Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

Sex in my forties is totally different from at any other time in my life and guess what . . . it’s better. There are several reasons for this, and some changes have blessedly fallen upon me with age and time. Some I’m convinced came from the grace of God. Others were because I finally traveled over baggage that had blocked me as I journeyed along my sexuality. For me, the baggage was the biggest boulder to conquer.

When I was in my thirties, turning 40 sounded dang scary to me, but once I became 40, I found that I suddenly didn’t care as much what others thought of me (which is true bliss by the way). By 40, I was finally OK with wanting what I wanted, and I didn’t care what others thought about what I wanted. It was a gorgeous revelation! I was less inhibited, life was more about me and what I wanted, so even sex became easier.

I felt less trapped by my life with regards to intimacy. It didn’t have to compete, as much, with what kids needed moment to moment because they could get their own snacks, reach their own cups, solve more of their own problems. I wanted my life to be more about time with my husband; I wanted to want more sex, but I still felt lacking. So, I prayed for God to grant the desire to me. One day, in my forties, it fell on me like a miraculous wall, one that has persevered, a wonderful wall that has brought me much joy and intimacy with my spouse because it has helped me separate my baggage from my heart.

Life in my forties has also meant for me that I had now lived long enough and matured enough to ditch pains from hurtful memories that stained and held back my sexuality. Somehow, I outgrew them, healed from them. Horrible things like almost being gang-raped by three drunk teen boys when I was 16, only blessedly saved because an older brother of one of the boys walked into the room. Getting over their comments, their crude “we almost” exclamations as I had walked past them in the high school hall, my eyes down, trying and failing to hide my body that was helplessly open, a feast for their gazes.

It’s hard for a young woman to fit that into her sexuality and not let it color relations with her husband. It really had nowhere good to go. It just sat as a fat sick lump in my gut, rearing its putrid head at the worst possible times when I couldn’t keep it strapped down in a box deep, way down in the unspeakable parts of me. An almost is nowhere near the absolute horrors of an actual, but that almost rape left me with scars that would rip open at times, the memory would gnash its teeth at me leaving my sexuality deformed, deflated, just gone.

Another pitfall I often fell into was the memory of when at 14, I was almost used by a family member as fresh meat, a barter, a meal ticket to get him passage backstage to the private lair of an 80s rock band, where I most likely would have been molested, so all the torrid rumors went about such things.

The lustful eyes from boys when I was a teen, leering looks along with words I don’t want to repeat, the dirty comments from drunks in college bars, the pinches, grabs as I worked as a young girl in a mob-owned bar with older men staring at me like I was the lunch. Dessert. The entertainment.

Just baggage. And mountains of it.

Trekking along my journey to sexual health in mid-life, I had to smooth over all these nasty memories from my past that lay hidden as traps in the grassy lawn of my intimacy. I would be walking along the tall greens, enjoying moments of my sensuality when I’d suddenly step in a hole. I knew the traps were there littered about, the memories always there to haunt me, permanent scars lurking beneath the tall wavy wispy greens. I didn’t always know when I’d fall into one and which painful memory it would be. Memories would grab me like an anaconda and pull me to the ground, tumble me out of wanting to be sexy and playful as it dragged me into the hole.

How does a young woman fit these experiences into intimacy with her husband? I couldn’t smooth those rough spots into my sexual self. I struggled to fit all of this crap into my sexuality for literally years; with time, I’ve come to heal, and with the help of God, things are good now and I feel blessed. Finally, I can let these memories bubble up to the top and boil off into the sky.

But, back in my thirties, there was also the coercive duality of just being a woman, with three pregnancies, births, and a miscarriage all impacting my sexuality. My body that had been a glory sexually at the beginning of my marriage was then used to make and nourish babies. My breasts that were once part of my sexuality fed each of my babies. I nursed them with the beautiful God-given ability to provide them with milk, then those same breasts were supposed to fall back and be a part of sexual intimacy again as if the other never happened. I was unsure how I was supposed to feel as I grew and birthed babies out of the very same home that housed my sexual pleasure.

