There is this popular notion at particular moments of our lives in which we describe a very active intent on “getting back to…”
Currently I am in the midst of it. Let me explain. I had a baby five weeks ago. As #woke as I can be, there is this whispering voice in the back of my mind that asks me when I will get back to my old body, when will I go back to wearing my pre pregnancy clothes…
This voice is particularly loud in the evenings, when I am bloated #becauselife and #hormones and all of that. This voice is particularly screechy every single morning when I am attempting to get dressed beyond the sweatpants and nothing fits properly…
It is exhausting to shut it… and possible, if only it weren’t the only “going back” voice echoing…
In my practice and with clients that have been in a relationship for a long time, and particularly those who have young children, I get this question constantly: “How do I get back to…” fill in the blank with “my old libido”, “my partner’s old libido” “the great sex life we had”, “the sense of adventure…” “wanting to actually have sex instead of watch Netflix”.
There is this intent, this desire of getting back, of going back to something that was and no longer is, to a part of ourselves that existed that is no longer around, or, rather, that has metamorphosed into something else.
As humans we have this lens with which we view the past that tints everything in a particular shade of nostalgia. That sex, the one we used to have before I was pregnant, that sex was so good… and now, now it’s so hard to get there. That sex, the one we had when we were traveling, that was incredible, and now, now it’s boring. The sex we had, constantly, felt so effortless and natural, and now… now it’s awkward. The sex we had when we were dating, oh, that was another level… now, I try to avoid it.
Yes, that sex was incredible. Yes, I understand your libido was dynamite with lots of caffeine topped with fudge and a cherry on top. I totally get the desire to get that back. I’m sorry to break it to you: it’s just not going to happen. It’s impossible.
I just had my third baby and my body, oh that body of mine that made three tiny humans which have taught me the power that I hold inside, the strength and the uttermost love I am capable of, oh that body of mine that is so miraculous… except when getting dressed… oh that body.
Yes, that body may get thinner at one point, it may get stronger, it will certainly get older #becausetime; but it will never ever go back to what it was before I made life inside me. It’s impossible. I have gone through such an incredible ordeal, such a transformation to my core, which is reflected in the mirror that is my body. How can I expect everything to go back to the time when the shell was selfish in its own life and it had never given itself up to anything or anyone? #impossible.
It won’t go back. I don’t expect it to. I need to shift my expectations and my vision to match the reality I see in the mirror and in my constructive gaze.
Same thing goes for our sex lives. No, your sex life won’t go back to how it was pre-kids because, well, you have kids now! (And as a follow up, when was the last time you had very loud sex?). So no, it won’t go back to how it was when you guys just met, because life has happened!
We think of sex as this stagnant thing in our lives that should remain the same, that should be stable in it’s flow. We don’t realize that everything that happens in our lives affects our sex lives; Same way that our sex affects everything else.
So no, don’t expect to go back to anything your nostalgia tinted lens is drawing for you.
Let’s try something else instead: try to find a different way, a different flavor, a different desire and caress. You need to seek a particular way of doing things. You can’t go back, but you can find a different way of going forward.