Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Saturday, November 28, 2020

BEING NAKED

This is a lengthy post, with lots of turns and twists.

But it all dovetails.

This post may offend some people.

I am not responsible for thier emotions.

I am responsible for ME.

If my Blog posts can benefit others, fine; but I do not post specifically for that reason ... I post FOR ME.

I, too, am still a 'work in progress' - this Blog, and my posts are my way of healing: my way is not everybody else's way. And that is okay ðŸ˜‰

Yesterday I read an article that was intended to touch on the nakedness of a widow’s new reality.

MPO is that it was lacking in substance.

Psychology is simply ego at it’s ‘nth. It's loop reasoning that is not really helpful at all.
The answers to our inner quests lies within US – not in someone else’s opinions based on speculation.

I found it shallowly pretentious, and actually quite insulting.

It was, of course, written from a man’s point of view; men do not understand women … a man is not a woman. We are hardwired differently.

The deep-level-comprehension simply is not there.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/in-the-name-love/201203/love-after-death-the-widows-romantic-predicaments?fbclid=IwAR2wIZ_0mFBWjqRa-DRFmo57wK_M2hKglBDlEEMqOPaDgmmc5PEA-MTT_2o

Honest to God, I do not understand people, at all.

ALL of the previous 20th century, was about the advancement of women’s rights … t.h.e.e.n.t.i.r.e.c.e.n.t.u.r.y.: were the ‘feminists raising their voices’ now, living under rocks then?

The premise of the article highlighted above, seems to hinge on the opinion of the author, that women – specifically widowed women – are clueless about their power; and lot in life.

The women reading that twaddle are my age … or slightly younger in their mid-50’s.

WHERE HAVE THEY BEEN THE PAST 60-70 YEARS????

I was born in 1956. I was raised during the 1960’s counter culture upheaval. I came of age in the 1970’s freefall – where traditional marriage was shattered, abortion became the standard for birth control in drug/sex-crazed America – and people generally lost all common sense.

The demonrat obamanites insist we never graduate beyond the ‘60’s: their entire party agenda is to stay suspended in a perpetual Woodstock frame of mind.
1970's Feminism
1970's Abortion/torpedoing of foundational 'norms' ... and boy (!) is the demonrat obamanite party, ramming this down our throats every second of every day.

In 1974, I married young: I was 17 … Bob was 24. Bob had been married before, at 19; he was going through a messy divorce when we met. I never regretted marrying young – in reality, I was never a teenager. I was 17 going on 25. I was ready to match with Bob, and we enjoyed 44 wonderful years of married happiness. Were all those days happy ones? Of course not … but they were always joyful ones because we chose happy: we chose US 😊


Christmas 1977 at Bob’s parents’ house in Longview. Bob and I had been arguing before we left home (I had severe allergies and wanted to stay home), and I did not want to be ‘pretending’ to be there: I wanted to go home and go back to bed until the headache faded. I think you can see what my thoughts were, by the way I was fussing with my fringed vest … when Bob saw me strangling the fringe, we didn’t stay long.
September 1978. Bob broke his thigh bone doing what I had asked him not to do – I was furious with him, and this was his 1st death: a blood clot broke loose after surgery and killed him right in front of me in the hospital visitation room (our daughter could visit him there) – he was paddled back to life in front of me. We are smiling because we were glad he lived; and we were happy together at home … but I was pissed for quite a while.
August 1998. Alyna 18 MO. Our 1st and only attempt at getting the family (all sides) together for a Family Reunion campout … No one from Bob’s family came, my family all came; and acted the asses they were; and the kid’s with their significant other’s showed up – but everyone was sniping at each other: it was a failure. But, Bob and I smiled through it anyway: we focused on US.

Neither Bob, nor I, were virgins when we met, fell in love, and married. Bob had been married – and had lovers before we met. Bob was my only husband … but he was not my only lover. He was, however, my last lover: the best, and the most worthy of remembrance – I loved him. I am not a prude; it's just that Bob was my passion. Bob is still my passion. Though I had had lovers before Bob, I cannot imagine a lover now, following Bob.

