Harnessing Sexuality

I go through periods of metaphoric deaths, usually coupled with celibacy, isolation, and intense introspection. When the phases are complete I am reborn and want nothing more than multiple outlets for my boisterous passion and impetuous energy. This is usually the place new lovers are inserted into my life. My sex drive is strong and consistent during my rebirths and smoldering during the deaths. I love the merging and intimacy of sex, the passion, animalism, tenderness, and the healing. My last “death” awakened and catapulted me so far past my last spiritual level that I feel like a new, lighter, and freer woman living authenticity in my soul, in my skin. I know there are more levels to reach, but the one I’m on now feels so good physically and mentally.

Sex and catastrophe have always been life changing and regenerative for me. Repeated Phoenix risings of sorts. I suppose this is due to my abundant Plutonian energy. Pluto is my most dominate planet, and of course it’s marked by death, rebirth, secrets, and sexuality. I’m intensely private, especially about my family, spirituality, and love life, so I usually hold back in my writing, but I feel the need to be transparent right now. 

I grew up in church, but religion never felt comfortable to me. I couldn’t relax into it even when I was going through the motions of it. I’ve always had this need to know why sex was so taboo and to be feared. If I’m being honest, I can’t say I blame my ex-husband for cheating on me. I did everything I was taught to do. I was taught how to be a WIFE, how to: cook, clean, stay pretty, keep the house tidy, keep the kids clean, be everything my husband needed (not according to his own admission but by older women before me), and to give my husband access to my body whenever he wanted because it was no longer my body. It became HIS body. Typing that made me want to puke and clench my legs tightly together. What a disgusting and disempowering way to live, but that is a whole ‘nother topic, so I digress. Sex was a chore for me when I was married. I was taught to save myself for marriage then instantly become a porno star once I said, “I do.” It was hard to enjoy sex after I had been taught it defiles and can send me to Hell. Even though I had premarital sex with him I didn’t enjoy it because I felt terrible and as though God was disappointed in me. It’s no wonder I didn’t have an orgasm until I was 25. Anyway, it wasn’t until my divorce fell apart and I had to rebuild my entire life from ground zero did I begin to understand the power of owning my body, my sex, and my sexuality.

Initially I was looking for an escape from my pain, and wine wasn’t strong enough to soothe the sting of my pain and bruised confidence. In walked a man who was supposed to be off limits to me, but the moment I laid eyes on him I instinctively knew we would be together and have a damn good time. I didn’t make any moves or do anything outlandish to garner his attention. I knew he felt my energy. To make a long story short, for the first time in my life I had amazing mind-blowing sex and orgasms so intense they had me shook! Both literally and figuratively.

By the time we crossed paths I was a bit apathetic and had grown tired of fear-based religion. I needed something different. I needed a truth that resonated with me, one I didn’t have to force myself to accept. I was also in a period of uncovering more of my own personal truth and adjusting my morals, beliefs, and life to accommodate those truths. I became addicted to sex with him because those were some of the only moments I allowed myself to be totally free, and that freedom opened doors for me outside of sex. Once my need of him expired and I had gleaned all I could from him I let him go and closed the door on our sexual relationship. I now understand it wasn’t necessarily sex with him that opened the door to my freedom. It was my acknowledgement and acceptance of my own sexual creative force that had empowered me. I have and am still learning how to harness, embrace, and wisely utilize that power. Sexual energy is purely creative energy and the seeds of creativity and manifestation. When I feel that energy stirring now I meditate and figure out just what I need to create and manifest at that moment. The yoni is a sacred space and should be treated as such. It’s powerful. Once the traumas and wounds surrounding issues with our sexuality are confronted and healed we become unstoppable portals of healing, power, creativity, and manifestation. I’m not as open to sharing my body with lovers these days because I now know the power I have sexually and all I went through to get to this place spiritually, but if we are vibing on the same waves and the wants and attraction are mutual I don’t deny myself that pleasure and opportunity to be expanded. Own your sexuality and change your life.

