HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO, FOR LOVE?
Warning: this article references domestic abuse which may distress some readers.
It’s an interesting question for the sisterhood especially because for generations women have sacrificed and sabotaged themselves ‘in the name of love’. I believe it is high time we stopped putting our heads (and our bodies) on the chopping block, for an ideal, a pay check or worse, a shiny gold ring.
Just look how that attachment worked out for Gollum.
The things some women have done for love over time ranges from the sublime to the ridiculous and sometimes atrocious and with all the recent focus on #metoo and exposure of men like Cardinal Pell, Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein, it’s a highly sensitive issue that obviously needs to not only be addressed properly but also energetically cleared in the world, in regards to both sexes, because we are equal after all and even though we may not want to admit it about our own gender truth is, both can be just as dastardly as each other.
Personally, I have done some stupid-ass things to get affection in my past and no, I am not proud of a lot of them, but there you go, lessons learned. Low self esteem coupled with anxiety and an eating disorder will do that to a girl. I was growing up and showing up as best I could in the moment and yes, like everyone else, I didn’t always move from my highest consciousness. A lot of the time back then, I didn’t even know what that meant!
I have intentionally glammed myself up, partied with the wrong crowds and even told a few white lies when it suited my plan to grab someone suitors attention and whilst admittedly those weren’t some of my best moments, I am sure I’m not the only one who has memories like these hiding in their proverbial closet. I’ve even traveled far and wide over land and sea in an attempt to capture the heart of my crush, all with disastrous (and short term) consequences of course. Infatuation makes us do some silly things.
The Australian Bachelor this year labelled oxytocin the ‘love drug’, but it is more accurately the hormone that encourages humans “to bond socially” and women to release a baby out of their vagina, so I don’t believe this is a useful parallel to help anyone in finding the man (or woman) of their dreams!
I’ve done childbirth and I’ve done self abuse. Now it’s time to honor me.
And I think it’s important to explore the whole motherhood journey thing a little deeper because once a woman becomes a mother, something inside her definitely shifts. In fact, many things inside you shift not just your uterus, but the one major change that I think all women will relate to – and lament about on occasion like myself – is that you never feel the same degree of sensual femininity again. Your youthful spark, your sexy juju, the desire to go wild, be wanton and let loose like you’re in Ibiza without a care in the world (and no cameras around to record you), has somewhat diluted. We don’t voluntarily shut this part of ourselves down, it just kind of happens over time and even the strongest minded sisters among us will admit that they too eventually succumb to the mountains of nappies, endless sleepless nights and the sight of their post-weaning breasts losing the fight with gravity. There’s just something within that discreetly switches to ‘mummy-mode’, taking your priorities from longing for hugs and sweet talk, to craving a good book and a nana nap. Your partner knows this energy all too well because it comes with the dialogue “not tonight” or “I’ve got a headache” more often than not.
Yep. Mojo becomes no-go, almost overnight.
It may be in those fleeting moments when you do finally manage to steal away a hot cup of tea – and actually get to drink it – that your mind drifts back to the times when you were getting ready to go out with your best mates, teetering around the house in your new stilletos wondering how on earth you were actually going to dance in them let alone walk and packing your handbag with three shades of lip gloss and a couple of condoms just in case; because really, that’s all you needed wasn’t it? Didn’t matter if it was the middle of winter and you were freezing; forget the jacket, you looked hot girlfriend! That air of anticipation, excitement and a dash of good old fashioned taboo was enough to get your adrenals going and lead you into all manner of misadventure with your besties by your side. This was mind you, back in the day when it was a lot safer for single girls to be out on the town I admit, but I’m sure your minds are flooding with memories now as you recall some of your wildest escapades – before kids – times when worrying about how you were going to get to the after party, was your main concern.
Love is a drug, make no mistake. The most powerful potion on the planet and it’s what keeps all of us going. The hope of finding it, the dreams about what it will feel like when we do and of course the heartbreak that follows when we’ve lost it and swear never to feel it again.
We witness ‘love stories’ in the media every single day via the lives of celebrities, royals and posh socialites flaunting their feelings (and figures) in front of any camera that will snap them, but every once in a blue moon we also witness a tragic and torturous version of ‘happy ever after’ and it’s the one where some woman has lost her soul to an imprudent man (saying it nicely) and done something horrendous in order to ‘prove’ her love for him.
I’m talking about women who kill for love and also those who fall in love with incarcerated criminals and end up wasting their lives away professing his innocence and light to anyone who will listen. It’s a sad state of affairs and shows us just how intoxicating that damn Oxytocin can be when wielded with psychopathic and irrational intent.
For example, most of us would feel that there’s something way more disconcerting about female serial killers because of the fundamental belief we all share – this social expectation I guess – that because women bear children, they are are automatically ‘natural nurturers’, the ones you could count on if sh*t hit the fan and you needed an ally. We want to believe that our sisters wouldn’t be capable of such brutality; but in many instances, sadly, they are.
History shows us how women have not only suffered at (and been forever changed by) the hands of brutality but have also volunteered for a lot of hardship when it comes to matters of the heart; almost like the female version of conscription in a way. They have sold themselves for love; felt obliged to pack away their needs in favor of raising a family because that’s what was ‘done in the day’ (and it simultaneously provided them with financial security); they have prostituted themselves for love (sometimes for free and sometimes for money) and they have regularly abstained from love ‘in the name of god’, locking themselves away with chastity belts to again, show how serious they are about another person or their chosen deity.
