On Discovering My Sexual Orientation

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I had a crush on a girl once.

She had hair the color of a reddened sunset & eyes like blue-tinted glass. She was feminine, assertive, audacious — all the things that were lying dormant within myself. She spoke of eroticism, sensuality, feminism. She influenced me to enjoy wine, to buy lacy underthings, to embrace my inner femininity, a side of me that felt cut out since I shaved my head. She called me nicknames. She inspired me to write boldly & courageously. We collaborated on ideas & encouraged each other’s work. She fed my creative expression.

She was June & I was Anais.

Thousands of miles separated us, but distance couldn’t stifle our chemistry, our connection. It was instantaneous, my affection for her. I truly couldn’t help it. She was the type of woman that electrifies you, where people fall in love (or lust) just at the sight of her. She possessed a spirit that enticed you, took you in, made you feel comfortable, worthy, adored.

I truly couldn’t help it.

In the dark of the night I would think of her. I filled pages in my diary about her, craving to know every part of her mind. I wanted to be her; to embody her essence, her sex, her light. And in the midst of all of these things I was terribly shy, incredibly apprehensive, for I knew that there would be consequences to my silly, whimsical fantasies. And they really were silly. And unexpected. And improper. And contradictory. But none of that really mattered.

I was lovesick.

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Written on April 28, 2011 in Self-Discovery, Sex + Sexuality | 63 Comments

Do Something That Scares You

I’ve spent the last three years of my life trying to come out of a shell that was created & hardened by anxiety. Since then, I’ve been obliterating fear-induced walls, stepping past my deepest comfort zones, & trying with all of my might to become more brave, more free.

I am wholly dedicated to my mission to push myself into doing things that make me feel outwardly awkward, uncomfortable, & a little frightened.

Signing up to & attending my very first pole dancing class was one of those things.

Pole dancing is something I’ve always wanted to try, but I never made an effort to put that desire into action. There was always multiple excuses as to why I shouldn’t endeavor in a class: the studio was too far, the sessions were too expensive, I didn’t have the right clothes/body/sex appeal, I was too much of an introvert, & on & on.

The silly excuses appeared to mean well, but only stifled my longing.

And then I moved to Portland, where I’ve proven to myself how capable I am of being perpetually courageous: going downtown all by myself to have coffee with a very new friend; using public transportation for the first time; realizing & acknowledging that my sexual orientation has shifted; taking the initiative to do what I love… All of these things would have never gotten accomplished in my solid state of nervousness & self-doubt. But I’ve done them, & I continue to do them because it feels deliciously good to push my own limits.

Since I’ve been on such a positive roll, I decided that it was finally time to take a class to teach me how to writhe seductively on a metal pole amongst a room of strangers.

As I started my car to begin a drive along freeways & intersections I had never ventured on, I felt empowered. I was really going through with it.

When I arrived at the class & stood near my respective pole, my nerves began to buzz loudly in my ear & I could feel my palms start to sweat. This was really happening.

Throughout the entire class, my whole body shook in nervousness as I did the best I could to loosen up, trust my body, & stick out my ass in ways that would entice potential onlookers. I felt timid inferiority as I watched my gorgeous instructor lift herself onto the golden pole effortlessly & gracefully. I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror as I tried to mimic her movements, stumbling, hesitating, gripping the pole like I was going to plunge to my death.

I wasn’t graceful. I wasn’t erotic. My lanky body was discombobulated, out of shape. I was sweating, giggling nervously as I failed yet over & over to attain enough coordination so that I could spin around the pole using only my knees to balance. I felt super exposed, super awkward. I looked ridiculous; I felt a little moronic.

But as the class ended & I walked to my car, wiping sweat from my brow, I evaluated all of those emotions I had felt: vulnerability, fear, borderline humiliation, jittery excitement. And then I smiled because I had finally done something I had always wanted to do; I had felt the fear & did it anyway; & despite my horrendous lack of expertise, I fucking pole danced!

I felt splendid. I felt liberated. I basked in the glory of my own courage for the entire drive home.

I am still basking in it.

I know that it’s much easier to stay dormant, to live a predictable life as a hermit crab, snug in a shell of security. I understand how much better it feels to maintain a safe existence, one that shelters you from embarrassment, rather than propelling you into the unknown. I am all too familiar with feelings of self-doubt that hinders you from doing what you really want to do.

And there is nothing wrong with those feelings; there is nothing wrong with protecting yourself from humiliation. But I am here to remind you that you house an ability within you to surpass your own limitations & to excel in things your mind is too shy to dream of. In trying new things & endeavoring in new experiences, you are enriching your spirit; you are taking full advantage of this beautiful life you’re living.

You’re worthy of exhilarating adventures. Don’t let your timid, self-conscious ego tell you otherwise.

So do something that scares you. Ask your crush on a date. Go bungee jumping. Take a road trip alone. Try a hobby you have no experience in. Make new friends. Go karaoke. Do one thing that scares you once a week, twice a month, three times a day — anything to annihilate your comfort zones.

And when the fear feels like it’s trying to cripple you from succeeding, lean into it. Remind yourself that all of the uncomfortable things you’re feeling are just mere side effects of your being incredible in the present moment.