Most of the men in my life have tried to own me in one way or another. I find the notion laughable because I can’t be owned. That went out the door with my marriage. I’ve been mostly emotionally unavailable all my life, so it’s only natural I attracted those kinds of people to myself. Once I became aware of it and started healing that part of myself I started to attract people who were emotionally available to me but not physically so. Again, I had to reflect and realize that though I had opened myself emotionally I wasn’t quite ready to physically be available to anyone, so here I am now, practicing the art of fluidity, learning to just be and go with whatever feels right to ME regardless of how culturally or socially right or wrong it is. So, I view myself as a free agent of sorts. I refuse to be owned, and by the same measure I’m not trying to own another. It took me a long time to get to this place. I had to learn to how to live without the things and people I thought would make me happy, without a man I loved incredibly deeply, and longed for every single day of my life. His absence coupled with not being able to get the things I really wanted taught me to live without attachments, and to not tie my happiness into another person or material things. I had to learn to be whole on my own and not think of myself as a half whose mate would make her complete or whose possessions gave her value.

I’m a far cry from perfect, but every day I am redefining what perfection is to ME, from the way I dress and style my hair to the dynamics of my relationships. There is no right or wrong. It’s all perception. With this mindset comes a lack of desire to judge. I honestly don’t care how other people choose to live as long as it isn’t hurting another. We all have stories to tell, but most of us judge the books’ covers and omit the pages that make them books. My word for 2018 is fluidity.   

January 21, 2018

I laid across my bed this afternoon quietly reminiscing about lovers past and smiling at the sweet memories. They each opened worlds in me I either denied or didn’t know existed. I’m currently still not dating and have no desire for exclusivity with anyone at the moment. I don’t want to belong to anyone. I will never belong to another. I am my own person. By the same measure, no other will ever belong to me. It took me a while to learn and understand that. My possessiveness and jealousy wouldn’t allow it before, but life has a way of driving its points home.

My mother asked me, “Are you afraid of being in a relationship because you think you’ll have to change the way you dress and what you post on social media? What does posting the way you do do for you? What do you get out of that?” Her questions didn’t upset me at all. My mother always asks to gain a better understanding. She’s a Virgo as well, so I get it. I wouldn’t say I fear being in a relationship because I would have to change anything, because I wouldn’t change anything about myself unless I wanted to. I do, however, refuse to even entertain a man I felt would try to change me. If that means being alone then so be it. I refuse to be in a relationship with someone who tries to dictate to me what I can and cannot wear, who I can and cannot associate with, where I can and cannot go, what I can and cannot write about, or anything else. I honestly post for ME. I love my body, my hair, my sexiness, my sensuality, my free spiritedness, my mind, my flaws, and everything else about me. I wear what I wear, do what I do, and paint my toenails the color I like because I genuinely just like me and what I like. If anyone else happens to like it also that just makes it a bit sweeter. I don’t thirst trap. I post what’s appealing to me and what rings true for ME. I’m not out here looking to get chose or for a husband. What’s meant to be will be whether or not I’m out here dressed like a ho or covered head to toe, which I never will be, by the way. I absolutely love the female form, and find nothing wrong with its nakedness. Perverted thinking and religion have made a natural thing of beauty out to be something defiled and unholy.

I don’t know where the whole mindset of telling women they have to look, act, and dress certain ways in order to be wives as if being a wife is the be all end all of life originated, but fuck that. I’ve been married, and quite frankly I prefer being single. I don’t shun marriage at all, and if I ever do it again I would prefer it be with a man I consider my best friend, someone I can be totally naked, open, and vulnerable with, and someone who sees my freeness as something to be embraced and not shunned. I’m appreciative of people who are mature enough to accept all of me and let me be great. 

Anxiety: Beggar of Simplicity

A few days ago I was struggling with anxiety. I couldn’t understand where it was coming from and was bothered by the fact it was disrupting my already hard to come by sleep at night. The only other time I recall taking notice of anxiety was back in late 2014-early 2015 right before I was laid off my job. Back then I didn’t question what was making me anxious and panicky; I just knew I was tired of my job. On top of being sexually harassed every single day I reported to work, I felt trapped, stuck, and stagnant and as if I was wasting my life away. It never dawned on me to dig inside in an effort to find the source. Unlearned lessons are lesson repeated, right? Back to present day. Over the last two years I have been going through an entire metamorphosis of sorts: mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically, financially, etc. No part of my life has remained untouched by changes.

