killing the sadness: why mother had to go

This year has been the year in which I finally killed all the sadness inside of me and replaced it with peace and confidence. It has been an amazing year in which I can’t say that I have accomplished all the great things I set out to finish but the healing that has happened for me in 2012 has surpassed any goal I could of dreamed.

I never dreamed that I would feel whole, at peace, perfectly sure of myself in my own skin or truly happy with everything that I have and confident that I could create more happiness.

Feeling fulfilled is not something that I had known that I was capable of because I thought I had to live with depression forever. On top of my depression, I thought I had to figure out how to save my mother and help her create happiness because the dysfunctional upbringing she provided me was all about shaming me for wanting to create my own world of happiness and success. No matter how far I went I never truly dared to go too far from mother or her ways.

The most dysfunctional relationship in my life has always been the one I have with my mother.

But I should really say had because, I have cut my mother out of my life.

Sitting over dinner with a friend that I think I could so easily grow to love for everything he is I declared for the first time before another human being that I had cut my mother off.

And his response was, “LIDIA-ANAIN!”

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playful parenting

One of the things that I am most grateful for about my ForteFemme experience is that I was reminded to be more playful about my parenting.

It was as we sat in a semicircle telling one another about the kinds of play that were approved and unapproved by our parents that I thought that I could definitely be more playful with my children.

It was in that semicircle that I almost cried because of the amount of heartache that having to be the one that disciplines the children most of the time causes me.

The thought scared me because although I do have so much fun with my sons and they bring me so much joy… I hardly ever am fully in playful mode. There always seems to be this burden on my shoulders of having to be in control. Guess that I’ve never felt permission to really let go of the responsibility of parenthood and join them in play without being in control. You can even see the difference between how they totally jump into playing with dad versus how they play with me. Mom plays but always at a further distance than dad. How he gets to be one of the kids sometimes but not me has always hurt. I am the guardian, the responsible parent, the one that usually has to be Debbie Downer and set limits on how wild and carefree the play gets.

Goal 1: Figure out how to challenge myself as a parent so that I could step out of my box as the “responsible parent” and be the “fun parent” more often.

It wasn’t strange at all, thinking about how my parenting would shape my own children’s sexualities while sitting in a room full of women that were discussing how their childhood play related to their adult sexual play. It wasn’t strange at all because almost everything that I do, think or think about doing usually stirs a thought or two about how it will help or hinder my children. Once you’re a parent you’re always a parent. So, it was in that room full of women discussing their kinks that I decided that I needed to allow my children more modes of approved play.

And when I thought about it, long and hard, I realized that I had always wished my mother hadn’t been so strict with me and that when she did play with me it had been more on my terms than hers.

That’s when I thought for a minute that maybe even as a child I might have been greedy and self-centered but instantly that thought went to…

Goal 2: Make childhood more about the needs and wants of my children and less about me.

I am the parent that has always said that children teach us how to parent them yet I had not always followed my own advice. Controlling Lidia-Anain has too often wanted for her children what she didn’t have for herself as a child and forgotten that her children are not her even if they are her own.

And there it is… the web that’s so tangled that I can’t seem to get myself out of it. My childhood shaped me and the way I parent, the way I parent shapes them and the way they will parent…

So instead of worrying about how to get myself out of this tangled web of wanting to give them everything I never had, keeping them in a perfect straight line towards happiness and success as adults and being the parent they need and want, I’ve decided that maybe being playful is just what we need more of.

I can let go some…

run around the park chasing the son that loves playing tag

create art with the son that loves painting, sculpting and all things visual art

have conversations with the make-believe friends that my other son has

I can master playful parenting as soon as I learn that it isn’t a goal to be mastered but a part of parenting to be enjoyed!

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Airial Clark of The Sex Positive Parent here!

Children are a blessing that can renew our love for life and bring out the very best in us but damn it is hard work being a parent! Maintaining our sense of autonomy, remaining the sexual beings that created babies and leading our children towards making the right choices often can be a daunting juggling act which is why I am grateful when I find resources or people that can help me become a better parent.

Recently, I met, Airial Clark, a woman that not only is a great resource about all things sexuality but she’s also a sex positive parent that walks the walk too. She’s also not afraid of being vulnerable and sharing her struggles as well as her successes via the writings on her website which I can only describe as revealing eloquent prose.

Y’all know I wanted to pick her brain on the spot but because we were at a conference I had to contain my excitement at that moment. After seeing her again last weekend I read some more of her blog posts and decided to ask her to write a series of posts for Sex Love Joy and she said yes!

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vulvas vs. violence – episode two

This post is the conclusion of a story that began here.

The vulva war began with him taking down my vulva poster without asking me first. It would escalate with days and days of me bringing up how persistent violence on television had to be far worse for our children than one collage of a few vulvas on the side of our fridge. It would end with me putting my vulva poster back up exactly where it once had been but in between there were a lot of conversations about vulvas and violence.

When you are raising children together you spend a lot of time making compromises. Raising children is one of the hardest most joyful things two people can do together but it requires total collaboration and communication because even if you share similar beliefs and usually agree there will be times when you oppose one another. In my household we pretty much are always in agreement on everything. My spouse might be my opposite in many ways but when it comes to the important things we always agree – or so I thought until the topics of sexuality and violence as they pertained to our children started coming up.

