I was raised in a communist society where men and women were treated equally from the society on every aspect. However, at home I was faced with contradicting ideas which shaped my personality in a way that made me a very special case indeed, a rebellious and yet cautious woman. But I believe in destiny, and so I believe that this too happened for a reason. My mother often pointed at me that a man will always be more successful than a woman, not because the society may put her down, but because biologically she is inferior to a man, and so, a man can always advanced further in his career. She reasoned that even when a man and a woman are equally smart and equally knowledgeable, and equally educated, a man will advance further because a man is able to control his emotions, but a woman cannot. With this long speech, she wanted to convince me to give up on the idea of becoming a scientist, and instead pursuing the path of becoming an actress or a singer. Maybe she thought it was not much competition going on in the entertainment area; maybe she thought it was easy for females to become successful as actresses rather than scientists, or was it that she wanted me to pursue her dream, the dream which she could not and was not allowed to pursue when she was younger. Whatever that reason was, the bottom line was that my mother desperately wanted me to be on stage.

It was not that I did not like being on stage. I liked the thrill that spotlight gave me and all those eyes on me, but I soon came to realize that in the entertainment business there was too much competition, and sometimes I felt like a gladiator in the arena. I felt really bad when they took the song away from one of my friends and gave that song to me, for the children’s annual competition. I won the prize, yes I did. With that song “I am the Red Color,” I won my whole city’s admiration too. People soon forgot my real name and started calling me the “Red Color” girl. But with my popularity I also gained my friend’s hate and her desire to take revenge on me, which she never did, but her angry looks haunted me. There was so much competition that my mom could not even imagine, but I was facing it every day, and I wasn’t likening it a bit.

I finally gave up singing in grade seven, but I gave up acting much sooner. Of course I disappointed my mother very much with every decision I made. Her dreams of seeing me on that stage singing, and seeing the whole city cheering for me made her feel proud as a mother. The immense pleasure that she experienced after she had literally dragged my dad to come and see me performing on stage and made him admit that she had done a really good job with me after she saw him wiping his tears because of the joy and pride he felt for my success, which all was due to my mother’s persistence, all that was about to end soon. I was her ideal way of fulfilling her own dreams through me, but I broke all her hopes and her dreams just like that. I was like the black sheep, always making her life difficult. However, if she knew the truth of how close I came to being raped and sexually abused, she would have felt much better, much sooner. I was too young, just seven years old, when I realized the risk I was facing. To tell the truth, it was not very clear to me in a logical way, and I could not formulate or communicate the risk I was facing, but I decided to listen to my guts’ feelings.

That day I showed up for the regular practice at 3 pm at the main and only theater in our city.  My mom dropped me off at the back door and she left me as usually to come pick me in an hour.  As I entered the back of the theater I realized that I was alone and none of my friends had arrived yet. I saw the director of the show coming toward me. He was or acted surprised that I did not know that practice was cancelled for that day, but since my mom already left and I had to wait for her to pick me up, the director decided to sit beside me to keep me company. He started sharing some points about my performance. He was not very happy about it. In this play called “The Rocket ship” I had a very insignificant role, but I was doing my best to please everyone. I had to play the role of the little sister of a high school, teen age boy, who was trying to build a rocket ship with his team as part of their project for the science club. Somehow, I was the trouble maker little sister which carelessly, quite naturally for me, would bump into his rocket ship and by mistake ruined it. Then on the next act, I went on stage again where I said something to my teen age brother that would made him feel guilty for neglecting me and his friends and caring more about his pride and his rocket ship. Then I would leave the stage by taking another little boy by hand, leaving my brother thinking and feeling guilty about his latest actions. The director said that I was too stiff. I had to loosen up a bit, and be more natural. And since we had time, he decided that we could practice my part a little bit. Then he picked me up in his arms and twirled around and around, whispering in my ear, “I will make you a star.” I was quite passive, I did not know what that meant and I did nothing to resist at that point. As he started walking down the hall while still holding me in his arms, heading in the directions of the washrooms instead of the stage, I started to become curious and started questioning him with all my sincerity of a seven year old child, about where he was taking me, and whether the washroom was the place where people practice to become stars. He laughed at my naivety, but he did not feel threatened or intimated by my questions at all. That was not my intention either, but I was genuinely surprised “Why heading for the washrooms?” For some reasons, even years later I questioned myself whether I misunderstood his intentions. I could not stop him that day; I think I could have been raped if my guardian angel would not have stopped him. We heard a door opening, and the voice of the custodians and that’s when the director put me down and told me to keep it a secret, that one day he was going to make me a star. I did not tell my parents about what happened that day or what may have happened. I did not tell them about my bad feelings either. I could not form an accusation without facts, I did not even have any idea what could have happened, I only felt bad in my stomach and that wasn’t going away. So instead, I told my parents that I had changed my mind about becoming an actress. When they asked me what prompted me to make such decision I told them that I was too stiff while acting because I could not do what those teen age girls did. They set on boys’ laps even though there were many empty chairs around, and I could not understand the reason for that. But somehow that must have been important because they were always congratulated for their acting and I was always criticized. My father kissed me on the forehead and gave me his approval to withdraw from that show right away. My mom laughed and said that I was very smart indeed.

