let's talk about sex

a conversation with myself on desire, healing, and being at home in my own body

sex

what?

i said sex.

you mean the kind that gets everyone all turned on and turned around, the kind some people don’t need but most love?

yes. that kind of sex.

so why are we talking about sex?

because it’s a hot topic.

because it feels good to write the word sex.

because…sex sex sex.

ok, i get it. you like to write the word.

but how does it make you feel, sex?

do you feel sexy saying sex over and over?

sex is tricky though, you know.

yeah, it is.

why do you think that is?

because it’s been projected as dirty?

partly, yes.

because it’s considered sinful by many religions, unless it’s for procreation?

maybe that too.

because it’s the root of our sacred power, so it’s controlled for a reason?

for sure.

because it’s intimate.

because it’s raunchy and hot and kinky and uncontrollable—how you’ll feel before, during, and after.

because you meld juices and essence.

yeah, probably all of that.

but i always knew i would talk about sex one day.

i grew up with a lot of confusion in my body.
before i had language for what had happened to me, my nervous system was already responding.
i thought that meant something was wrong with me, that i was just wired that way.

it wasn’t until much later—after loss, after memory, after healing—that i understood those responses were survival, not desire.
my body was trying to make sense of something it never chose.

once i could see that clearly, the shame began to loosen its grip.

what about men?

yeah, i had a lot of sex as a young woman with lot of horny young men. not crazy amounts, but i was open to seeing where things went—and because most men are horny, so that was often all the way.

but i never liked anal sex.

yeah, that makes sense. it can be uncomfortable.

my first love was gay, so he was very sweet but ultimately unavailable.

then there were other relationships—shorter ones, longer ones, and some one-night stands.

but sex was always performative. i could orgasm, but i couldn’t ever really relax.

not until i met my second husband, finn. being with him felt natural in a way i hadn’t known before. he was my soulmate, even though he’s passed on now.

it took finn dying and remembering my childhood trauma to understand why i always went into such hardcore fawning and pleasing mode with men.

plus our porn-heavy culture has men thinking it’s all about their cock.
wham bam, thank you ma’am.

it’s actually all about the pussy.
or it should be!

yeah, i hear you on that.

before college, i spent a gap year on an organic farm in wales.
there were young adults from all over europe working there, living close to the land and to each other.
i slept with several of them.
i also experimented on my own.
let’s just say i worked in the garden and got creative with the english cucumbers.
i remember being very horny then—curious, alive, and physical in a way that felt instinctive.

my sister-in-law got me a lemon for christmas though, and i love it.

it’s a little sex toy that looks like a lemon.
it has suction and works really well because it imitates sucking.
and it’s cute too.

i haven’t owned many sex toys.
i bought a dildo in college and named it big red.

but i ended up preferring organic objects over the plastic.

you’re so silly.
yes, i am.

my friends and i used to joke about big red.

i had a roommate in college who was always masturbating.
she’d do it up to twenty times a day—she’d just leave the conversation to go do it.

that’s kind of funny and silly too…

i know!

more often than not, many of my friends back then couldn’t even orgasm.
they never learned how. i still think it’s sad how many women have never been loved in the right way or taught how to self-pleasure.

and in a wham bam thank you ma’am culture, that’s kind of how it works.

but i could always have multiple orgasms and was really frisky in my youth, that’s a term my mom used to use. she was a midwife and a nurse in women’s health, so she was the one my friends came to for advice.

but after college, i got pregnant after moving back to the u.s. from italy.
i married, and later divorced because of domestic violence.
i fled, went into hiding for a time, and rebuilt.
i’ve written about this elsewhere.

so basically, i’ve only been with my two husbands plus one other man since i was twenty-eight.
and i’m about to be forty-eight.

only three men in two decades.
i’ve never thought about it that way before.

since finn died, i tried online dating.
it went terribly wrong.
i’ve written about that too.

lately, i think it might just be me and my lemon for a while.
maybe forever in this life.

and that actually feels good.

the orgasms are delicious.

and i get to control it all.

soft and sensual and all me.

because i’ve healed so much trauma and shame,
it feels clean.
and innocent too.

i used to fantasize about being used during sex.
i think that came from early wounding.

now i just stay with sensation.
with myself.

it’s simple, really.

i’m not lonely anymore.
and i don’t feel unworthy or lacking.

it’s just simply… here.

yeah, i bet that’s pretty awesome to feel.

it is.

and it’s enough.

i’m enough.

that’s beautiful, my love.

i think so too.

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thank you for being here, it truly means the world. i love hearing your thoughts, if you feel called to comment.

i am a writer, speaker, and musician devoted to healing and embodiment. i share essays, poetry, and original music through venus consciousness. i’d love to walk this path with you. 💞