Talk about body image confusion.

I certainly had a hard time with the flip-flop of being a woman, a mom, a  woman, back and forth again, and on repeat. I somehow lost the woman I was for a while when I was in my thirties with babies, nursing, childcare, housework, work, life. I became more mom than wife. Now, in my forties, I’m learning and reclaiming some of the woman back, and it’s pure ecstasy.

When my husband and I were a young married childless couple, sex was easy because any time of day that we were home worked. There weren’t babies to feed, butts to wipe, meals to be made, baths to give. The simple grace of time is a giant factor in being able to achieve some intimacy as a married couple and with young kids who need help with most everything, we didn’t have much time left for ourselves.

Granted we are still busy with our boys being older with homework to help with, soccer and football practice to drive to, not to mention the ever-busy chaos of three boys’ social lives to keep up with, Mom-Uber service here, yours truly. However, now that my boys are all older, they can do a lot for themselves, so my husband and I have more time together for intimate moments. It’s just easier.

Sexuality is complex, and ever-changing, at least for me it has been, but there is hope, and a future, and healing. There is the next chapter, the continuation of story, a beautiful gem hidden in all the grimy rubble, the bad memories, the crud. It might just take a while to dig a way to that shiny glory again, but it’s there, it’s always there somewhere. I didn’t give up and I’m so thankful I weathered the whole journey of it all because I’ve found the best of my sex life isn’t over, it’s only just begun.

You may also like:

The Key to a Thriving Marriage Isn’t Sex—It’s Intimacy

Dear Husband, If You Want More Sex, Here’s What To Do

Yes, I’m the Woman and I Want More Sex

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Julie Hoag

Julie Hoag is a freelance writer and blogger, wife, and mom to three busy boys, & fur mama to two rescue dogs and two guinea pigs. She writes on her blog about motherhood, kids, family, recipes, DIY, travel, and faith. She is a vegetarian who loves to cook and create recipes when she’s not driving her three boys all over town to sports practices in her crumb-filled minivan. In her past life she has worked as a Scientist and Medical Data Manager, a pediatric nurse, and a SAHM. She loves to volunteer in her kids’ schools and help fundraise money for their schools. She is a Christian who loves nature, animals, traveling, gardening, swimming in her pool, and simply spending time with her family. Her favorites are dark chocolate, red wine, and cheese with yummy bread. http://www.juliehoagwriter.com/

To the Mom Going through a Divorce

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman holding young girl outside, blurred background

To the mom going through a divorce: you can do this. I’ve been where you are, staring at a mountain of changes and challenges that felt insurmountable. The crushing ache of divorce, of family disruption, of building a new life, and helping my son through it all seemed endless and impossible. But eventually, I made it through to the other side, and I want you to know: the pain won’t last forever.  The first year following a divorce is an overwhelming puzzle of putting your life back together. And when there are kids involved, there is so much more to...

Keep Reading

Let Us Grow Old Together

In: Marriage
Couple kissing in kitchen

Dear husband, May our love grow in millions of ways, but may it never grow old. This life we’re living is fast, fierce, and full of beautiful memories in the making. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I realized that one day, probably before we know it, we will have grown a whole legacy of love together. See, I was at a first birthday party this weekend, and it was everything you would imagine it would be—family mingling, children playing, sounds of laughter, an abundance food. RELATED: At the End of Your Life, This is What Will Matter to...

Keep Reading

Let’s Stop the Negative Talk about Marriage

In: Faith, Marriage
Square, wooden arch with floral and fabric in field, color photo

Growing up, I remember hearing many negative phrases used about marriage—on TV, by distant relatives, anywhere, really.  “The old ball and chain.” “All my wife does is nag.” “You’re happy in your marriage? You must still be in the honeymoon phase.” These are just a few examples of the many things I have heard for years that create a negative connotation around marriage. I never really thought much of it until I fell in love and got engaged to the man of my dreams. Can you guess what happened next? “Just wait . . .” I heard entirely too many...