By the end of grade seven, something started to shift in me. Was it puberty or was it the inspiration after reading all the science-fiction books of Jules Verne that made me fall in love with science; or was it that I fell in love with this fiction character Captain Nemo; or maybe it was my destiny to shift my attention toward science instead of the stage. I did not mind the shift. In fact I wanted to prove my mom wrong, that a woman can be a mother, a wife and a scientist. My dad on the other hand did not mind the shift; he enthusiastically started teaching me anything I wanted to know about electricity. For some reasons I was grasping that topic with the speed of light. His dreams were that at some point I would have become an electrical engineer like him. But my dream was far from my mother’s or my father’s dreams. I was dreaming to become a scientist that knows more about the cosmos and more about the atom. I was convinced and even wrote it in my wish book that when I grow up I would discover the nature of the subatomic forces that keep atoms and atom’s particles together, and the nature of gravity that keeps the whole cosmos together. Crazy, crazy, I know. But my point is that I grew up in a society where a female had no boundaries for her dreams and who she wanted to become. Gender was not a barrier for the society I grew up in, but barriers were inside my home. These barriers existed in my parents’ mentalities. My father expected my mom to cook and have all his clothes washed and ironed, ready for him every morning. He never cared for me as dads often do for their children, feeding them, dressing them up and playing with them. Maybe it was because I was a girl, but my dad kept his distance from me and only communicated with me in ways that required or encouraged critical thinking on my side. For everything else he said to rely on my mother, as it was her area. He taught me when I was five that I should not go near any men, even if they were his friends or people we knew. If someone would want to give me hugs or kisses on my cheeks, my dad told me that I should refuse and extend my arm to shake hands instead. My mom called him sick in the head for teaching me such things at a young age. I did not understand their argument at all, but I did what my dad told me to do, most of the time.

My dad only noticed me for my brain. To him I was just a head. As for my mom, I was just a body. According to my mom I needed to take care of my body. She does that even nowadays, by reminding every female in the family to watch their weight. Every time we visit her, my son has to hop on the scale and he’ll get paid for every pound he has gained, while my daughters and I should lose weight, because a woman needs to be not too fat and not too skinny. Even the way she dressed me up when I was little, was to emphasize my feminine side, which was to showing lots of legs.Because of all these rules and restrictions I grew more and more rebellious in nature. I walked like a boy, I played like a boy, I wore shorts like boys not skirts, as my mom ordered me to; I climbed walls, and rolled on the grass and mud and ponds, playing with ducks all day. My hair was always messy and that became one of my nightmares, because even teachers at school were concerned about my hair, giving me tips on how to put a scarf around my head when I went to sleep at night. Everyone seemed to be concerned about the way I looked, but for some reasons I did not give a damn about what others thought. I looked at myself in the mirror with the eyes of my soul and I liked what I saw. I learned a lesson that mothers should encourage high self-esteem in their daughters, instead of making them self-conscious about weight and their bodies. To avoid being effected by such criticism I lived with my head in the clouds. I acted instinctively, nothing was planned or calculated. I often stopped by a photographer and asked him to take pictures of me on random days, and then I told my mom she had to pick up some photos and pay the photographer the next day. Yes, to myself I looked perfect.

Naturally, as I grew up and hormone levels started to change, the chemistry inside my body changed too. I started to notice some strange feelings inside of me and no one had prepared me for that. These strange feelings made me dream and imagine a passionate love story between a boy and a girl that went through a lot of challenges to save their love, but in the end they got back together. Sometimes my stories ended in tragedy, and sometimes they ended with a wedding. And even when the story ended in tragedy, I kind of thought that was a happy ending because these two lovers were finally allowed to embrace one another. You can say that the stories I imagined were exactly like Romeo and Juliet’s story, but what is strange is that I did not have a chance to read anything by Shakespeare at the age of fifteen. I believe that tragedy comes naturally in human’s mind as a solution for their intense feelings. As these intense feelings grew stronger inside of me, I expressed them in the most natural way for humans, by role playing the drama with a tragic ending, when my parents were not around of course. I was preparing myself for a big failure in the future, by making myself believe that love is so intense that if it is allowed it will end in tragedy. I did not know and no one told me that love may be intense but it is also beautiful, and it does not have to end that way. I was terrified of these changes in my body, and I did not know if were allowed to feel that way, if it was OK to touch myself, if the stories I imagined were OK too. I was feeling guilty second by second.