After completing your mission, congratulate yourself. Even if you failed, even if you stumbled, even if your efforts were laced with several ounces of hesitation, be proud of yourself because you felt the fear & did it anyway.

Written on April 26, 2011 in Liberation | 23 Comments

Sex is an All Encompassing Word

Sex is rubbing cold noses together at a crowded bus stop.

Sex is a hand grazing your most precious pleasure spot, caressing until your body convulses in ecstasy.

Sex is running barefoot through a desolate forest, indulging in the feel of mud between your toes.

Sex is massages, embraces, gropings, glances.

Sex is gender & orientation.

Sex is chocolate.

Sex is that moment when two bodies crash into each other in a paroxysm of lust & uninhibited desire.

Sex is snuggling nude underneath a knitted blanket, with candlelight illuminating your shoulders.

Sex is fondling in the backseat of a beat up car; tongues darting, windows fogged, & hips humping.

Sex is songwriting, letter-writing, diary-writing, dream-weaving

Sex is interpenetration, flagellation, bondage.

Sex is fire.

Sex is gyrating to bass-filled music in the middle of a dance floor.

Sex is the inception of each new moment, the erotic union of the physical & non-physical.

Sex is intimacy, vulnerability, submission, connection.

Sex is an endless dance of the universe.

Sex is poetry.

 

Sex is open to interpretation

Sex cannot be constricted by any one definition.

 

Sex is an all encompassing word.

Written on April 22, 2011 in Sex + Sexuality |

The Splendor of Total Vulnerability

When was the last time you felt totally vulnerable? When was the last time you let your skin crawl with discomfort as you told of how you really feel? When was the last time you surrendered to unguardedness?

There is so much power in vulnerability, so much beauty, so much bravery.

In vulnerability, we are wide open, almost to the point of splitting ourselves in half. In vulnerability, we succumb to our inner truths & live them unabashedly; we have no choice but to do this. In vulnerability, we are fully intimate with life; we let in feelings & experiences to enrich our minds, practically drenching them.

In vulnerability, we are hypersensitive, hyperintuitive, & vividly conscious.

In vulnerability, we influence others to be just as open, which creates a gorgeous kind of domino effect of brazen authenticity.

How often do you practice vulnerability?

We’ve been conditioned to take our hearts off of their respective sleeves & close ourselves off to shield us from potential hurt. We only allow ourselves to be defenseless with a small selection of people. Or perhaps none at all. Perhaps we are not even vulnerable with ourselves, the thought of which lockens our jaws.

There is a great fear of vulnerability amongst us. People don’t want us to be vulnerable because they’re afraid of the feelings it elicits within themselves. Our susceptibility makes them uncomfortable; it reminds them of their own cold hearts.

And even within ourselves, we hear brisk voices whispering in our ears: No no, don’t say too much. Don’t be too trusting. Keep your emotions at arm’s distance. Don’t express your heart’s desire.

But I cannot be any other way.

I was born with my heart wide open. I came into this world with an innate ability to empathize, to switch wavelengths in order to reach & be reached by others, & I tap into this source when I write, speak, & listen.

I am nothing without my capacity to be utterly vulnerable.

Neither are you.

I’m not suggesting that we become doormats for the feet of others to stand on, or that we let our sometimes flighty feelings take precedence over our intelligence.

I am merely stressing the importance of being vulnerable. Of wearing your heart on your sleeve. Of channeling your emotions & manifesting them out into the open.

Today, I prompt you to be vulnerable. Write in your diary. Get your photograph taken. Compliment a stranger. Say what you really feel. Go out of the house without wearing a smudge of makeup. Meditate. Admit a fantasy, a secret, a failure, an embarrassment, to a friend, to your lover, or in the comments section below.

Above all things, remember that when you are consciously vulnerable you are not open to attack; you are simply open & you are susceptible to amazing things because of it.

Here are some recent examples of my own vulnerability:

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Written on April 20, 2011 in Liberation, Self-Discovery | 13 Comments

Conversations in the Bedroom: Lust

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(Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had have come from the confines of my bedroom. This is one of them.)

It was exactly 11:37 in the evening. We were laying in bed facing each other, my legs intertwined with his, his calves warming my popsicle toes. His eyes penetrated mine, prompting me to tell him what I was thinking, so I told him that I wanted to write.

“So, write,” he said calmly.

“But I don’t know what to write about,” I complained. “What should I write about?”

He leaned in close, his gaze telegraphing his next move (a kiss) before answering, “Lust. Write about lust.”

In the midst of his kisses, I laughed. “I don’t know the first thing about lust! I couldn’t write about that.” I paused. “How about you tell me about lust.”

He turned over on his back with one arm above his head, took in a deep breath, & let it out slowly. His face turned pensive as he chose his words carefully.

“Lust is carnal,” he said slowly, almost whispering. “It is that primal part of you that contains an instinct that cannot be controlled; one that overtakes you & entices you to succumb to pleasure.” He stopped to look at me, & without saying a word I urged him to go on.