My spouse, like me, was raised in a household where violence on television wasn’t a big deal. We were both allowed to watch violent television shows and movies. Sex scenes or even implied sex scenes were a no-no in our households.  His mother had him leave the room when the scenes were about to come on and my parents allowed my brother that was six years my junior to watch but not me. Our parents completely avoided talking about sexuality – in any form whatsoever. It was as if violence was okay and natural but sexuality was dirty, unnatural and not to be spoken in our households. Yet, we both knew our parents were sexual beings, we learned to masturbate on our own (feeling guilt and shame for it), and we both eventually started having sex before we became adults. The only influence our parents had over our sexuality was negative and censored but when it came to violence our parents were open and approving.

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vulvas vs. violence – episode one

In November I went to Joani Blank’s Femalia book signing and picked up the poster you see below. Joani in passing suggested that it should be placed somewhere public. I can’t remember for certain if she said something about wishing people would have them on their fridges but that’s where I put mine when I got home; the side of my fridge.

There’s nothing gross or graphic about this poster; it is a beautiful collage of vulvas. My oldest son, he was eleven at the time, commented on it being a cool looking kaleidoscope as his dad cringed knowing what made up the beautiful collage. As time passed and my oldest kept examining the poster he said that parts of it looked like organs to him. He specifically asked me, “Mom are those people’s insides in the poster?”

I was honest and told him that the poster was a collage made from photographs of different women’s vulvas. I asked him if he remembered what part of a woman’s anatomy that was; his answer sort of. That was a perfect opportunity for us to have another conversation about sex, sexuality and anatomy. I popped open some of the sexuality resources that I have that were age appropriate and we had a great talk. My son asked questions again, shared his concerns about his developing body and told me that he wasn’t too sure if he was going to like going through puberty.

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family values & the media

Family Values? How did my early family life/upbringing impact my sex/relationship life? That’s such a complex question ain’t it? That’s exactly why I want to talk about the family member that many forget has a huge part in defining our sexuality before many of us even hit puberty – the media. Like many, my parents really never had “the talk” with me which left me to learn on my own from friends, television, movies but most often from music. This is a story about how three popular songs taught my generation a few things about sex and it goes a little something like this…

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motherhood a selfish act

One of my girls says that choosing to bring children into this world is a very selfish act. If you are parent that knows the amount of selflessness required to always do right by your children you might disagree with her. But when her theory is argued using a different statement you might agree that there is some truth behind her theory.

“When Darwin used the term survival of the fittest he was not referring to your good looks or your bank account; he was counting your children. If you raise babies that have babies, you are what nature calls fit. You have passed your genes to the next generation and in terms of survival you have won.” – Dr. Helen Fisher

When my husband saw the two blue lines on the home pregnancy test he asked if we were really ready and my answer to him April 30, 1999 was, “I just want a little pocket version of you that I can spoil, love and protect! I want to see what we created from our love and lust! We will figure it out and I’m sure we will manage.” We selfishly choose to bring our first son into the world even though I wasn’t done with college, my husband didn’t have a well paying job and we barely had enjoyed being a married couple because we both agreed that we wanted living proof of “our love” in this world.

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quinceañera

If things had been different…

…Tomorrow, you’d be celebrating your Quince while everyone wished you a very happy birthday.

My reality is…

…Memories of what could have been while I wonder if I should even consider September 8th your birthday.

If things had been different…

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thankful for new beginnings

This week is going to be one crazy roller coaster ride because we officially start back up with school. We aren’t new to homeschooling but we are not experts either. This will be my third year teaching my older two and the second year teaching all three boys. Last year was incredibly hard. We started off well. We had lofty goals set but we fell very short of them. It was like every single thing that could possibly go wrong did. Teaching isn’t something that I ever saw myself doing. I especially would not have thought I’d be teaching my three sons at home. Long ago, I thought that homeschooling was for weirdos that were well just weird. Just like with everything else that I have ended up doing since I became a mother – a choice here, a situation there and another choice led me to doing something I never even thought I could, would or should do.

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chicken shit woman. brave children.

I shouldn’t tell you this but I am a chicken shit woman. I am so scared of life. I am so extremely flawed and all those flaws usually stem from a fear that I can’t seem to be brave enough to conquer. I am a chicken shit woman but I have brave children. My awesome sons amaze me on the daily because they are so very brave and unlike me. I don’t have a clue why they lack fear when their mother is such a coward. I do know what it is like to live alongside three young boys that inspire me to believe in my own courage.

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his truth is similar to mine

Light is beginning to fill my house this morning. From my bedroom I can see it creeping up the stairs coming for me but yesterday began with little light. I am not that woman that likes to look into the past too often. This year my motto has been Pa’lante which literally translates to forward. I have been working towards becoming a better woman so that I can finally sit happily in my skin and just be. So, when last week a very important man from my past wrote me again on Facebook I hesitated writing him back. I sat for a minute trying to decide if responding could lead to pain the answer was yes but then I remembered a prayer I had made a year ago.

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ambition to stand in their shadow

I still remember that girl who dreamed of becoming a Vascular and Thoracic Surgeon. I still remember going to school while I worked two jobs, had a son that was almost four and another one on the way in my womb. I was a woman with a lot of ambition and determination. Somehow while I was busy planning for a life I did not yet have the life I was living changed my course. As choices were made the costs of those choices had to be paid. In those moments I was the one that paid the cost of those choices with my ambition, my education and frankly a lot of my self-worth. I fell into motherhood a role that I had always taken very seriously but a role that had changed and not at all what I had planned for.

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