The other night I decided I was going to have to work things out and demand answers from God, my higher self, spirit, pray, meditate with my crystals, burn some lavender and ylang ylang, and anything else I needed to do to be okay and find answers to this anxiety thing because I didn’t like the way I was feeling. Eventually I calmed myself down and quietly asked, “What is causing this anxiety?” The answer softly replied to me was, “Money and love.” I knew exactly what that meant. Then I asked myself, “What are your heart’s truest desires?” The things that were causing the anxiety were nowhere in the answer to that. I was stressing over things that in the end didn’t even matter to the essence of who I am, things that could easily be resolved if I stopped worrying about them and followed the promptings of my heart and soul, if I started working in my purpose. When I asked what my heart’s desires were, the answer was: A home, candle making, creating bath and body products, yoga, and traveling the world helping and empowering women and girls. My heart’s desires are simple, pure. That put me at ease. The anxiety was caused by what I thought I should have but feared I would never have or have enough of. I have now started making myself enjoy and live in the moments I currently reside in and take everything one day at a time while working to provide my heart with what it wants: simplicity, beauty, and peace. The money will come, and the love was always there in many different forms. I am complete. I came here complete. Now it’s a matter of remembering who and what I was when my soul decided it was time to occupy earth and utilize the inherent power of my soul.  

When The Women Gather

I thoroughly enjoy spending time with the matriarchs of our family and just wise older women in general. My mother taught me how to be a lady along with so many other things, and I love her so much for that. I promise I could write an entire book about my mother and her ways. Truly I am the wisdom of my mother. I have an aunt, my mom’s older sister, who I will forever cherish. She was one of the only aunties I have who spent one on one time with me. She always had a dresser full of expensive perfumes that she used to let me try whenever I went over, and she bought me my first bottle of “grown up” perfume. Her style was so classy, chic, and understated. I loved watching my mother fix my auntie’s hair, and the style was always the same: a jet black mid-back length weave with a side part. Simple, classic, understated. I inherited a refined sense of style and love of beautiful healthy hair from her and my mother. I was allowed to sit in the living room and watch my mother transform her sister’s hair as I listened to them talk about life. I don’t recall any gossip about anyone, and that’s what set them apart from many other women to me. I was allowed to stay around when she visited because they weren’t talking “grown folks” business which was usually code for sex and gossip about other family members. Something magical happens when the women gather. The women in my family have a way of healing one another simply through doing women things like hair, exchanging makeup tips, complimenting how fine the other is, exaggerating about how naughty our children are, and just simply lying under each other. We learn so much from each other about life in general by simply being free to be who we are when we are together. Our gatherings are love in motion. It’s a beautiful thing to experience and be a part of.

Ramblings

I don’t know where this post is going, but I’m writing it anyway. I don’t feel the need to organize my thoughts or try to make this post linguistically ornate. It just is. That’s where my mindset is at the moment. Just is. Not good. Not bad. Not someplace in the middle. Just is.

Lately I have been feeling the need to be more transparent. Keeping it bottled up has served me no good. As I write this I am also reflecting on where the past two years have taken me. For starters I lost a really good paying job and haven’t recovered financially at all. I am currently awaiting an approval from a car dealership. I have to downgrade because I can no longer afford the car I currently drive, which is four months behind, by the way. I haven’t bought Christmas or birthday gifts in two years, and I am at the very last of the bottle of my most absolute favorite perfume. I went through a huge bout of depression because I felt my life had fallen, and I was thrown out of my comfort zone. That awakened me to just how much my ego was tied to everything I did from what I wore, drove, went, drank, etc. I had lost sight of what life was all about.

