Monday, February 21, 2011

For me, sexuality is as mental as it is physical, as sacred as it is nature (and who is to say nature is not imbued with sanctity, and vis versa?). The moment when two hands meet with the same electricity, when two people come together with mutual desire and respect and vulnerability -- that moment, to me, is ritual. I am in no way a religious person, but I cannot help but notice that every time we express ourselves erotically, something profound happens. Whether casual romping or the product of a long term love, there is something inherently breathtaking about the machination of giving another person pleasure, and learning to accept that pleasure from others.

I do not mean to say that sex essentially links our hearts or souls to another person, only that there is something about the nature of sexuality and sexual expression that tells us something about ourself, and creates a space for openness. I believe that, if given freedom from shame and fear, claiming our own desires allows us a richer world, and one in which we will more comfortably find ourselves. What better way to get to know yourself than to learn your body, to know what turns you on and what feels good?

I have often found it difficult to articulate desire plain-spoken. The nature of my arousal, my sexuality, my eros most naturally comes dressed in metaphor and lyricism: an elusive courtesan, humming madly beneath layers of silk and intention. In spite of my own verbal apprehensions, eros is a lens through which I see most of the world, a fuzz and warmth that informs and shapes my experiences as a person. Eros, desire and need are enmeshed in my life inextricably, each casting a glow to the smallest of details -- the feel of fishnet stockings against my thighs as I walk; a silk tie firm against my collar; the force of a bass beat or a smoke stained vocal line; a lover's penmanship, slurred with anticipation.

Owning your sexuality can be hard, especially if you come from a repressive culture, or if your desires don't necessarily follow what is considered mainstream. Hell, it's scary sometimes, even to yourself. Coming to terms with my own sexuality meant facing a slew of seeming contradictions, taboos, foreign territories, and many rejections. There are desires of mine that I have yet to speak aloud, but I have learned to say them to myself, to reassert their validity over and over as mine, and as okay. I think this is important, something we all owe to ourselves. And eventually, when we're ready, let it out in the world. Trust me, as I am learning to trust myself: it will be okay.

And kids, I know I went all heavy with this post, but this part is important: sexuality is beautiful, but it is also silly. Don't be afraid to laugh sometimes, don't be afraid to get messy, and for fuck's sake, don't forget to have fun. If you aren't having fun, you're doing it wrong.

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