It’s Not Meant To Be Perfect

by OneTaste Australia  Aug 29, 2014


I have a friend who’s been going through a hard time with her boyfriend recently. When I text her to check in yesterday, she replied that she goes from wanting to work things out to hating his guts and never wanting to see him again.

All I could think was how normal that is and how much I relate to it. Relationships are hard! In my own relationship, I find myself often vacillating between wanting to break up and the next minute wanting to tell him that I love him more than anyone else in the world.

The fact that I stay in between those two poles is a testament to our love for each other. Because when I don’t care as deeply as I do, I swing towards the break up side fairly easily and soon into the affair.

I am a go-getter type woman, and there is a strong program in me that wants someone who can “run as fast as me.” Honestly, I’ve never met a man who is as driven as I am. I have a deep ever-present hunger inside. What I do have though is a man who loves me no matter what.

He continuously pours love in my direction, providing a solid and constant foundation as I propel forward, out here on the edge.

So much so that every time I have gotten fed up and tried to tell my close friends that I’ve had enough, they've actively encouraged me to stay with him. They know what’s best for me even more that even I do.

Every time I pass through one of these phases, it feels like I come out the other side even more surrendered to him.

One particular morning, I sat at the end of the bed. He had been trying to touch me since we woke up and I was not having any of it. I had to remove my physical body from his grasp. “I’m frustrated,” I said. And like a petulant teenager I began to explain all the details of exactly how he hadn’t given me what I wanted. He responded calmly. He didn’t give into me, but he didn’t pull away either.

We got to the point where I’d said everything that was locked up inside. I felt myself soften. There was no resentment left in my body. That’s the beauty of being vulnerable enough to tell someone when they’ve pissed you off; you don’t have to hold onto it and let it fester.

At this point I’ve gotten so used to that level of honesty, that I find myself blurting it out when I get upset, no matter who I’m speaking to. Sometimes to my detriment, in a world where that violates the social code.

I normally have to be extremely cautious in preparing someone to hear what I’m about to say; calibrate it to their level of hearing. Except in this case, I didn’t do that, and to my surprise when I was done speaking, he thanked me. And then he pulled me back into him.

My chest felt clear and open, in between my legs heavy and buzzing. I was lying on top of him and we started making out. I rolled over him so I was lying on my back. He lay on his side next to me, staring at me intently, and then he penetrated me slowly. I felt myself totally let go.

I could only see the half of his face that wasn’t squished into the pillow. He looked rough and handsome, like a wild man from an action movie. We fucked until I came and then stopped at the natural peak.

For the next few hours I found myself in a pocket of gratitude for him and for life. I was giddy and playful.

Later that night I got annoyed with him again, this time because of something he'd said when we were out in public with my friends.

One of the laws of orgasm is that you have to embrace ambiguity. I have heard Buddhists refer to this as finding peace with paradox.

Relationship is a catalyst for growth. It’s the hardest arena to play in, so it challenges you to become your best self.

Rather than hoping for things to be perfect, my hope is that I can stay in it even in the midst of excruciating emotional discomfort, like jealousy or rage.

I define a good relationship as one where all of our shit comes up; we really get to know our patterns, and see the programs we've been unconsciously running.

And, to stay connected and turn all of that shit into self-knowledge, that is the true alchemy of awakening.