Sex

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.