That part of my life will always belong to Bob. And I’m okay with that.

I realize Bob was a mere mortal; but he was MY mortal with MY interpretation of superman qualities ðŸ˜‰ In MY life, Bob is irreplaceable

Some widows are not; and I am not God. It’s none of my business – even if they make it my business by sharing their private business with me.

But because they are widows, like me, I know they have been married; and it escapes my thought process as to how clueless some can be about relationship, love, sex, and happiness.

Some widows have been naked – but do not understand nakedness (not judging, just making an observation).

There was no soul nakedness threaded through the artilce – it was just plain nakedness.

MPO is that it really did not touch on what a widow is really seeking in all that dating information.

If they just want a booty call 'date', I suppose it filled the bill; but if they are wanting something deeoer, it was woefully lacking.


There was no depth to the article.

That could be widow’s fog incomprehension – that brain shroud can make anything, and everything, seem hypnotically engaging if deep thinking isn't involved. On the other hand, when people lose their sense of direction, they hone in on any voice that promises to lead them out of the fog.


But it could also be that society has become so tweaked, that thinking at all becomes complex and confusing in general. People are so busy panting after the next naked encounter, that they have forgotten the importance of being naked with each other.


This is what births happiness … and wholeness. Unless the 2 meet, there will always be dissatisfaction.

I shook my head in the 1980’s when my daughter idolized singers and actors that emulated 1950’s idols and actors (traditional values as opposed to the ‘modern’ outlook on life) WHILE screaming for ‘women’s rights!’ – rights that had already been fought for … and won; all to the detriment of society as a whole (MPO). But her teachers were telling her that women had no rights; and her parents were “too old-fashioned to understand”. Imagine that: too old-fashioned! Bob and I were anything but old-fashioned; but, we were married … and that, according to her ‘educated’ teachers, labeled us a clueless/out-of-touch and out-of-step. We shrugged and laughed at the arrogant stupidity of the clueless 20-something teachers; and hoped out children would mature with the passage of time, like Bob and I did: they didn’t.

Throughout all of the 1990’s, we watched our children struggle through a topsy-turvy life, where confused men sulked and angry women demanded to “live like men do!”generally women with a sad and unjustifiable view of the male sex: began to bully their way through life; looked down on those they deemed unworthy as they clawed their way up the social ladder of pandering acceptance; pushed down compassionate empathy to be “like men”; indulged in bold open affairs with whoever-whenever – the younger, the better (school rapes between female ‘teachers’ and underage male children were glorified) and older women proudly wore the title ‘Cougar’ as they paraded their boy-toys.

Women were ‘empowered’ to act like fools, and men were emotionally and spiritually castrated to the point of being worthless for anything except a sexual escapade: they were throwaways with no rights when it came to the murder/or the adoption of their children, who were the unwanted result of free-for-all-romps.

The ‘liberated’ women were acting like men alright … the culls of the male spectrum; those who exhibited the base animal instinct of animals.

What woman, in her right mind, would want to sink so low; and behave so low?

A truly liberated woman knows her value, is beautiful and desirable in her own worth … and behaves like a Queen – solo lobo, or coupled: a truly liberated woman never forgets she is priceless.

Bob knew my value: he always told me I was his “beautiful Lady”; he desired me because I was desirable (even in the free-love 1970's, I was not a cut-rate slut giving my favors out to everyone and anyone, just because I could) … and he always treated me as his equal because I wouldn’t accept less: from anyone. I was my King Bee’s Queen – and that’s how he talked about me/treated me.

We had each other’s hearts.

We had each other’s backs. 

We had a good thing 😊


I always laughed when Bob called me his Lady; but now, I glory in the fact that he saw a Lady in me … and that I was, indeed, “his Lady”; despite my tomboy appearance and behavior, I always valued myself – my own unique individuality that would not allow anyone to use, abuse, or take advantage of me.


Bob was privy to my secrets; and he saw/encouraged my inner-strength.

Bob knew what it cost me to hand him my heart – he treasured it, and took care of it, to his last breath this side of Heaven

Bob experienced my budding softness – he birthed it in me.