Keep Reading

You Will Survive the Starting Over

In: Living, Marriage
Woman walking with two kids on beach

It might be uncomfortable. It might be awkward. You might have to tell your 3-year-old that you won’t be living with her dad anymore. You might scream, cry, and curse—quietly, so she can’t hear you through the thin apartment walls. You might have to buy secondhand furniture and be okay with the fact that nothing matches. You might have to bury your pride and call your friends to help pick up your child when you need an extra hand. RELATED: Overwhelm Isn’t Just a Season For a Single Mom You might lose friends when your brain is at max capacity...

Keep Reading

Dear New Mom, Give Your Marriage Some Grace

In: Marriage, Motherhood
Family of 3 with baby on bed

He cried when our daughter was born. Twice. I clearly remember his choked voice when he kissed me and thanked me for bringing our baby girl into the world. But by the time we got home, the diaper was on the rose. The baby was crying. His wife (me) was constipated. And the house took on a perfume of spoiled milk. Pre-baby and post-baby, people talked about engorged nipples. Moms and dads rant about sleepless nights and diaper explosions. There are books written about baby weight, burping, and tummy time. But no one talks about the fighting. And we fought....

Keep Reading

Co-parenting Is about the Kids, Not Your Feelings after Divorce

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Girl holding parents' hand

This is likely to step on a few toes, but is something that absolutely needs to be addressed: co-parenting and blended families. When people think of co-parenting, many things come to mind—good and bad, of course. The fact is some relationships between co-parents can be amazing, and some can be an absolute nightmare. You know what? That does not matter. Co-parenting is about coming together in every possible way to make things right for your children. The children did not decide their parents were going to get divorced. The children don’t have a say in how they feel about things....

Keep Reading

The Beautiful Ugliness of Marriage

In: Marriage
Couple standing holding hands by water

I never realized how beautiful and ugly marriage can be at the same time. Interwoven so tightly together and made known to us, these moments were what we agreed to when we made our vows to each other so many years ago. The beautiful and the ugly—for better and for worse. Ugly. It’s a strong word to use. But when we’re experiencing these moments, it feels that way, doesn’t it? Just ugly. The ugly moments when we fight and utter words to each other we would never utter to anyone else within earshot. The ugly moments when we argue in...

Keep Reading

As An Adult, Navigating Your Parents’ Divorce Is Complicated

In: Grown Children, Marriage
Older couple sitting apart unhappy on couch

“Gray divorce” is a term that refers to divorce in couples over 50 years old. There are plenty of reasons why people decide to get divorced—in some cases, after decades of marriage. Many couples at this phase of their life are experiencing empty nests for the first time and are finding that once their kids have left the home, their relationship is not where they hoped it would be. No matter what the reasons may be, the reality is a lot of adults with families of their own are navigating their parents’ divorce. I am one of those adults facing...

Keep Reading

We Need Valentine’s Day Because February Sucks

In: Living, Marriage
Annoyed woman holding heart

I figured out why some human in the past created Valentine’s Day in the middle of February. Because, like my plant, we’re all just barely hanging on. We’re alive, but we are having to let go of some pieces of ourselves in order to say we are even “okay” or “fine,” the two most dangerous words in a woman’s vocabulary for men. Spring is coming, but it’s too far away; the cold and dreary days are taking a toll. RELATED: What Is Hygge and Why You Need It This Winter Commitments are overwhelming and exhausting, but we are already starting...

Keep Reading

I Am in Love with Two Men

In: Grief, Marriage
Two men in the back of a van, color photo

I am in love with two men.  It started years ago. My marriage of 11 years, which led to four sons, was wonderful and comfortable and safe. I had trained myself to never look twice at another man out of respect for my husband Aaron. I enjoyed being married to the right man. And yet here I was, thinking about another man. A man named Jason, who happened to be friends with my husband. I knew Jason was a man of integrity, kindness, and faith. It had been a long time since any man had noticed me, and though I...

Keep Reading