Dumpster-Dancer

monagamy

“The Art of Sexual Ecstasy” is a westernized #tantra book by Margot Annand. I recommended it to a female who seemed to be interested in exploring the relationship between human sexuality and the God who made us both sexual and relational.

On further consideration, that book recommendation was the wrong one. That book helped my relationship . . . but only because I’m a man. It’s the wrong book for a feminine woman who also has a touch of the masculine essence.

At 35 I was ready to blow up my marriage. I truly and deeply loved, admired and respected my wife. Most of our relationship was idyllic. We talked, shared and budgeted on the same page. We solved problems well. We had overcome the pain of childlessness (or at least learned to deal with it.) But I ached. I ached because my sweet woman could not understand my need for something more in our sex life.

I thought that I just wanted something kinkier and more varied. I thought that I just wanted more passion and enthusiasm.

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The married stranger was scared when she realized that “this entire conversation has been sexual.” She said something like “when I feel a connection like this I . . .” She left the thought hang, but to me it sounded like she might have done things she regretted under the spell of intense emotional connection. #monagamy

So, the elephant in the room is romantic attraction. How do I know that it's possible to have intense emotional interconnection without it turning romantic and without doing stupid, destructive, empty, hedonistic stuff?

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