“Lust is instinctual, uninhibited, biological. It reminds us that we are erotic beings.” He stopped to look at me again, the substance of his words hanging over our heads. The expression on my face must have suggested skepticism or confusion because he asked me what I thought of all that.

“That’s heavy,” I said. And then I began to let my thoughts form themselves. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt lustful. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to surrender to it. I don’t really know what lust is.”

“Would you like me to show you?” he asked, his eyes dancing. I laughed, telling him jokingly that I was afraid of what that entailed. “I want to show you,” he insisted. He propped himself on his elbows & began inching closer to me, a small smile on his face.

“Close your eyes & lay on your back,” he murmured. I did. After a small wait, he then planted a kiss on my lips so passionate that the pit of my stomach began to sway & I felt my head grow fuzzy. What happened next would constitute as an embodiment of lust, but I didn’t come to realize that until later, after our bodies were bathing in the afterglow of glorious sex & attraction.

As we lied together in our secondhand bed, the warmth of the light on my nightstand cascading over our flushed faces, I finally grasped the concept of lust.

I think lust is that natural piece of you that prompts you to act on your sexual urges, which therefore liberates every bone in your body to really embrace what you’re feeling.

Lust is darting tongues & thrusting bodies. It is also sweet whisperings & lightweight kisses. Lust can be bitter, sweet, & bittersweet.

Lust is a natural rhythm, an unpersonified, undivided, unrefined expression of your sexual expression. It is not a deadly sin or an act of wickedness. On the contrary, lust is one of the best ways to step closer to divinity.

And its actions speak better than words.

My challenge for you: Be lustful. Listen to your body’s urges when it comes to pleasure, & then act on them. Get lost in kisses & embraces. Turn off your logical mind & let your sensuality do talking & thinking. Dare yourself to be bolder in your sexual expression; don’t suffice it. Lust after your lover; think dirty thoughts. Let your entire self succumb to lustfulness. And when it’s all said & done, bathe in its afterglow.

Never, ever apologize (or feel guilty) for feeling lustful.

 

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Written on April 14, 2011 in Liberation, Sex + Sexuality | 33 Comments

Believe Those Honeyed Words

I do not know how to take a compliment.

Of all the wonderful things that are said to me on a daily basis — through fan mail, through passersby admirations, through flattering remarks my husband whispers in our bedroom — I don’t truly believe them. It’s as though a part of me is not able to fully comprehend the concept of those kind words. Positive declarations, it seems, are not completely absorbed into my brain; the moment they escape the mouths of sweet citizens of humanity they become lost in translation, their gorgeous syllables diminished to meaningless utterings.

Yet… when it comes to criticism, I practically swallow those statements whole, thoroughly believing & latching onto the idea that I am not worthy. Insults are accepted into my subconscious without hesitation. I completely trust in those words, which further reinforces my deepest insecurities.

I do not know how take a compliment, but when it comes to disparagement I am a seasoned receiver.

I want to change this.

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Written on April 7, 2011 in Liberation, Self-Love | 31 Comments

A Simple Reminder to Be Kind to Yourself

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Kindness is something that comes quite natural to me. I give warmth & friendliness to all that is around me, offering smiles for the weary & a listening ear to those who are feeling overwhelmed. Being loving & giving my whole self to others is part of my disposition. I feel the most joy when I know I am making others happy.

But in my efforts to be a little ray of sunshine to others, I somehow always forget to be kind to my own self, as though the well being of perfect strangers is more important than the inner contentment of myself.

I’ve been especially hard on myself for the last few days. I feel like I am not writing enough, not being productive enough. I reprimand myself for making simple mistakes, like fudging a dinner recipe or saying the wrong thing in a conversation. In these moments, I am terribly unkind to myself, which in turn riles me up, depletes my creativity, & transforms my friendly demeanor into pitiful self loathing.

Last night I found myself feeling particularly overwhelmed with thoughts of disappointment & annoyance with all of things I didn’t do that day. As my mind muddled itself with terrible, incessant thoughts — Shame on you! You are no good! You are a failure! You don’t deserve happiness or relaxation today! — I felt my hand clench into a fist. I decided I had heard enough.

So I took a very deep breath, let it out slowly, & whispered firmly, Stop.

And just like that, the negative thoughts dwindled into nothingness & my mind settled down to a halt.

Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to listen to the hurtful nonsense that goes on inside of my head, & that I can give myself permission to put an end to it. The moment I remind myself of my power is the moment those wretched thoughts become weak & meaningless. It is then that I can let the kindness seep in & penetrate my mind with unadulterated love & friendliness.

That is the way life should be lived: with your head buzzing with kindness for yourself.

Today, I want to remind you to be perpetually kind to yourself. Be loving, be friendly. Devote an entire page in your diary to how wonderful you are; brag on your talents & beauty. Give yourself leeway to make mistakes & do not dwell on them. Remind yourself of your power over your thoughts & take advantage of that. You do not (& should not) have to listen to the endless cycle of insults that goes on inside of your head. Tune them out or simply tell them to shut up. Go on with your day in a blissful state of self-consciousness & self kindness.

Treat yourself the way you want to be treated.

Written on April 5, 2011 in Liberation, Self-Love | 16 Comments
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