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One winter night to help me ease my pain, I wrote a poem about the type of love I wanted. It was the first time in years I had felt hope that I could find it. It was the night I finally let him go. I had finally had the courage to go online and look at his friends’ pictures and see him with his girlfriend. They seemed very happy together. I was the outsider, and I had been the outsider for two years. He shut me out and never let me back in. He went on with his life. And I was stuck mourning the past, unable to move on.
This one particular night, I accepted that he was with her, even though I had been seeing them together in my dreams for a solid year. I had known he was with her, but I never wanted to face the truth. I cried. We had never had a chance to build anything together. Everything burnt to the ground as quickly as we got together. For two years, I had been living in an empty castle of broken dreams and regret.
Without thinking about what I was going to write, I picked up a pen and a pad of paper and the words just poured out. It was all stream of consciousness. I didn’t even re-read it. I wrote it and stashed it away. I found it recently, and I read it. And I cried because I remembered how healing it felt to write about another man, another type of love from what I had experienced. I wrote this poem about my vision of true love. I remembered how what I wrote that night helped me move on from a love so deep, painful, and transformative that it almost destroyed me.*
Shred my soul
I will love again
Make me feel the light
Be the sun that shines upon my skin
You free me
You heal the broken pieces
I feel you
I love you
under my touch
my name under your breath
You break apart my fear
The moon shimmers on us
Pierce my heart
I feel you in my veins
Let my kiss heal you
The light illuminates the dark
The heat melts the ice
I want to love you
Make the rain wash away the hurt
Tear me apart so I can feel you
Stars fall upon us as our lips touch
Let the ruin bind us
Your love surrounds me
My body shivers when you grasp me
The sunset burns our skin
Say my name in the dark
My heart beats under you
Taste my sweat
Feel my body rise and fall
Touch me in ways you’ve never touched before
I see the light in your soul and the scars on your heart
What happens when we meet our perfect match, the love of our lives, the man or woman who we believe to be our Twin Flame, and it all goes bad? How does it affect our sexuality, lust, and desires? It kills it. During a Twin Flame separation, the sexual fire fades to darkness. We become shells of ourselves, emotionally, mentally, and sexually. We lose ourselves.
Our sexual identity is shredded. There is nothing left. The thought of sex doesn’t appeal to us. We hope that our twins will come back to us. Only then can we fully express ourselves sexually again. Sex with our twins feels safe. It feels like home. But then that gets all pulled out from underneath us, and we’re sexually abandoned. We become frigid.
During my Twin Flame journey, it became a shameful secret I held within me: I didn’t want to have sex with anybody else. I didn’t want to kiss anybody else. I didn’t want to date anybody else. And so I didn’t. I felt so ashamed. I was a sexual widow. I had always considered myself a sexual person, but once I lost him, my veins turned to ice. I would touch my body to give myself pleasure, but the connection to him was so strong that it felt as if my body no longer belonged to me. I missed him so much that I would fall into a heap, crying trying to release the pain, but I never could. I could have cried a thousand tears, and it still wouldn’t have helped. Nothing did.
Men were attracted to me, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I did my best to hide from them. People would ask me if I was dating anybody, and I would say no and quickly change the subject. Nobody had any clue what I was going through. The sexual goddess within me had disappeared, and it was devastating. I blamed myself that I couldn’t just let him go. I beat myself up, because I couldn’t even date another man. I hated myself. I thought there was something wrong with me for not being able to move on. I didn’t even find men attractive anymore. Nobody compared to my twin. He was a god in my eyes. How could I ever be with another man when I was in love with a god?
These connections are all-encompassing, as they are meant to be. Because of this: We tend to see our twins as enigmatic, mystical beings. They regularly appear in our dreams, and we think about them all the time. But we never see them as who they are; we only see them as we think they are. Looking at pictures of my twin, he transformed into some magical man. He didn’t seem real. I saw him as a king, my king. And I was his queen. So how could the queen be with somebody other than the king? Why settle for a knight or a prince, when you have a king? She couldn’t. Why would she? Instead, she became a lady in waiting. Waiting and waiting for her king to come back to her, and then they would make sweet, passionate love. The queen could wait! It was worth it.
The longer I waited, the more depressed I became. I closed off my heart. My emotions felt shriveled. I didn’t want to open myself up to anybody. I wasn’t sexual, and I didn’t even care anymore. It was my dirty little secret. Nobody had to know how long it had been since I had been intimate. They didn’t have to know the last person I kissed was him. Nobody would ever find out. I would carry that with me. I could still do my make-up and wear sexy clothing. Nobody would ever know that I was living in a sexual desert. I lost that part of myself, but I didn’t know how to get it back. And honestly, because I was suffering from depression and anxiety, my sex life was on the bottom of my list of priorities.
I was lucky to get out of bed to go to work. I was barely functioning. The winter was one big blur of cold, miserable weather and my depression and anxiety. I was disintegrating, coming apart at the seams. I was on a downward spiral. I had tried so hard to get through it all, but it wasn’t enough. I was defeated. The connection was more powerful than me.
I went to see my healer, Maura, for a Reiki session. She asked me “What do you need help with?” And I said “I feel so blocked. I just want to feel some kind of emotion again and feel sexual again.” During the consultation before the healing, she asked me “When was your last relationship?” And I broke down. Spirit was guiding her. I wasn’t even going to bring him up. I didn’t want to make this healing session about him. I wanted to focus on my own healing. And my healing had nothing to do with him. But Maura was being guided to ask me questions about him, because that was the root of my misery.
It was destroying me. The Universe had been teaching me a hard lesson about enmeshment. I loved him so much that I had lost myself, and when we separated, I had put all the blame on myself. I beat myself up for the things in the situation I had no control over. I had felt like a failure, and I had been carrying around that guilt with me for two years.
There had been a part of me that had felt so badly about the way it played out with my twin, that I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. I didn’t deserve to feel pleasure, sexual or otherwise. And because of that, buy Lyrica in mexico had become blocked. I had closed off my sexual self, but also I had disconnected from the Divine feminine energy within myself. I didn’t feel like a goddess. I didn’t feel sensual. I didn’t feel anything. After the Reiki session, Maura gave me the message that my Divine feminine self was being shown to her as a baby lamb. She told me to cultivate it and be gentle with myself. The inner goddess was a baby lamb. It needed time to grow. Nothing had to be rushed. I had experienced a rebirth. I needed to have patience and compassion for myself.
Your sexual side never has to die completely. If you want it back, you can always work on bringing it back. But it doesn’t just happen overnight. It is a process. One that must not be hurried. You do not need to jump into the bed with the first man/woman you meet. It takes time to heal. Have patience with yourself and don’t try to force anything if you’re not ready. Think of it as entering a dark house and turning on all the lights one by one. Piece by piece, you put yourself back together again and the part that was once lost, you find.