I’m not always the classiest person. In fact, I regularly say things that are wildly inappropriate.

Today was no exception.

While my husband was driving us back to our hotel, he reached over and grabbed my boob. My response:

IF YOU’RE GOING TO PLAY WITH THEM, YOU BETTER FUCK ME LATER.

As someone who went through years of sexual abuse and currently coping with Complex PTSD, sex is touch and go with me. Some days it’s great and fun and I have no flashbacks. Other times, it’s incredibly painful – physically and emotionally (Thanks a lot, somatization or whatever the fuck you’re called).

Today is a good day. No flashbacks. I’m on vacation (sort of…I’m out of town for a wedding). And life is relatively stress-free. When life is calm, I don’t have to work so hard to be mindful. When life is stressful or chaotic, my flashbacks become so much more difficult to manage and prevent. 

When things become stressful, I have to work extra hard to be mindful. Sex becomes more like a chore; it’s like a constant battle against my mind. I work diligently to stay present and not go back to when I was little. I can see the room start to change; my hands begin to shake; I can see the sun coming into our childhood bedroom window; I’m slipping – no longer present with the here and now.

But today is not one of those days. And over time, my husband has had to learn to read my reaction to every touch. He has had to learn that one minute things may be ok, but they can quickly change in an instant, and “no means no. And I have had to learn how to communicate when things are and are not ok. It’s not always easy for me to communicate those things with him because I want so much to be “normal;” I want to please him and have amazing sex when he wants it. I want sex to be like fireworks every time. Unfortunately, I can’t always control where my mind goes; so until I get to that point, I have to be mindful during sex and communicate when I am starting to have a flashback.

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