In the second of the series of blogs about being sexy, spiritual or spiritually sexy, I am reminded that not every experience we consider negative is indeed just that.

Tonight my ex-husband, well, my fourth ex-husband, popped by to give my kids belated Chanukah presents.  It was a nice gesture and very much appreciated by my son at least, who adored his gift of an erector set in a bright orange case.  My daughter was more apathetic and honestly, I didn’t know how I felt.

Staring at my ex smiling awkwardly in the front hallway, my mind wandered:  was I ever sexually attracted to him?  If you’ve ever found yourself wondering the same thing it begs the question, why do we do it?  Why do we commit hopefully to a potential eternity with the same sexual partner?

For most of us, the answer has to do with our earliest caretaker memories (see Imago therapy).  For me, issues of being sexual and committed were framed by a withholding dad who didn’t want anything to do with my mom, and a lesbian mom who came out shortly after attempting suicide.  That this history should coincide with my emerging womanhood means it’s a small miracle that I am as relatively normal as I like to think I am.

But whether you’ve had as torrid an upbringing as I, or experienced something less Hallmark movie-of-the-week-esque, it’s a safe bet to say any woman comfortable in her sexual prime has done a lot of work to get there.  

My last failed marriage ended two years ago. If I had continued on the course I was on I don’t think I would have had the awakening that I have been experiencing since then.  In other words, it took a potentially shaming experience to keep me on my spiritual journey.  After all, how can anyone who isn’t Elizabeth Taylor or Zsa Zsa Gabor be married four times?  How could I, someone who prides herself on being pretty with it, be so wrong so often on such a big decision?  Sure I’ve had to come to terms with a lot in the ensuing twenty-four months, but I’ve never felt more open and willing to look at myself and how I’ve co-created these situations.  And for me, that’s real progress.

So as my scarcity inspired ex stood in the incense infused front entryway I recognized my no longer being sexually attracted to him meant I had also come to terms with the all important “why” I had been in the first place.

I married him because he was safe - because he reminded me of my father who was smart and distant - because sex was predictable and that led me back to feeling safe again - because a nice Jewish girl should marry a nice Jewish Orthodontist.

As I hugged him goodbye I felt his narrow shoulders tense slightly underneath his new leather jacket.  Ah yes, he is the same - still slightly awkward, withholding and rigid but I’m not.  I am free, happy and open and in part, I have him to thank.

Had I not had the good sense to acquiesce when he surprised me with the decision to divorce, I may never have begun the last leg of my search-for-what-really-makes-me-happy.

And you know what?  I am a lot closer to knowing what that is. I even have a small stash of C batteries and a honey who is happy to help me figure out which toy to install them in.  Now that’s growth!  

[Cartoon from: www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com]