It’s not that I don’t want to be a powerful, fire-breathing, sexy earth goddess, it’s that I don’t know how

When my therapist asked me when I feel sexy, I shrank into the crack in the back of her couch with just my eyebrows poking out above the seat cushions. I would have preferred a more sophisticated reaction, but even at forty years old, the topic of sexiness makes me squirm.

I had arrived at her office with an ‘assignment’ from my husband; he wanted her to help me be bolder and more proactive in bed. I gave her the request off-handedly, hoping she’d dismiss it as the idle musing of men so that when I got home, I could…


Is your wife a miserable harpy? Is she just never satisfied with you or her life? Does her glum attitude infect the whole family? Does she speak only in frets and twitch a little all the time? Does she laugh maniacally when you ask her to touch your dong? Does she seem totally unable to have fun or to relax, when you distinctly remember her once being a fun-loving, sexy, joyful human?

Then your family might have a case of Patriarchy Pox, a pervasive and pernicious illness that effects millions every year, throughout history, always, goddammit.

I’m listening to Glennon…


Ok, I’m going to talk about sex in a second, but let me warm up first. (Insert foreplay joke…insert joke about INSERTING foreplay joke…OK, I think I’m done). I’ve been getting acupuncture for a few months for back and shoulder pain, stress, and self-love. The sessions include massage and cupping. About half the time while I’m lying there, I’m near tears. Well, I sleep through a good twenty minutes of each appointment, waking up all drooly and mad that I missed it, so maybe not half, but my point is, it’s a really emotional experience, being touched and healed like…


Shame resilience (Dr. Brené Brown) is something I think about constantly. To paraphrase, it’s the ability to override that negative shit-nugget voice in your head and DO THE THINGS ANYWAY. Self-loathing, doubt, and judgement are constant nags for many of us. This voice feels SO real and true and familiar, but it’s only chanting hot pain into our skulls. …


Ok, this post is giving me the honesty sweats, so I know I have to share it.

It’s recently dawned on me that my husband loves me just for existing, that I can cost instead of just pay, and that it’s OK that I want to write. Whew. It’s been a busy emotional few weeks.

I’ve been married to and loved on by this man for over twenty years. I’ve been writing for at least a dozen. Neither of these things are new, I just hadn’t been able to accept them…(me). I struggle with believing that I am lovable and…


I get so mad at myself when I’m sick. If I’m working for a paycheck and I’m sick, I’m mad that I have to make the decision to either call in and let everyone down and potentially look bad, or go in and potentially spread my sick to everyone there. Even worse if my kids are sick and I have to stay home with them like a sucker/parent. Where’s my drive? Where’s my hunger? …


“Mom, don’t say gal.”

We watched “Inside Out” (2015) again recently. It’s one of my favorite Pixar films, not least because it’s basically an animated Leslie Knope inside a cool little girl’s brain. This time, I noticed all of the ways the family in the film is like mine. They’re also moving from some M-state in the middle of the country to the Pacific ocean for some important techy job for the husband. They also have to sleep on the floor for a week while waiting for their moving company to arrive with their furniture, and they also have a…


EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING, but It’s Fine

The fun thing about having a respiratory infection (confirmed not COVID, just rando other funky lung bug), when you and your pelvic floor are 190 years-old, is you’re always cough-zing, which is coughing and whizzing in your pants.

I’m usually pretty continent (high-fives all around), but when I’m staying super hydrated in order to flush this unholy mess out, and I have these spontaneous full-body coughing possessions, my underwear has…regrets.

This morning was especially fun, when the gentle drip of water-snot coming from my Neti Pot, coupled with the hacking and the…


Warning: so much first-world complaining here, like, a LOT.

“You can’t come into my place of work and rage pound your head against the door!” said my husband to me, from his desk, in our daughter’s bedroom. This is his place of work. In pandemic world.

The pounding was about my daughter saying she was absolutely NOT doing distance learning school today, no matter what, and that I’m a mean and terrible mom for trying to make her. It was 8:16 a.m.

I’ve just woken from a two-day respiratory fever blur, and realized her suitcase is still laying in the…


It’s been a long year…don’t drop the ball on this one

The mother of your children deserves something really extraordinary this Mother’s Day. Something that says, “Honey, I know in the past fourteen months you’ve lost your job, your sense of self, and your sanity, in the name of caring for our children, but you should know that we appreciate you…today.”

For the mom who has everything, consider:

A Throw Pillow: Show her she’s your special lady by getting her a decorative pillow! Throw pillows are a wonderful way to add flair to any room. They can also be used to chuck at whiny children and to bury her head in…

Sarah Z Writer

Frank and funny, Sarah writes the hard stuff of marriage, parenting, woman-ing. Ravishly, The Belladonna Comedy, Pregnant Chicken, & more. Twitter: @sarahzimzam

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