The Faint Knock of the Goddess Calling.
{Photo credit: Katarina Silva}
I remember the day I first heard the faint knock of Goddess calling me, a muffled drumming that would grow louder over time.
It was over morning coffee with my running group, a group of stay-at-home moms that met a few times a week to run trails and share tales.
We had just finished our run and gathered around our usual table for our chat session. One of the women received a text message from her husband stating that he was coming home for lunch. She rolled her eyes, giggled, and remarked, “Oh, great! I don’t have time for that today.”
Everyone laughed and started commiserating about how often their husbands wanted to have sex — coming home for nooners, grabbing them from behind while they cooked dinner, jumping in the shower with them every chance they could get.
Knock, knock.
As I sat there listening, I pretended to laugh along with the group while inside something cracked, an uneasiness started to rise up like bile in my throat and a faint drumming sound began to throb from the core of my gut.
I instantly realized that my husband had never grabbed me while I was cooking, he never pulled me into the laundry room, and in 10 years of marriage he had never once come home for lunch.
What was even more unsettling was that I could not relate at all to their complaining. I longed for the passion and physical connection that these women seemed happy to do without.
That morning I walked away knowing only two things for certain: something was very wrong in my marriage, and that something inside me was trying to get out, to be seen, and to be heard. Both of these sent a chill of fear through my soul.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
In the two years that followed, the drumming grew louder. I did my best to ignore the tugging in my soul, telling me that things were not right despite the façade of the happy family we portrayed.
I look back know at this time as my dark night of the soul, a time of hiding the truth of a loveless, sexless marriage, a time of burying my own sexual needs, of crying myself to sleep. I longed for the emotional and spiritual intimacy that is the heart of a real marriage.
The loneliness was almost unbearable. There was no one to confide in, no one to share my dark secrets with. What woman wants to admit that she had not had sex with her husband in over 18 months? What woman has the courage to articulate aloud how much she wants and needs a physical relationship?
A good wife and mother should not have those needs, and she certainly should not discuss them. But like a volcano masking the molten lava roaring beneath its surface, Goddess would not be contained, could not be ignored any longer.
And then one day She knocked down the door and came raging out of the closet.
The discovery that my husband, and the father of my three daughters, was gay can only be accredited to the Goddess’ arrival. It was the Divine Feminine energy in me that literally dragged him kicking and screaming out of the closet.
She would not accept a loveless marriage, Her sexuality would not be denied, and Her truth would be told.
Despite all of the cultural pressure on me to stand by my man and to not break up our family, it was the strength of something primal, universal, and magical — Goddess, that led the charge and transformed life as I knew it.
After suffering in the darkness alone for so long, I finally had validation that what I had been living was in fact a lie. I was not crazy. It was not my fault. It was not because I was undesirable or unlovable. Finally, I was able to reach out to the women around me for support.
I needed to share, to cry, to be held and rocked.
But the darkness changes you. I was ripped from my perfect world and plunged into the darkness below. I no longer fit in their shiny world.
There was a residue of darkness painted on me now and it scared them all away.
The opposite was true for my husband. His new sexuality and emotional struggles were met with support and celebration. After years of enduring emotional abuse and deception, I was the one cast aside. Friends and family rallied by his side as he explored his new world.
What about my new-found sexuality, my struggle to rebuild a life that had been shattered into as many tiny pieces as his?
I was finally out of the closet. Where was my parade?
The harsh abandonment of my closest friends blindsided me. Clearly they would understand, they were women and mothers, too. Yet, no one called. No casseroles arrived on my doorstep. Schoolyard pickups became awkward with artificial smiles, and quick exchanges of pleasantries.
I searched my reflection in the classroom windows, looking for the scarlet letter I felt burning into my flesh. I did not know what was worse — the ending of my marriage or the isolation from my community.
Experiencing the reality that, in our culture, a woman’s sexuality is still something to be kept hidden, has been the catalyst for my spiritual journey.
Exploring how the Divine Feminine weaves her magic through all aspects of our lives, and that our sexual power is just one of many gifts we bring to the world, is a message for all our daughters to hear.
Honoring the Goddess within and celebrating life’s dark beauty is my wish for every woman.
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Christine Lumley is the founder of Goddess In the Closet. As a writer, facilitator, and ‘goddess liberator’, Christine is called to help women connect to their light and power.
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