I know the exact moment it happened.

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Photo by Daria Litvinova on Unsplash

I know the exact moment it happened.

We were in bed together, so connected and in flow, and then suddenly something felt off. I felt him go into his head — I knew he was thinking about his erection. I could feel it happening.

Instead of naming it, I kept going.

This seemingly small disconnection is in reality, huge.

I was surprised, and not surprised, in the next moment when I watched him reposition himself to move on top of me to penetrate.

We went from slow connected hot sexy flow to awkward and goal-oriented.


The presence of desire points to possibility

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Photo by @rw.studios on Unsplash

I love desire.

I love the desire itself, not only the manifestation of that desire. They are two very different beings.

Our desires lead us to the next iteration of ourselves. There is a deeper wisdom living inside us that guides us towards becoming the person we are meant to be, towards what is possible for ourselves in this life.

When I wanted to own my own business, I naturally learned about organizing, sales and authenticity. When I wanted a romantic partner I naturally learned about communicating, being vulnerable and asking for what I need. …


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Photo by Olga Subach on Unsplash

I was teaching first period English on 9/11 when suddenly the phone rang.

It was the nurse and she asked me to tell Kaitlin Murphy to pack up and head to the office because her mom was picking her up. That seemed odd — it was so early in the morning.

I held the phone in my hand while the nurse held on, called Kaitlin’s name and said, “Pack up — your mom is here to pick you up.” It was something I did often as a sixth grade teacher.

However, what happened next was unprecedented.

The nurse said to me, “Just so you know, we will probably have a lot of parents picking up their kids today.” …


It’s not what you think

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image from tenor.com

I remember being a young teenager at summer camp and first noticing that some of the girl’s legs looked different. Turns out they were shaving their legs.

I didn’t understand why anyone would do that yet it looked alluring and very grown up. I was intrigued by the tiny little dots where the hairs used to be. That was the summer I became self conscious of my leg hair.

I don’t remember shaving my legs for the first time, but I have been shaving them ever since

Until now.

When the pandemic began, and I was quarantining alone, not dating, not having sex…


She did what we could not do ourselves. She started in motion the beginning of the end.

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Photo courtesy of The Atlantic

In 2012 my house was destroyed by Hurricane Sandy. It ripped through and flooded the bottom of my 3 story home. Made it unlivable.

We lived on the South shore of Long Island and as the storm was rolling in and upleveled to a category 3, we were told to evacuate.

Before we evacuated, we brought everything of value upstairs.

…how does one choose what is valuable?

The room downstairs and our family room was slowly falling apart. …


Freedom and Forgiveness

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Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash

“How about you come over right now and kill it?” I asked my daughter, who was a 20 minute drive from my Brooklyn apartment.

It was 10:30pm and she refused.

She also playfully suggested I eat it. Ewww.

A friend texted me, “If it’s in the corner, you can squash it with pointy shoes.”

Ewwww, not getting that close, no way!

Did you know that cockroaches are incredibly BOLD? They can live without their head for a week, have been around since the time of the dinosaurs and can be up to six inches long.

All two inches of this guy sat in the middle of the room, huge and black, moving his antenna around like he owns the place. It reminds me that I want to be THAT bold, too.


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Art by Operadaltro

People are breaking quarantine for all kinds of reasons — and sex is very high on the list. It’s tempting, believe me.

But my desire to live is bigger than my desire for dick.

I have been quarantined in my Brooklyn apartment for 13 weeks, 10 of those have been alone. I miss touch. I miss snuggling. I miss sex. I miss, I miss, I miss.

A few weeks ago, I felt a very strong desire to shack up for the weekend with a man I had been dating for a few months, but hadn’t seen since the pandemic went down. …


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My Grandma used to tell me how much time she had on her hands — too much, she would say.

She was deep in her 80’s, lived alone and looked forward to Thursdays when the whole family gathered at her home for dinner.

Back then I was teaching middle school full time, married, raising two teenagers and was CEO of a 4 bedroom house in the suburbs.

I had no idea what my Grandma was talking about.

Now, years later, my kids are in their 20’s and off living their lives — in quarantine of course, one in Brooklyn, NY, one in Athens, Greece. …


And 11 Other Solo-Quarantine Happenings

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Photo: sina.com.cn

I am not a women who chooses to have body hair all over. It’s great for women who do, but it’s not my jam. I grew up in the 80’s and I like to shave my legs. But quarantine has me growing out my leg hair for my own amusement.

I love how thick and black it is. The hairs are not linear and they grow in all different directions — they truly have a mind of their own and I find it most intriguing.

I will shave them if and when I ever have sex again. …


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Photo by Brenda Fredericks

1. Paint Mother Mary

Mary’s home is in an alcove at the top of the 2nd floor of my 3 story walk up. She was dreary and dirty, probably untouched for years. She even had a plug that was tucked into the wall and a lightbulb that, when touched, crumbled.

I really love her. Every time I climb the steps and arrive at the top of that 2nd floor, she was a reminder that I was almost home. That last flight is a very steep Brooklyn-doozy, so I always appreciated Mary’s inspiration.

With so much time on our hands, my roommate and I decided to give her a makeover. It started with unhooking her from the alcove, bathing her in the kitchen sink and then painting her together. My favorite parts are her pink lips and the ring on her right index finger (ring not pictured!).

About

Brenda Fredericks

Coach & Writer. Musings on being a woman, creator of Body Love, alchemist, mother, brendafredericks.com

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