“Do you wanna shave me?” my spouse asked.
“Yes,” I said.
I had been saying no for a few days– felt good to agree. My spouse handed me the electric shaver. They grabbed my breasts and started to jiggle them, as I shaved their chin.
“Be gentle, and get off the nipple,” I said.
It’s period time, and my breasts are sore and sad. My spouse moved off the nipple and jiggled my breasts more slowly.
They often just slow down when I ask for gentleness or less pressure, which is cute. I’m giggling to think of how they use language, both giving and receiving– the kindness of their intentions like orange sugar layered over the mistakes.
traditions
I wrote in spring about the tradition of my spouse kissing my cunt every day as I dry off after a shower.
“It’s my favorite part of the day,” my spouse says.
These days they don’t make an obnoxious kissing sound like Miss Piggy, thank goodness. But I need these daily traditions to keep my life together. We gratitude journal and desire journal. They brush my legs every day too, which I pretend is Jaguar Kitten licking me for my lymph health. Then there’s the shave.
Previously we used to have sex every day. At the beginning of our relationship, two and three times a day with so much kink it was mind-altering. I want to say it was not sustainable, but we sustained it for more than a year.
That’s the most weight I ever lost in my life because I wasn’t eating much. I was living on impact, reenactment of trauma, and dick. What a bonding experience that was, going to those intense places together for hours, that often. Liminal, often creepy, with ecstatic threads woven in. I feel extraordinarily fortunate we lived like that. It changed me.
Years later we had a date every day after lunch. We were in the desert in community and had sex so quietly. Trying to ignore the conversations of community members in the courtyard, I’d cum with the tiniest audible whimper, when my body was roaring.
love
We started this tradition because my spouse told me they hated shaving, but they need to shave for their sensory needs. So I offered to help, and they could help me by holding my breasts. Yes, for a moment, please carry my burdens. The idea was to make shaving less of a chore.
But when my spouse asks, “Will you shave me?” the joy is healing. I feel loved because they want me. This is a finite, reliable way I’m invited in. The daily is so comforting to this traumatized Nest who longs for safety and home. The rhythms keep me alive.
Also I love how I’m free to say no. The invitation is sweet, and that I can easily refuse means I only do it when I want to. It only takes a minute, but my arm and shoulder muscles are in pain a lot and lack endurance.
Sometimes my mind doesn’t want the task of shaving which involves evaluating. “Did I do this well enough?” is a stressor that some days I need to minimize recreationally because in regular life, I’m forced to evaluate.
questions for discussion
What rhythms and patterns knit your life together?
Do you shave? Do you like it?
How is your pain lately?
Are there any traditions you could add to your close relationships for more stability and safe feelings?
What chore would you like caring help with?
How do you invite loved ones in?
