July 19, 2016

Embracing Every Little Bit of This Thing Called Love. {Adult-ish}

self-love, body image, heart

This article originally appeared on MeetMindful. elephant is proud to share their content, and we think you’ll love them just as much as we do. Happy reading! ~ Ed.

There has been a dramatic increase of pervasive sexual energy of late.

Raw, bold, sensual, and powerfully enticing energy that pulls you into feeling it in places which leaves you breathless. Secret places. Places where we only allow our most trusted lover or forgiving stranger to know. It whispers in your ear to come hither and let it seduce you, bringing you to your knees in supplication before you can even gasp in unsuspecting surprise.

This beguiling temptress clouds herself in the essence of earthy musk, silky sweetness, and spicy erotica. She walks past leaving you with a longing for more than just her lovely backside. Oh, and how does one make you want them even more the farther she slowly struts away? “Don’t let her go,” you say to yourself. “Don’t let her walk away”—and just like that, before you even realize it, your legs are moving, your hands are reaching, and your kiss… oh, your kiss is wanting!

How does one quench this burning fire of passionate love? How does one even allow it to surface for drenching?! We are told over and over again this “lust” that gets ignited within us is surely not l-o-v-e, capital lettered, Love. That can only happen within the confines of a pre-agreed institution; T’s crossed, I’s dotted, solid contract of commitment! Well I say f-*-c-k, capital-lettered, F*ck that!

Love is love!

Love is love in any form it finds itself manifested. Love is that pulsing, rolling, building heat that starts in your heart and works its way down to your oh! MMmmmmm… Yeah, right there.

When you decide to put focus and intention into loving yourself, someone else—or many someone else’s—you are honoring that which binds all of us together like glue. You have not only placed the intention of transferring that crouched and hidden sexual tiger into the physical manifestation of your king to her queen, but you have solidified that prayer of love into the purest of forms ever: sacred union.

Let’s give it up to God for bequeathing us such a magically erotic and unbelievably bliss-filled outlet of expressing that honoring of love. How can something that feels so right, be considered such a foul thing to experience and proudly give to another in any way, shape, or form? So how about from this point forward, we ditch what our parents, aunties and uncles, older friends, or even porn have taught us about love, sex, and intimacy. Oh snap! Yup, that’s right, I said intimacy!

Each word is just an aspect of love so why shy away from this one word? Is it because it rings too close to that other cringe-worthy word called “vulnerability?” Ewww… I can actually feel your stomach turn from here. Come on, people! What is wrong with being real with your lover—even if it means for only a night or a lifetime?

Choosing to be open and vulnerable with your lover allows him or her to be exactly what you need them to be. To fill all of your desires, fantasies, and even help alleviate those annoying insecurities you try so hard not to let us see. And you can just drop the act right now, lover. I see them. Every single one of them, and I’m still here, still smiling, and still wanting you.

I see the self-doubt disguised as boastful confidence. I see the pain of past, traumatic experience blanketed in jokes and brevity. I see the deep yearning for something real underneath the bravado of aloofness. You can’t fool me and you can’t fool love. I see what you want and I want to give it to you. So why not let me? Why not drop the act and be real for one moment? Why not allow the charade to end and let me see you?

I promise, you will never forget the experience of absolute vulnerability mixed with utter authenticity…

…Follow us over to MeetMindful to finish reading Embracing Every Little Bit of This Thing Called Love.


Author: Kimberly Stein

Image: Charlotte Astrid/Flickr

Editor: Katarina Tavčar; Travis May

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