I want to talk to you about passionate love, my dear daughter…
As you grow, many boys will enter your years. They will speak words of passionate love, of wanting you–all of you.
Their love will be lacking.
Believe me, dear girl, I know what passionate love is made of. Until the boy can assure you of the following, it is not true passion.
It’s passionate love, if he can:
- Patiently wait for over three years. From pregnant to nursing to pregnant to nursing, with your hormones fierce, and desire often dead. “Please, just let me sleep. I am so tired.” will be your common response. Until he can love you still, choose you still, it is not true passion.
- Call you beautiful when even your feet are swollen from baby belly. Call you sexy when your legs run thick with varicose veins from the same. Call you perfect after your belly hangs loose with skin and your eyes deep with bags. Until he can still call you these things, it is not true passion.
- Love you even deeper, piercing through the pain into your heart, even after you may have thrown things at him, yelled words of hate and shame as you feel the hormones of post baby blues run deep.
- Come home to you–you with no makeup–and express there is nothing as beautiful as seeing your face.
- Laugh, fully laugh about a crying baby and a feverish toddler who just joined you in bed.
Can a man like this exist? Yes, dear girl, and you call him your dad. He has shown me what true love is.
The hormones have faded. I am not pregnant. I am not nursing. My own passion has returned. Can I truly say “returned?” I really had no idea what passion was. So intense, so raw, I cannot put it fully into words.