Sunday, April 1, 2018

As the months passed, I started looking forward to it



Sex begat more sex, and those connected, loved up feelings began to creep outside of the bedroom — or in our case, the laundry room, the closet and our garage — and into our everyday lives. 

We were more romantic with each other, touching arms as we passed, kissing longer before work and not just the cold familiar peck. Our relationship was stronger and better when our intimacy was flourishing.



On a personal level, the changes in the way I saw my body were staggering. Three months in, I found myself enjoying sex again, making a playlist of songs that turned me on and was no longer hyper-aware of the sounds my curvy body was making. Like the way my thighs clapped together or my tummy smacked his.



Six months in, I took off the cami I'd hidden my body inside of, not caring that my boobs plopped off into my armpits. For the first time, I was more concerned with every part of sex that felt good than finding a flattering angle to hide my stomach or back fat. My body was being enjoyed by the both of us, equally.


A year in, I stopped wearing clothes entirely. At least, I assume that is what my kids would say. I stopped that primal run from the shower, and now lazily walked to the closet naked. 

I made school lunches in my underwear, and didn't reflexively pull away when Andy came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. My relationship with my husband, and my body, had changed in amazing ways.


https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a40163/sex-with-my-husband-every-day-for-a-year/

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