Beauty and the Porn Beast

Welcome, Dearest Friends, to the first guest post in our Love & Making It series, written by Sarah Wheeler, a woman of valor and heart.  Through a truly awesome writing community called Story Sessions, I have gotten to know and love Sarah.  The following words are hers – about her journey with her husband through the trenches of sex and porn addiction and marriage.
Read her words and let them read you. This is her story and one told with thoughtful attention to detail in her reactions and her husband’s.
You will agree and you will disagree. Pay attention to what and why you feel the way you do.  Read yourself as you read her story.

Beauty and the Porn Beast by Sarah Wheeler

If I’m honest with myself, I knew about his porn habit when we were dating. There were a stack of magazines in his closet, and I acted as though I was cool with the whole thing. Because, really, he’s a single guy and what do I expect? Every guy I’ve ever known looks at porn, at least he didn’t have a life-sized poster hanging on his wall. I told myself that this was what he used to cope with being single and allowed myself to believe that if we became more than just this “thing” we refused to label, the magazines would disappear and he would be enamored with me (and me alone) and we would live happily ever after. I blame my obsession with Beauty and the Beast for that mindset: “if you love him, magical glitter will melt away all his ugly parts and he will be perfect and you will be happy forever.” Dead wrong. You can fast forward to six […]

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    Tonight I Can (a quick and honest thought on sex in marriage)

Tonight I Can (a quick and honest thought on sex in marriage)

LOVE and MAKING IT is a new series on sex and marriage, bodies and souls. It will be candid and sometimes messy.  It’s not just about having a great sex life; it’s about having a great body life. I want one of those.  Read at your own risk.

An Honest Prayer About Sex in Marriage
I cannot shave
I cannot be thinner
I cannot grow or shrink my breasts
I cannot learn to dance on a lap or on a pole
I cannot be anything but me
But I can be brave and I can smile
I can kiss and I can love
I can move toward you instead of away
I can stop disqualifying myself from fun
For tonight I will to let you love me as I am in this very instant
not as I will be tomorrow or was yesterday
I can forget my age, weight, rules and responsibilities
I can decide to play for just a night with the love of my life
Tonight I can


(Addition: I sent this to my husband for his privacy-release, and his comment just made me laugh. “also, rereading your post… I get all the other things you can’t do by tonight… but why can’t you shave? That seems doable.”  yep, seems doable. I agree. but sometimes, it’s just not.)


Beautiful Women SOS

I could tell you that you are beautiful…
but what would be the point of that?

You might believe me for a moment, but the first light breeze would blow that sucker right off


You’d think I was just saying it to make conversation


You’d think I was an idiot


It’s ok. I know. I’ve done it. 

In the past, when someone told me I was beautiful, I too was faced with a swift moral dilemma, because either that person was a Liar OR they had terrible taste and my opinion of them needed to go down a couple steps.


My husband says I am beautiful.  After almost 14 years of marriage, I must ignore my moral dilemmas here. Usually, I accept his compliments as a gift from God; that my husband has some kind of magic God-filter on his eyes. This is good, the God-filter.

But I don’t feel it. The words fly at me and they bounce off, like I have a force field against compliments. They can’t get in.
I do not, absolutely do not, almost never ever, feel beautiful. Do you?

Over the last few years, God has grabbed my heart on this issue, but I had to work on myself before I could start to speak it – write it – heal it in others.  I knew I needed to. I am a mother and a leader.  Like so many of you, I long to make the world more whole, more alive, more true – more aware of God in ALL things.  Brandy Patterson Walker is a woman fighting and leading the way into a wilder, more loving and free Way. As I was working on a piece for a her new book, “WILD GOSLINGS: engaging with kids in […]

By |July 11th, 2013|Beauty SOS47|8 Comments|

A Cold Cup of Water (maybe with some fruit?)

Have you ever wandered into a desert-time in your life?
If you are like me, it happened slowly; so slowly you didn’t notice the landscape growing more and more arid. One day you looked up, confused, wondering where you were and suddenly feeling very alone, very vulnerable, and very thirsty.
A glass of cool water on a hot day is like pure life soaking back into your cells. Dehydration can kill a girl. Steal her voice. Make her weak.
This entire year, I have been dying of thirst in my own desert-time. My throat parched and scratchy, I wandered, a little lost and a little plain-old sad, not knowing what to do next but knowing I couldn’t survive on my own any longer.

I’m a speaker and a writer and my throat got so dry that I simply lost my voice. I don’t mean literally, I could still speak if I had to, barely, but the words that mattered could no longer get out of me. Fear and confusion gripped my heart.

Then I heard it, a voice calling out offering fresh water! Water in the form of possible guidance and community for a career I longed to pursue with renewed passion.

I followed that voice with every ounce of strength and bravery I had left.

And I made it. I made it.

When I arrived, I didn’t just find a glass of water from a new friend, I fell into a river.

I fell into a river of hope, support, love, prayer, acceptance and power – an entire tribe of thirsty women wetting their whistles, finding their voices, and learning to sing again.

That strong, clear voice calling me to the river belonged to a woman named, Elora Nicole. A writer and a […]

Friendship Rugburns

Through the big glass window, I watched my daughter in her first dance class. It’s like going to the aquarium, except the fish are more beautiful and they smile at you as they swim by.

On that very first day she made a friend. They danced and held hands and made each other laugh.  Tiny girls in tights and pink shoes and smiles.

Watching your kid make a friend is one of the best experiences in life.

We were excited to go back the next week and see her new friend. This second week, though, a new girl came. My daughter’s friend and the new girl hit it off.

So now I watch, through that giant window I wished would shrink to pinhole-size, as my daughter’s friend and this new girl clasp their four hands together, spin around and dance. They have a great time; truly enjoying each other. And I watched my daughter watch. From the side, she sees their joy and friendship bloom. I witness her move forward, asking so politely to join in the dance. Again. Again. Again, she asks, “Can I dance too?” Can I please hold hands and join in your circle?

The two other girls look at each other, because they are connecting and they don’t want to let anyone else in. They dance around some more and they see out of the corner of their eyes, my daughter still watching them… she’s too new to this friendship game. She doesn’t know how to hide her desire – to look busy or confident or just-fine-being-by-myself-thanks.

I hold my breath. Wishing. Praying. Not just praying that they would include her, but for her heart’s confidence and courage.

And eventually they did let her enter their circle. […]

By |April 3rd, 2013|Honest Home|1 Comment|