was written. I am humbled by those flesh-on-flesh moments when nakedness is exposed and the truth lays before me and challenges my decision to be in and/or stay in the moment. I am humbled by what happens next, once I’ve decided that staying is worth it.

...the beauty of heart beats & breath to synchronize...

The sounds. The scents. The sights.

I can’t imagine living without them. And that was all just the physical aspect.
It makes me sad that no one has moved this sista enough to share in this way. That she hasn’t been able to trust and give. That perhaps her own insecurities have projected outward and repelled any potential partners, willing to traverse this intimate space with her.

I feel guilty when another’s situation/experience makes me feel thankful for what I’ve got. But I feel relief here…that her story is not my own. At the same time, I am deeply saddened for her, though she hasn’t asked me to be, and want nothing more than for her to be able to one day know the splenderific (yeah…I make up words) feelings that come from physical, sexual, and emotional intimacies. I have not walked in her shoes, and I’m sure there is more to this story than she’s left in the blogosphere, much like there’s more to what I’ve opened up here as well, more to us all.

I will offer this: a lot of what we say and do are barriers to protect what we think and feel. What you think of yourself, Sis, seems to jump out at me and I could be wrong in my assumptions. If I’m right though…you have healing that needs to be done, beyond the health concerns (diabetes) that you’ve mentioned, so that you can rise above the self-image you’ve drawn. Tap into your beauty, connect with and raise your self-esteem. And unless it’s solely by choice, which I didn’t take away from your words, I hope there aren’t too many more years added to your age next to your virginity. Sex is not the cornerstone of life, but you’re missing out on some really life-shaping exchanges.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue to live the opposite of your existence in tribute to the beauty of and power in femininity and womanhood, and the joys of intimacy.

Watch me move.