Because of what I went through on my own where I almost set myself up for failure, I became cautious as a mother and decided to talk to my daughters about these feelings before they start blaming themselves and start developing complex issues in regards to their body and their sexuality. My mother did not explain these things to me. She let me wonder on my own. When I asked her many years later why she did not talk to me about sexuality and what to expect during my teen years she said that she thought I knew because these things come naturally. I did not know and even though they came naturally, I was not sure if I was supposed to feel that way. I drove my own conclusions that I was a freak and I ended up blaming myself for feeling that I could not explain. I could not learn anything from the TV either, because I was not allowed to watch TV when my parents were not around. I remember one day when I was in high school, my parents weren’t home, so I turned on the TV and obviously searched for the inappropriate stuff. As soon as I heard my parents coming home I turned the TV off and acted like an angel, reading my book on the sofa. My dad went straight to the TV and he noticed that TV was warm. I was caught red handed and that made me feel even more embarrassed, for wanting and desiring these things I was not allowed to see, mention or feel. Such restrictions created more and more drama in my consciousness that at some point as a self-defense mechanism to protect myself from feeling guilty for my desires, I started to believe that love did not exist. I realized that all that I was experiencing were momentarily emotions of an arousal state due to the increase level of hormones in my body, but I proceeded in concluding that there was no such thing as love.

My parents’ role model of what they called love failed to convince me that love was beautiful or that love even existed. If love meant obsession, nagging, jealousy, and asking for attention all the time, then love was not for me. I was out of there. And if love meant just some moments of ecstasy, making your wife feel like a queen, and sometimes even forgetting that your daughter was in the room, but as soon as another woman showed up in the horizon, the man would drop his queen cold on the floor and run after whoever caught his attention, I didn’t need that kind of love either. As a result, love in my mind would only be fulfilled through tragic endings. Inexperienced, uneducated, and hurt in many ways, I went on and lived my life believing that love did not exist; only lust and sex existed, but lust could not fool me. For these reasons I did not think too deeply whenever I said yes, and married without falling in love, because I did not expect love. Because of this mentality I believed that woman must be good in sex to please her husband, and that’s all a woman needed to do to keep her husband around. I also learned from my mom that a woman must be vigilant that no other woman steals her husband, no one else takes what’s hers. But in contrary to her strategy of blaming her man, I decided that making your man jealous worked better. I also helped her in many occasions when she complained how my dad paid too many complements to his friend’s wife. My mom felt devastated and every time these friends visited us, my parents would fight and argue for hours and hours after. So I decided to take matters on my hand because I could no longer stand that much drama in my life. Next time these friends visited us, I was a teen age girl, growing graciously and beautiful, and I knew my worth. So, I started to sweet talk to my dad’s friend and even though everyone thought he was some kind of impotent as a man, he started to notice me and started paying too much attention to me. This drove his wife crazy, and she ordered him to get up and go as they were late for something, something. I was so glad they left, as I started to hate myself for playing that game and gaining the attention of an old man I did not want. From that day on, these friends never stepped foot at our home, and I was glad that my mom stopped complaining. I thought that kind of drama stopped for awhile, until one day, my mom complained again about my dad’s infidelity. This time she complained that the reason he went to play chess at our neighbor’s house was because of his beautiful wife that went crazy and never stopped complementing my dad for his dreamy eyes. That was true, and I saw that myself. So when one day this lady’s husband asked me if my dad was home to tell him that they could play chess, I asked this man, “I can tell my dad that you want to play chess, but are you sure that you will win?” He answered full of pride that he is very good at chess and he always won. I looked at him in a very suspicious way, not knowing whether I would make my point clear to him or not but I had to give it a try to save my mom from her misery and my ears from the ongoing drama, so I said to this man, “I am not sure about that, because my dad knows and plays lots of games…..” And I emphasized the word “lots.” I think this man got the message pretty quick because my dad came home furious that his friend invited him to play chess but then he had to cancel because he forgot he had to take care of some other business. From that day on, my dad was never invited in their house. But, seeing all this drama and trying to save my parents’ marriage at every new situation that my dad created or my mom insinuated convinced me more and more that love is a weak feeling that no one needs. It was better to marry not because of love. because if worst comes to worst, woman can leave and divorce her husband with ease, at any time, because when there is no love there are no heartbreaks. I was right about the last part, but what I did not know was the fact that what my parents called love was not. Love, true love does not break your heart. A wounded pride breaks your heart. I came to realize the truth later in my life that true love is such an addiction that makes you think of your love partner not in obsessive ways, worried that he or she would betray your love and your trust. I came to realize that love is such a feeling that once you experience it for someone it will make you surrender all your fights, your pride, your wants, your needs and all that matters for you after that point is your partner’s happiness, not yours.

