DISCLAIMER: If you are my Dad, or maybe even my Mom, or someone who doesn’t want to read something you will likely consider risqué, STOP READING! It is not my intention to shock, alienate or embarrass anyone. My intention is to put it out there to all readers or anyone who will listen, that being a woman with an intense and thriving sex drive and especially post-trauma, is not only extremely healthy, but is to be embraced and celebrated. For some of us, we go through incomprehensible shit storms that we may believe cause damage (NOT PERMANENT) and battle scars. (BATTLE SCARS ARE PRETTY HOT.) For someone who finds inner peace and especially inner and outer sexual peace, well… who needs to be quiet about that? Not me.
Please… let’s stop feeling victimized and ashamed, period.
If you think you wish to read on, first, take this subliminal test:
It is a brief(panties) subliminal test(icle), to see(men) if you are(getting it) up for it. If you feel un(cum)fortable now(right now, yeah… just like that), abstain from continuing reading this post.
Okay, how’d you do? Are we good? Here we go.
First, there is my vast history and some of it is a tough history, that began at my conception. I won’t go into all of the delicate, painful and unfathomable crimes and punishments that plagued how I arrived here and then evolved, how all that happened shaped me and others in my path. I mostly want to talk about now. No matter what shit storms we contend with, and with the right help, we can actually be extra amazing when the storms pass. We have to commit to thoughtful and loving clean up of the wreckage in our histories, with the understanding that we (former victims) are not dirty, bad or at fault, and have always been innocent and that we never, EVER have to brand ourselves as permanently damaged.
My first post on this particular blog referenced the fact that many years ago, I was raped while doing a show in Miami. (This was one of my sexual shit storms for sure.) This particular blog post drew criticism, because I wrote a lot about the sexy costumes I wore but didn’t write enough about rape culture. The truth was, even I fell prey to society’s messages, though I was educated on rape culture and an activist by nature. The criticism of my blog post was helpful to me. What I didn’t elaborate on, in that particular post was that even a liberal, social justice touting, strong woman of today can fall into self-blame and not even realize it. It can be tricky to balance the truth about where we are as a society, as opposed to where our own core values stand. When I was raped, I was drunk, I was perky, I was friendly and I wore seductive costumes in that particular show. Did I invite this disgusting, smelly criminal to rape me? No. I screamed, fought and begged him to stop. I was not to blame, period.
Do I think that women should have a right to wear pasties, fishnets and stilettos if we fancy doing so, and it doesn’t mean “we’re asking for it?” Yes, but, I find myself as a mother, saying, “no way!” to many outfits my eldest daughter thinks are fabulous, because I deem them as inappropriate. Does she look gorgeous? Yes. Still, I believe I know where society lives, as young white men get a slap on the hand after they rape unconscious women, one after the other.
I am very clear with my daughters that while we should be able to wear what we want to wear, society may not be as enlightened as we are. This totally sucks, but it’s the truth. When push comes to shove, I will do whatever I can to protect my daughters and lead by example. Does this make me a conservative, suit wearing, boring woman? Nope. It makes me a realist about where we are in our society, and as any great community organizer knows, the best way to get shit done, is to meet people where they are. This is how change begins and moves forward.
Plus, what may be just beneath someone’s conservative business suit is a titillating idea and mystery, in my opinion, is very exciting.
Like so many individuals and especially women, and for whatever reason, ( I’m good with never figuring out whys or wherefores), I have had such a challenging history. It’s so obvious that every painful occurrence I endured, played a significant role in conceiving a woman who’s tirelessly committed to being a “cycle stopper.” Yes, I’m a woman who really loves sex, and an important part of that is that I am very choosy about who, where, how and what. I’m also, creative, open and well… really fun. I’m not listing all of these factors to get men to want to sleep with me. Puh-leeze. Getting that isn’t hard. <–(Ha! See what I did right there?)
I’m writing that I love sex, so that people who have been sexually abused/victimized, have hope that they can be amazingly creative, happy and healthy lovers. For those individuals who have not been victims of sexual abuse, I encourage you to also celebrate your “get-on-down-with-your-fine-hot-self” sexuality. There’s nothing unnatural or unhealthy about it. Quite the opposite.
Do your moans of pleasure make you a slut? Do your fetishes make you weird? Hell, no. It’s when we judge ourselves by certain societal messages or by reflecting on past incidents that we get into trouble. My advice? For what it’s worth, get the right post-trauma help, and then, keep moaning and loudly. Enjoy your fetishes. Yes, yes and more yes.
I think of dissonance very literally. I ponder the sounds a psychotic perpetrator makes while he’s hurting someone who, at the time is helpless, and the sounds that come from the victim. They are so very different. In my experience, I once focused on the discordant sounds that were made. It helped me get through the pain and this particular focus was one of many focuses that really helped protect me through the storms.
What’s even more difficult, more painful than being a victim of someone else, is being a victim of our own selves – when we try and fight what is so inherent and natural inside of us. I don’t do that anymore, and I highly recommend not fighting it for another moment.
No perpetrator or dissonance could really fuck with the harmonious melodies that have always been singing and playing inside of me. They are all very real at my core and harmonize within the foundation I was born with. I can’t help but believe it’s the same for all of us… if we can be open enough to our own truth and beauty, no one can really take it from us, ever.
Some people have referred to me as a “warrior” or a “survivor,” and I know they mean this as a compliment, for which I am appreciative. I don’t, however, actually care for or identify with either term. I’m just a human being like other human beings. I think once I allow myself to carry a “survivor” or “warrior” label, some part of me is still hiding in the basement, away from living a full life, just waiting for the storm to pass.
The horrible, sexual shit storms ended many, many years ago and I am simply a whole human being walking through my life, just like you,
Life at times, many times, can be really sexy.