The following is a piece I free wrote as I was working through a profound writer’s block I was experiencing in the creation of my forthcoming book about Sex. Also, to get on the list and be the first to know when it releases, click HERE.
I’ll be honest. A part of me was, and is still to some degree, terrified to write this book. I know I’ve been writing about sex and relationships for a few years now, but to share my thoughts, viewpoints, personal stories on a much bigger and global level scares me. It feels exposing, scary, and downright vulnerable.
To be super candid, this stems from that fact that I don’t feel safe. And this is something that has been coming out more and more for me the past few months. There is something about sex that simply isn’t safe. Look at all of the assaults and crimes and violations that happen daily. Not just to women, to men too!
So for as much of an enthusiast I am about sex, I can also be meek and prudent and guarded.
Sometimes it doesn’t feel safe to even be in my body. I ask myself constantly, “How am I supposed to balance being a sensual and sexual being with being a human being period?”. I have a resistance to the focus being purely on the physical (sex), because there is so much more to us than any one aspects of ourselves.
I live with a deep fear of not being seen as my full self – a sexual AND spiritual being – a person with a wide range and full spectrum. Especially when this aspect (sex) is seen so negatively.
I have a body and a brain. I have a vagina and a heart. I have talents, opinions, ideas, I have feelings and intuitive hits. I have a soul, devotion, and compassion. I have values, as well as a beginners mind open to learning something new. I also have judgments, resentment, and frustrations. I have traumas, hurts, heartbreaks. There is a whole lotta intricacy and complexity living in this little ol’ “body” of mine.
So to try and minimize any one person to who they are based on the form of their body, or their sexual preferences, is only looking at a small part of a vastly bigger picture.
But because this does exist in our world, this distorted and disassociated view of Sex, it scares me. I feel like if I write this book I would have a big bull’s-eye on my back. It’s as if I would give people free reign to rip apart my reputation and judge me based on what I do and do not desire.
In some regards I want to think that I am being paranoid to believe that. Yet every day, in some small way, I feel like I already have a bull’s-eye. Walking down the street can be uncomfortable. There is a constant level of vigilance. And in some cases hyper-vigilance (for example when I was in parts of Nicaragua and was outright being cat-called, whistled at, sent kissy noises). Not that this is the case everywhere, or even in all parts of Nicaragua (as I did have some sweet exchanges with men there too), however it exists and I have been at the receiving end of it.
So no … I don’t feel very safe right now. All that made me want to do is become small. To hide. To cover my body, whether with clothes or extra fat. Instead of feeling protected and unguarded, I felt like prey.
Which makes sense if I follow the red thread back to childhood. I was the daughter of an alcoholic, gambling father. Our household never felt stable. It felt chaotic, unpredictable, scarce. There was also the energy of unfaithfulness, lying, and cheating swirling around our tiny and impressionable minds. Whether it was true or not, the accusations alone were enough to make me mistrust fidelity and the sanctity of marriage and sex.
Yet oddly enough, I don’t place blame on anyone or anything here. I know that this is a byproduct of centuries of misunderstandings and miscommunications around our relationship to ourselves, our bodies, and others. If we knew different, I honestly believe we would do different.
Which brings us right back to why I would do such a fucking crazy thing as writing a book around such a charged and taboo topic such as sex. Here is the truth – I personally didn’t know any different. So growing up I either took action based on that knowing (or lack thereof) or stayed frozen from inaction.
I tried to learn as much as I could, however the sources were either hard to come across or nonexistent. Not to mention the inherent shame or fear of going straight to hell from even being curious to learn more about Sex.
I guess I must have deep down believed that sex could be both pleasurable and also devotional. That it could be a key to unlock dormant parts of ourselves, both primal and sacred. That not only can it be such a fun and exciting path to self discovery, but also a journey of deep and intimate communion with another.
However that took me a long time to get to – the truth, my truth. That sex is powerful but also pure. That Sex is creation and does not need to be the source of such destruction. That Sex can be healing, lovely, playful, tender, and sweet.
That’s all I want for you too, by the way: To come to your own truth.
And I’m still learning. There is a level of deepening around my sex and sexuality that is new for me. It is both foreign and familiar though. In some ways it is like coming home to myself, yet trusting without any real evidence that home is wherever I am. My body, my sex, my expression of my desire and turn on, is available to me always.
Although it can be a very private and internal journey, it can also be a shared one to be communicated and celebrated by us all. That is my hope with my transparent, honest, open, vulnerable sharing of my own stories. I want to normalize this conservation … because I really believe that if it wasn’t such a shame and guilt filled topic, we would have a lot less pain, suffering, and violence in the world as a result.
We would feel much more free, respectful, consensual, and honoring of ourselves and each other when it comes to Sex. Because honestly isn’t that the goal of being a human on this planet with other humans anyway?!
Want to read more when my book publishes? Click HERE.