We were true soulmates. I feel half of me has been amputated
My heart can never belong to anyone else; it was always Bobs ~ always.

I respected ME: and I expected everyone else to respect me too. I didn’t waste time or energy on those who wouldn’t see my worth.

There was always more between Bob and I than just sex. It may have started out that way for the first few weeks (I was so happy to finally meet my Mr. Fantasy that I wasn’t going to waste any time enjoying him – and letting him enjoy me!); but as our love took root, sex quickly became lovemaking – deep and true/pouring ourselves into each other and drawing the best out for each other; we shared our secrets/fears/hopes/dreams. We inspired each other to hope: and dared to dream. WE were more than tangled sheets, bodies, and hair – I and me became WE … and We were tangled, committed hearts: there was no other way for us. 

I was tough, but Bob brought out the softness in me 😉

I am a strong equal, but I see no need to castrate a man to see myself as ‘an equal’.


Aggressively angry woman are never beautiful, or desirable to anyone: not even herself, and that is why so many women today are dissatisfied.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ9mz2MlwU4)

They know how to get naked… but they don’t know how to be naked.


They’ve lost their inner self.


Our children, though shunning us, and our way of life, did decide to keep their children (thank God!), and we welcomed 3 granddaughters (spaced throughout the ‘90’s) into this madhouse life that had become the standard “modern life” on Earth, the 3rd planet from the sun. I worried how they might grow up healthy, and happy … in such a twisted worldview.

With the dawning of 2000, the term ‘hippie’ came into societal play again … but there was nothing about the term that was recognizable to either Bob or myself – the term had been hijacked by the demonrats to push a political agenda, and rush a nobody from nowhere into the White house; solely on skin color and religious background: an outright coup downplayed by applauding a political party that advocated for ‘women’s rights!’ that include free drug use, free sex, free abortion, free gender reassignment – and very few even batted an eye at the obvious political tyranny that played out for 8 long and tortuous years: no one wanted to be labeled a racist by racists in governing seats – and most especially in the highest seat of our Nation.

Whereas the term ‘hippie’, had originally meant ‘against the establishment’ … the new emphasis on hippie, was to embrace the establishment because the demonrat establishment will give you free drugs, free medical, free housing, free food, free abortion, free schooling, free gender reassignment – ect. It is a trap, but drug-addled, sex-crazed people are easily led to entrapment. Especially if the trap is what they fantasize about.


1970's Hippies
Apparently the anti-establishment has changed their mind about ‘the man’ – biden is die-hard-‘do-nothing-establishment’. But they, his followers get free drugs and a 10’x10’ spot in a tent city; paid for BY THE ESTABLISHMENT.
obama-clinton-pelosi-biden-harris violently destructive 2020 'summer of love' - COURTESY OF THE ESTABLISHMENT. insleeze claims he “never heard of it”.

We welcomed a grandson in 2014 … and I really worried about his future as a male. My worry is justifiable: besides being viewed as a sexual plaything, a male has no value in today’s society; there is no place for a male – and now, males are being ‘reassigned’ new ‘gender roles’. Manhood is being eradicated, as angry females denouncing President Trump for his “lockeroom talk” – that makes him “a despicable pig!” … gnash their teeth, and gleefully shout, “grab him by the balls and squeeze till he screams! Use your power to make him kneel and beg for mercy!” about any and all men: they’ve been doing this for decades, and it’s insanely sad, and pathetic.

2020 feminism. NO tolerance at all.
2020 feminism. The murderous hatred is now going beyond killing the innocent before they even draw a breath – they want to bag ‘bigger game’ now; it almost sounds cannibalistic.
2020 feminism. NO! He is deluded ... men are not females; no matter how surgically enhanced or mentally deranged them become. The obamanite freakshow is not reality.
2020 feminism. TOTAL DISCONNECT.

THIS PURE/VIOLENT HATRED is not ‘feminism’ – it is demeaning to womanhood.