I was blessed or I was lucky I would say that despite the circumstances I grew up with, despite of all the wrong lessons I was taught and bitter experiences I went through, I had the chance to feel that strange feeling in my heart, which is so addictive that it is still going on, even now when all my hopes are lost. This strange feeling of love can be so hypnotic that once it hits you, you’ll never stop thinking of that special person. You will not stop thinking about that special kiss, or about the intensity of love making that you two shared, or of those little silly moments and jokes you told to one another, topics that weren’t important at all, but that made each other laugh, and you felt so comfortable on each other’s arms. You will not forget these intense feelings for years to come if you happen to experience love in such way that I experienced. However, in order to feel this intensely, and allow true love to fulfill you, a woman must first believe that she is worthy, so her pride will not feel hurt because of her husband’s actions. Only when a woman understands her values, she will no longer attach her worth to her husband’s fidelity or infidelity.

When I met such love for first and last time in my life, I had finally reached the point where I knew I was worthy and had values. However, there was one more thing that I was doing wrong, which prevented me from experiencing true love. Despite the fact that I knew my worth, I still believed on what my mama taught me that in bed a woman is just a body, hence, it is her job to please her husband. As such, even though I knew I was smart and funny, I was somehow overdoing my duty in bed and considered it a job to please my man. That is wrong, totally wrong. Despite all my efforts I did not get any more appreciation or attention. Instead I was losing it. When I did not receive such appreciation I compensated it, like every other woman does, by showing how smart and powerful I was outside the bedroom. Both these moves in or out of the bedroom were wrong. And it was only because of my guardian angel, that I learned my valuable lesson, the secret of making love. I remember, I was chatting online with someone who didn’t have a profile picture. He said he was a man but I never had a chance to see his face and I never learned his real identity either. I feel a bit sad that I never had a chance to say thank to my angel directly, but which always stayed in my mind, and I never forgot what he or she did for me. I asked this person many times to go out for coffee, as friends if not as lovers. He made it clear to me that he was online just for chatting, not to cheat on his spouse, because he indeed loved his wife, and so despite my persistence, we never met because he always made up some excuses. I understood finally and so I never persisted any more, but it’s to this mysterious person that I dedicate the secrets of experiencing true love. I appreciated his teachings and his advice to love myself first, and to think of myself as worthy. As such, I did not need to prove my worth and that’s why he advised me to allow the man be the man, in bed. He advised me to never feel obligated to do anything for my partner in bed if I did not feel doing it. I had to just let myself enjoy the moment without thinking whether I pleased the man and whether I was doing my job right. I had to let go of such silliness and let the man for once take care of me instead. His advice was gold.

I am sharing his advise with everyone because I believe it’s about time that this secret must come out. Men and women may compete in any other area of life but in bed a man is a man; he leads and woman follows. Women, you must know your worth and let the men please you. If your partner cannot please you then he is not the one for you. I believe in love now, and I am terrified of the idea that I would not have experienced that intense pleasure if I would have made the same mistake I did before, where I considered lovemaking as a chore to please my man in order to feel worthy. Doing that it only smothers the man, and it is totally the wrong strategy that we were taught as women. Instead letting the man be the man in bed, and totally please you is the right strategy for a healthy relationship. Be careful not to misinterpret my words, as I am not saying that a woman must do nothing, just lie on bed like a dead log. In fact I want to caution you that it is important, extremely important, that you become aware of your feelings during love making experience. If you do not feel the intense pleasure then he is not the right person. But in case you do then show it to your man without any restrictions or hesitation. Your man will appreciate that deeply. Let him know how good he made you feel without faking it, and without feeling embarrassed or worried how you look or sound. If you feel the need to fake it, then he is not your Mr. Right. If you fake it and cling onto the wrong person then you both will feel unhappy for the rest of your lives and will start fighting to protect your pride from being hurt. Women, you need to finally realize it that by faking the pleasure a partner gives you, you are doing yourself a huge disfavor, you are preventing yourself from feeling true love, true pleasure.  You don’t know what you are missing. Do not stay with the wrong guy because of your pride.

So here then are the three well kept secrets of a happy love making experience that will make you so addicted to your partner and your partner addicted to you that you do not have to worry about infidelity anymore. He will always be in your mind, and you in his. These secrets are: 1) Know your worth, 2) Let the man be the leader in bed, and 3) Show your appreciation, show that you are feeling the intensity of his love and you are likening it. Do not fake anything, because if do, you will be preventing your true love come to you.


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