A while ago I was asked by a friend to write a piece for a book that she was going to create, with letters from all sorts of people, written to a young woman on the cusp of her dawning womanhood and sexuality.
And this is what I wrote........
As you step up
to your sexual life, surrounded by all the messages that have been gifted to
you whether you wanted them or not, about men and women and sex, all those
fairytales of princes and princesses, and the wishing and hoping that you’ve
felt all your life from people around you……
There’s just one
thing that I really want you to know.
Your sexuality
can change. Drastically. And it’s up to you and how deep you’re
willing to dive into yourself and your authentic reality, and get to know and
love yourself, as to how deep you’ll dive into a sexual relationship. So many people think that their sexuality is just something
they’re born with, and that they have to make the best of what they’ve got, but
in my experience, that just isn’t the case.
I bristled into
the world of sexuality at 16, with my travelling bags packed with all sorts of
other peoples baggage. The main
baggage stowed away in my bags was from my mother. A fundamentalist Christian, she informed me often that men
were rabid beasts, that would rape me at the drop of a hat, ( I must admit that
thought kind of excited me with the thrill of danger) and that it was up to me
to stay decorus in all occasions, and make sure I didn’t egg them on. She also told me that using a tampon
was like having sex, so not to use them till after I was married. I was so disappointed when I used my
first tampon off in the bush, borrowed from a friends mum, and embarrassedly
tried to ‘get it in’.
In order to get
over that, I had to fuck a lot of people.
I also started off the sexual game with absolutely no self esteem or
sense of boundaries, so my experiences were a mix of pretty foul and
surprisingly sexy to start off with.
Peppered with the odd spray of a delightful and respectful experience
with a random man or woman. I
would valiantly attempt to have sex with just about anyone that suggested
it. After an emotionally cold and
physically frigid childhood, any attention at all was cause for gratitude in
me. But despite my utmost
attempts…….my cunt was clamped shut.
I’ve only ever heard about this condition occurring in old women, and
called something to do with walnuts, but I know it’s possible, cause it
happened to me. I had many a man
dedicatedly try to enter my centre of sex, and be totally unsuccessful. They weren’t just half hearted attempts
either. One gentle man even bathed
me and massaged me all over, but I was barred to all access. I travelled round Europe for a year,
going home with all sorts of men, some even just rolling round on the grass in
the dark in a park, and never managed to have proper sex. They all came around the general
region, but they never penetrated my warm castle.
Because I was so
easy, I was treated as one that you liked to sleep with but not bring home to
mother. It took poetry and cards
and flowers from a gentle man with a small penis, to finally enter my
barricades. And then no holds were
barred, as I launched out into sexploration.
I did just about
everything. Men, Women,
Threesomes, Orgies, Affairs, One Night Stands, Oral, Anal, Holy Whoring………and I
never really felt a thing. My cunt
may have been opened but my heart wasn’t.
Everything was experienced through my head. It was like my body was numb, and I lived it through my
thoughts. I learnt how to fake
orgasms and make like a porn star.
And even more, I learnt how to become an extremely fine lover, so as my
lovers were so gone on bliss, that they wouldn’t notice my absence. Some moments really hit through the
gaffa tape wrapped round my body, like the first time I was fisted, and some
moments of pure love. I treasured
them close. But some moments were
totally awful, and I experienced rape (by women no less), to heap on top of
having body memories of childhood abuse.
Alongside sex, I
was unpeeling the wraps of my childhood and cultural clutches, and trying to
work out who the hell I really was beyond what I’d been moulded to. I spent many years undoing things. My patterns and conditioning. My need to keep busy. I tensed myself into relaxing. I made myself sit and do nothing. I tried to listen to my instinct buried
deep beneath entrenched dogma. I
learnt from everything and everyone around me. I found treasures in the dark.
And I started to
really learn about myself. About
my own way of doing things. About
my heart. More to the point, I
started to really like who I was.
Like how my survival instincts had led me, even when I found it hard to
hear them. Like the stories that
made me who I was.
Then I bumped
into my soul mate. Sitting on a
barstool, with his blue blue eyes that I fell into, and couldn’t get out
of. We had a long one night fling,
and I thought it was all she wrote, but on getting home he haunted me. Quite a worldy wise sexual professional
at that point, he’d been the first to treat me with such utmost respect,
chivalry, and acceptance. I wrote
a book inspired by the experience, and then on meeting up again, all the things
I’d written had come to pass. We
have an amazing meeting story, but what’s even more important to my point right
now, is that our hearts met as well as our sex, and after all of those journeys
that I’ve told you about, I went from being a sexually rapacious ice queen, to
feeling sex and love and bliss and warmth through my whole soul and body.
We fuck like a
god and goddess taking a break from their day jobs and moonlighting as porn
stars.
But it wasn’t an
easy journey. It wasn’t all hearts
and roses and knights on stallions, and once we met it wasn’t happy ever
after. We both had shitty
childhoods we were recovering from, massive trust issues, and dark paths that
we’d travelled to get to each other.
We put each other through the wringer, and tested each other over and
over, and all the time I thought I’d ‘lowered’ myself to his vibration and was
healing him, I was actually letting him heal me equally. He took 5 years to believe that I
really loved him and was going to stay.
I reckon I took about the same.
We’re noisy and
we argue, and we make love and war equally passionately, and most important to
both of us……….we have absolutely no secrets from each other. We tell each other the absolute
truth. After childhoods full of
hypocrisy, duplicity, and lies, we’re totally allergic to all of it. We got into so much trouble before we
found each other with the world out there, cause we refused to lie. To ourselves or anyone else. No matter how uncomfortable that may
have made life around us.
Right in the
beginning, in our torrid and explosive implosion into each other, a woman from
my childhood religion came to visit, who’d known me since I was a baby. And she spent the day with us hearing
stories and mutually falling in love.
And right near the end she said, “When you come across those seemingly
unsurpassable brick walls in your relationship, the ones that other people say
you should just give up on……don’t.
Find some way to get under it, or over it, or around it, or knock it
down, cause I guarantee you, that when you get over the other side, the love
and trust and gifts that it will bring will be worth it.”
And she was
right.
Even though
we’ve waited till it was extremely unpopular till we did it, me and my man have
been together for over 14 years now, and apart from a few little tests at the
beginning, have been completely, lustfully, and explicitly monogamous. The crystalline and multifaceted
glittering creation that we’ve crafted between us and around us, is built from
all our tests and trials in the beginning, and our coming togethers, and our
fights, and our sexuality, and our births, and the amazing sexual fests that
created our babies, and our bodies and the way they smell and look and age, and
our complete and total honesty with ourselves and each other, and our growing
mutual and self love………and our sex life all these years and babies down the
track is simply epic.
After starting
my sexual journey as a maiden novice, clamped and numbed shut, I’ve matured
through the mother and sexual phase into a goddess alongside my god. I thought our sexual climate was pretty
rare and fine before we got to this volcanic region of the Northern Rivers, but
since coming here, we birthed our seventh baby together that was as my midwife
described, ‘The epitome of the sexual birthing divine feminine’, and birthed an
ectopic pregnancy together a year and a half later that was equally powerful,
and find ourselves in a golden age that just keeps getting better. I have multiple orgasms and women’s
ejaculations and we regularly say to each other ‘wow…..never did that
before!’. Despite realistic
expectations, our sex life keeps getting better.
Your sexual
journey as a woman, is a journey, not a destination. And you can always change it. Take it from me.
I know.