This car situation has made me question just who was I trying to impress with my life. I walked around like I had my shit together because I cleaned up nicely but was always one paycheck away from living under a damn bridge. The audacity, right?! I am literally so embarrassed of myself. I had wasted ten years of my life trying to attain stuff, thinking that proved I had made it in life, made it to where, exactly I don’t know. After the shock of having everything stripped away from me I had to come face to face with myself, and that wasn’t pretty. I didn’t even know who I was. I thought I knew, but apparently I had just been putting on. I was a mean woman who didn’t care much about the feelings of others. I couldn’t understand why other people couldn’t just go out and get a job like everyone else to make ends meet. Now, even I don’t want to just work a job. I don’t enjoy working for other people. I used to push my friends to create and do what they were naturally good at, but I didn’t even believe in myself to pursue my own creative talents and hone my crafts. I used to laugh hysterically at memes that made fun of women who were not well endowed, had hair struggles, whose makeup was deemed hideous, and a plethora of other things. I no longer find those things funny. Everything isn’t for everyone, and not everyone is supposed to walk around looking the way I think they should look. Who the hell am I to tell others how they should look and dress anyway?! Talk about having had a God complex. Good lord.

These days the woman I tried to keep suppressed has surfaced, and I have no intentions of making her go back into hiding. I am a free-love loving woman who desires neither to lead nor follow. I just want to be happy, live, and allow others that same right however they choose to live. I don’t feel the need to judge anybody for the ways they live: gay, straight, street walker, drug dealer, stay at home mother, blue collar, white collar, sexual, prude, free spirited, uptight. What you eat don’t make me shit, and who you f*ck doesn’t make me cum. Do ya thing, just make sure you are being true to yourself and occupying your time and resources with the things that really matter in life.

Peace, love, and light

-Q

Parable of the PB&J Sandwich

Last night I was awakened out of my sleep by extreme hunger. That’s been a frequent occurrence of late. I usually drink from a bottle of water kept on my desk and go back to sleep. Last night the hunger was relentless. It would not allow me to simply drink water and doze back off.

That had only happened one other time in my life. I was pregnant with my first son and famished, so I waddled to the kitchen and ate the first thing I saw, which happened to be a slice of bread. I laughed as I told my mother about my pregnancy hunger tale, but she looked incredibly sympathetically at me and said, “Poor baby, but we always have food in the house. You might have had to cook it, but there is food.” I explained to her I was so hungry I didn’t care what I ate. I just needed to sate that hunger immediately.

Last night I debated on whether or not to lie there awake and hungry or to stop being lazy and get myself food. The spirit of God gently whispered, “There is always food in the house. You simply have to heat it up or spread something onto a slice of bread. You don’t even have to cook.” I grudgingly got out of bed to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That took all of one minute. How crazy is it to grudgingly do something simple that will benefit YOU? I frowned a little because I realized there was no lemonade, so I would have to drink water. As I was leaving the kitchen I turned to see a full bottle of ginger ale. I absolutely LOVE ginger ale and had totally forgotten about it. I did a little happy dance as I poured myself a small glass of it to accompany my sandwich. Once I reached my bedroom I thought how perfectly chips would have complemented my sandwich and ginger ale. I trotted back down the stairs to grab a small serving to complete my meal. Once my hunger had been staved off I breathed deeply and lied back against my headboard, nicely satisfied and comforted. There was that gentle voice again, “Now, doesn’t it feel much better to wander off to sleep with a sated full belly?” Indeed it felt amazing. I did, however, think to myself that that bottle of water would have been enough to get me through the night.

I thought our conversation was over, but no. There that voice was again, “Just as that bottle of water would have only staved off your hunger for a few hours, so is my obligation to provide your basic needs. The water would have been enough, but it would not have filled your belly and left you aptly satisfied. Your laziness almost made you lie in misery when there was plenty to eat. All that was required was for you to either heat something up or spread something across a slice of bread. The work on your part was minimal in order to be fully satisfied. As are my promises to you, it only takes a small effort on your part to walk in fullness. Just as you thought you would have nothing to drink but water there was a full bottle of your favorite drink to partake of. Just as you were satisfied with that, you thought about how nicely chips would have added to what you already have. The sandwich is representative of my promises to you, the ginger ale my promises I’ve made to you that you have forgotten about, and just when you have enough to be well off I add blessings that compliment and complement my promises to you.”

What’s your bottle of water? Your job? Government assistance? Staying in a bad relationship because it provides your basic needs? Don’t do as I have and allow your laziness to stop you from getting all that is promised for you. Faith without works…