Bless Her Heart

Southern living, unfit for a magazine

Untying the knot

When we get married we all say it, “until death do us part”. We tie the knot and what was once two is now one. But that is not the reality of family. 

With a husband or wife comes the in-laws, children, and friends. Our family grows as we are tied not to one person, but to many, with one string. 

But the sad reality I’m facing at middle age is I have reached the point in my life where the knots are coming untied. With every death I’m not losing one, but groups of people. With every passing one less reason for us to come together as family. 

Til death do us part. 


Asking strangers to strip for you

I see my job as para-medical. I know all the health benefits of massage and I’ve experienced  first hand what it can do for muscular injuries. I guess that’s why I sometimes forget that it’s weird to touch naked strangers. 

Here’s a couple of things you might be afraid to ask and your therapist might not tell you.  

We would prefer that you were completely naked. If you have a good therapist your “lady garden” will all stay safely hidden. If you have a bad therapist your “bait and tackle” will end up on display. If you are going without a recommendation from a friend, leave them on your first time. You’ll probably be more relaxed. And that way if you do get a therapist that failed Proper Draping 101, you won’t feel so violated and left thinking, “why is my vulva out?!”  

The other thing men worry about is errections. I’ve done massage for years and have seen very few men get aroused. Usually they are on purpose. You can tell because they are doing their best to have you notice–doing what I call “boner crunches”. Occasionally it will happen accidentally (usually with a sleeping client). If you clearly are NOT trying to get a “full release” or “happy ending” we don’t really care. It happens. It’s actually part of the nervous system in charge of resting and digesting and activating it is one of the goals of massage. And before any guys try to get cute, ejeculation is a function sympathetic nervous system (the one in charge of fight or flight) and definitely NOT a goal of massage. 

Speaking of hookers, stop calling your massage therapist a masseuse. Masseuse, like escort, is code for prostitute. If you go to those people it’s up to you. But if I wanted to give handies I wouldn’t have bothered with going to school and racking up student loan debt. 

And lastly, rumbling tummys, snoring, gas we’ve heard it all. Again it’s part of the goals of massage. If you have to fart/toot just don’t do it while we are working on your glutes. 

Thighs sigh relief

So I have managed to sweet tea and sausage gravy myself to a level of fluff I’ve never had before.  And I’m working on that. Or telling myself I am. But in the meantime, I couldn’t figure out what to wear because denim shorts were too hot and dresses with this new-to-me thigh rub issue were killing me. But yay!  Look what I found. I’m so excited!!!  Glorious

Woman “pockets”

I dropped my iphone into the toilet…again.  My husband, who is a man and doesn’t even have to take his pants off to pee, was very upset with me.  How could I do that twice in 6 months with such an expensive phone!

The answer is simple, woman pockets!  I’m not sure why they even call them pockets since they really can’t hold much of anything larger than an eyelash securely.  What they really are is butt decorations.  I even went out and bought myself a waterproof case after the first time, but quickly learned it would no longer fit in my butt decoration, so went back to my old one.

And as unflattering as cargo pants were, I really miss them.  I miss that convenient pocket right at my finger tips, large enough to hold my lipgloss, some money, drivers license, AND debit card.  And none of it would fall out when you pee.  Or even in the wash!  Which was great when you found an extra $20, not so great when it was lipstick.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I dream of the day when women can have pockets!  And a waterproof phone would be nice too.


I’m a f@cking hero

I just realized this very minute that women are brave. On a whole, we are physically less strong than the half of humans with penises and most mammals our size. From the time we are children a large number of us have been abused physically and/or sexually. We are bombarded daily by phrases that continue to make us feel less than. “Like a girl” or “Don’t be a pussy!” Not only that, but we bleed for a GD week and we don’t die. Yet we are made to feel bad about it making us cranky. 

Men may never know the fear we face everyday for just being female. But you know what, with everything society throws at us, and we throw at each other, we carry the fuck on.  We know the danger we face every time we leave the house and we do it anyway. Put on your war paint, or makeup, whatever. And head out the door. We got this. 

King of the Castle

A long time ago kings protected their castles against invasions and armies. My husband spent the weekend doing the same. Except he went to war with squirrels and armies of ants. I think the battle was won. With fire! 

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