So, here we are again, in 2020 … reliving the mid-2000’s … with the same ugly political faces/ugly political attitudes/ugly political agenda/ugly political results – shouting the same political rhetoric, to suck in the unwary, the lost, and the gullible. But there is a new sick twist to the twisted freakshow the obama era birthed: sexual gender has been erased. For all the spiel about ‘needing a woman President’ … and pushing a parody of a woman forward in man-necked kamala harris (who apparently doesn’t even know how to pronounced her own name), HOW can we be sure there will ever be an ACTUAL FEMALE President, if that ever happens?

The demonrat party has become a gender freakshow parody. It’s really sad that people, in America think this fantastical insanity is ‘normal’ and acceptable as sane or rational behavior.

michael obama's moral hypocrisy; barak’s ‘wife’ really has high standards, doesn’t he?
And then … hellery became ‘Tammy Wynette’.
This lying witch can see past her own nose to comprehend her hateful hypocrisy.
Apparently the obama-clinton-pelosi-harris have no problem at all with their sexually inappropriate pet, dementia boy biden. They don’t even try to hide their familial skeletons anymore.
Preaching the party line: what an aspiration to the female sector of society..
demonrat lawlessness agenda
obamanite daily freakshow
amazon clothing ... thanks to the sexually deviant obama era

What has been taking place across America for 60-70 years is not women empowering themselves!

Back to the article …

ORIGINAL POST: {“Excellent read: Love After Death: The Widow’s Romantic Predicaments

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/in-the-name-love/201203/love-after-death-the-widows-romantic-predicaments?fbclid=IwAR2wIZ_0mFBWjqRa-DRFmo57wK_M2hKglBDlEEMqOPaDgmmc5PEA-MTT_2o

So few people really understand the widow's desire for a second love, or worse yet, don't care to understand.”}

ME: I think people do understand the life of a widow … we no longer live in the Victorian era; but most people realize love, romance, and sex are private matters. They have to be dealt with privately.

Page by page, as our new life unfolds.


Widows are not cookie-cutter figures; each widow is different, unique in her sorrow – in her life story unfolding: no 1 assessment will fit the assortment. There is no quick, or easy “fix”.

 

I think most widows, themselves, are the confused ones as they try to come to terms with their new station in life – and that’s okay: it’s an adjustment.

 

I was only 6 weeks into my solo lobo life, when me sister asked me if I was thinking about dating: it angered me. The insensitivity still angers me.

It was at Bob’s Celebration of Life Event, August 30th, 2019, that one of his Aunts came up to me and said I should start thinking about dating again. I was speechless – I had just placed Bob’s Cremains Box! I know she meant well, but it was offensive.

Friends, too, jumped on the Dating Bandwagon.

Widow Groups started setting up Dating Rooms.

I don’t know why everyone seems to believe it is their mission in life to push widows into the dating game.

IF … and that is a very “iffy” I.F. … ((((I)))) decide to wet my toes in the shallow end of a testosterone pool – that is MY business; not anyone else’s business to meddle in.

I am not in High School: I don’t feel the need to parade around with a male trailing me – or share giggly whispers with curious females around the water fountain.

Bob always was … and always will BE my passion; no one else can change that. I don’t feel guilty for loving my husband. And I don’t allow others to guilt me into dating; so they feel comfortable around me.

My life is MINE.

I CHOSE how I want to live it.

I shared my life with Bob for 44 years; I have continued to share my life with Bob for the past 23 months he’s been absent from my life.

I am not interested in dating: not even the tiniest bit interested.

But, if Elohim has other plans for my life … He will clue me in, and I will discuss that new spur off the main road of my life, with Him – and with my husband.

Without guilt.

Without pressure from strangers. 

Without anyone else’s opinions.

And with all his original male {junk} intact: not surgically ‘gender’ manipulated. If Elohim has a man waiting in the wings for me, he will be a man from start to finish … not a freaky sideshow manifestation.

Walking on the wild side of life doesn’t interest me.

Two Novembers ago, in a different lifetime, Bob told me to live.

How I choose to live, is my business; the world does not get to guilt me into doing what they think I should do (according to their time schedule), to feel complete.

I AM ‘complete’ at this phase of my unfolding life.

I am enough.

{{The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love; He will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)}}

I AM SO GLAD! 

Thank You Yeshua, El Gibbor (Mighty One).