Why I’m Tired of Spiritual, Sacred, Woo-Woo Sex


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There is a time and place for spiritual sex, for taking part in the soft, sacred energy that comes along with the erotic—tantra, cosmic orgasm, the ritualistic melding of the masculine and the feminine.

And then there’s the carnal, vulgar side of sex—the unabashed, unfiltered expressions of the erotic.

Fucking. Getting a nut. Not-doing-it-for-any-reason-than-to-get-off. Getting freaky and nasty.

I’ve designated a lot of time toward exploring sacred sex in my work and personal life, using language about the erotic that is gentle on the ears and spirit. But I’ve not given much space to the obscene, to words and expressions that denote a different, unrefined kind of sexual energy, an energy that I contain.

I think it’s because sub-consciously I’ve seen that kind of sex as inappropriate, as not as close to godliness. So I’ve shied away from writing and honoring my carnal desires, keeping from using language to adequately describe the hard-to-cuddle-up-to rawness behind the sensual because I fear the obscene. I fear what the obscene will do to me, what it will make me. I fear losing my self-respect.

Flowery words and pretty euphemisms and soft spiritual sexuality are much easier to digest.

I’ve been a notoriously sexually coy woman. I’ve consistently played down my desires in my erotic relationships to not be loud about it, to not be overbearing about it. And I’ve relied on this modest way of being for as long as I can remember—and not just in my sexual relationships, either.

It’s always felt really noble for me to be able to maintain a sense of purity and innocence in sex.

And yet.

When I want to get off, I’m not seeking porn with spiritual overtones or gentle elegance. I look for porn that is naughty and perverted. I want to get off and I want to come hard.

I don’t know why I’ve seen this as wrong or unholy.

I want to see what would happen if I get that modest, clean sexual energy I’ve been so accustomed to fall a way a bit and embrace, glorify, express, the erotically obscene. To open myself fully to my own inner perversions and the not-proper ways I experience sexual energy. To take up space as an amorous, and sometimes-explicit sexual woman.

Because maybe the obscene is actually spiritual. Maybe vulgarity can be a form of prayer. Maybe expressing the perverse can spur liberation.

Who knows, maybe I can find God while I’m busting a nut, too.

© 2018 Ev'Yan Whitney. All rights reserved.