Now I am neither historian or theorist but I am a spiritual intuitive and I am pretty sure god really doesn’t give two hoots about whether you are a virgin or not when you’re praying at your altar. Instead I reckon the Creator kind of wants us to be having sex otherwise we wouldn’t have these different, empowering and highly responsive genitals would we? So, to not use what you were given – with gratitude and with grace and enjoyment for all they offer as well – seems more of a sin to me than locking your bits up and pretending those carnal desires don’t exist. I think we’ve all seen plenty of examples of what happens when suppression and denial are encouraged.
Maybe it’s the wiccan in me, but surely it all comes down to balance, appropriate timing and respecting the energy doesn’t it?
At the other end of the scale, I have flirted on and off with celibacy during my life and whilst I totally get and respect the intention and the power of this practice, it isn’t for everyone. It does take a heck of a lot of focus and will power to do it justice and benefit from it as well because it’s not just about ‘not having sex’, it’s about refraining from all manner of worldly pleasures in order to channel and build your connection to the One sacred source. Celibacy isn’t only about not putting yourself out there in a sexual way, it’s a choice one makes to honor themselves and not waste time, energy (or money), spreading their essence thin with the wrong people because let’s be honest, dating sucks and nowadays you have to kiss a hell of a lot of frogs out there in the hope of maybe striking lucky with one ‘prince-like’ partner. I don’t know about you, but I just don’t have the time or the inclination to be bothered. I also value myself enough to know I deserve what I want and I am not going to compromise that to do the horizontal mambo with a complete stranger just because I’m a bit lonely. Or frisky.
We all practice celibacy actually, without realizing it, when we break up with someone for instance and take some time out to cry in the bathtub, punch pillows, replace the sex buzz with too much chocolate and give our aching hearts time to heal. That length of time differs for everyone depending on the extent of the relationship trauma and naturally both men and women are vulnerable to ‘involuntary celibacy’ – although I would venture to say that the majority of the brothers might spend less time out of the saddle than the sisters. It’s the nature of the beast though isn’t it – the males of any species are the wanderers, the ones roaming out and about ‘spreading the species’ seed’ whilst the females seek out strong mate to well, mate with.
No sexism intended here by the way, it’s just universal genetics. FYI, only 3-5% of the 5,000 mammal species in the world, are monogamous. Looks like we’re not the only ones that have a hard time putting all their eggs in the one basket.
Despite putting ourselves on a pedestal, we humans are in fact no different to any other animal and I think this is where we come undone as far as swearing to be monogamous or celibate forever and ever goes. We need company, we need companionship and we need one another to survive. Sure, some people will pair for life while others will enjoy multiple connections for however long karma deems they do. Neither way is right or wrong, but if we could just temper the sex part of things and bring that back into sacred alignment to make it something that it is supposed to be – the union of the divine masculine and the divine feminine – then I think we could solve a lot of world relations, right there. We’d certainly sort out the distortion that is pornography as well as a lot of motivation for domestic violence, sexual abuse and other lustful and lewd behaviors.
Sex was never designed as a weapon but mankind has manipulated it into one of the most powerful ones around.
When we become parents, the entire world changes, on many fronts. For women, we don’t just lose our former body shape and the ability to backflip into the splits after a few tequilas at a moment’s notice, rather now, as an embodiment of the primordial lioness that births as we give birth, we suddenly see everyone else who comes within a hair’s breadth of our precious babies as a potential predator that we need a baseball bat under the stairs for. That makes us a very different human to the one we were before we threw contraception out the window and it’s one very confronting realization to have about yourself.
It begs the question: how far would you go for love?
Would you kill someone if your lover demanded? Would you harm your own children if this person told you that your kids were the only thing standing in the way of your mutual happiness? Would you manipulate your body through surgery or dieting or excessive exercise, in order to maintain your lover’s affections and attention; to be his ‘perfect’, ‘ideal’ woman? Would you change religions for him, move overseas, cut yourself off from your family and start wearing the hijab? Would you start self harming – either openly or behind the scenes – to keep them around, to keep your partner happy and ensure you had a roof over your head? Would you stay with him even though his words (and his fists) were anything but loving? Would you place your children in danger just because the sex was off the charts; or because he paid the bills or gave you flowers once a month, after he’d knocked your teeth out? Would you slowly yet surely kill yourself, if the alternative was abandonment, rejection or having to face up to your own wounds? What would it take for you to stop making excuses for yourself – let alone for him – and give yourself permission to experience the love you deserve?
Personally, I won’t drive further than half an hour for loving that’s less than anything I deserve.
So I ask again: how far are you willing to go, for love? Do you know what keeps you subconsciously attracting the same relationships, because once you identify and heal these, you are well on your way to relationship recovery.
I hope you do come to know your limits and protect your boundaries because true love, real, unconditional love, will never ask anything of you other than to receive it; and it certainly won’t demand you harm another to justify your feelings. That’s the truth for everyone.
Remember, there ain’t no love like self love and you don’t have to go very far to find that.