Do you want to know one of my favorite places in my house? It’s my bathroom. One might find this a bit strange, but let me take a moment to explain. In my bathroom, there is a corkboard where I keep little notes that the people closest to me have written. I get letters and cards throughout the year, but you have to be at a certain level with me to truly make it to the bathroom corkboard. It’s an honor reserved for those that I want their loving voices with me throughout the day and to boost me up on those days when I need boosting. In these letters and notes on this corkboard are mainly short messages that remind me that I am loved and cared about. There really are no ten-page letters of heart dripping vulnerability. Nope, these messages look more like, “I love you. You are beautiful, amazing, courageous, and funny.” Every morning when I am doing my morning routine, and throughout the day whenever I need to go into the bathroom, I get to look at these messages and occasionally will send off some energetic gratitude to the people that wrote the notes. I tell you this because these small scraps of paper on my wall are big things in my heart. They are little things, but they are, on some days, everything! Read more
From the time I was 10 years-old until I was in my twenties, I fought a bloody battle with my own body, which manifested as anorexia and bulimia. I spent 15 years in what can only be described as a hell of my own body but more than anything, a place where I was a prisoner of my own mind. I was blessed, however, to get help and eventually fully recover. I learned to come to a place of peace with my body and formed an essence of neutrality. I no longer put effort into trying to lose weight because I knew this was a slippery slop to relapse. Through the years of recovery it became apparent that I needed to work on my past sexual trauma that was keeping me stuck in not only a war against my body but in many areas of my life, especially my sexuality. I would later learn that most individuals with eating disorders also have some difficulties with their sexuality in some form or fashion. I went to therapy religiously and pushed myself to open up internal boxes that I had bolted shut. The deeper I dug the more disgusted I found for my sexuality and the more my body shut down physically.
If you know me, then you know I adore music and have different artists for every mood. Music inspires my body and soul, and today, I am in a very soulful mood. I lie here in the grass on a beautiful spring day as the sun shines through my strawberry blonde hair and onto my pale white skin. Then my music library shuffles to Dave Matthews Band and the song “Dreamgirl” begins my turn-on, and then continues with “Crash Into Me.” Both of which make my soul sing with desire and orgasmic energy. It feels very fitting for this divine moment. I start singing along and thinking about how EVERY woman should have at least one man, if not more, in her life that looks at her this way. I close my eyes and dream of one of my lovers sitting next to me and staring at me with a mischievous boyish grin of desire and hope. Taking in not only the sun reflecting off of my body, but also looking deep into my soul to see all the beautiful little messy parts of me that he adores. It brings a beautiful smile to my face. I start to dream of my “Dream-man” where we continually and playfully ‘crash’ together! Chasing after one another in an animalistic playful way that is also sensual, where we are eating each other up, and can’t get enough at that moment.
My cheeks are flushed, my body is radiating heat, and little moans escape my lips. His breath is heavy on my neck as we dive deeper and deeper into a state of passion. The little moans escaping my lips tell him that I am enjoying his touch and he sporadically shares little insights of enjoyment… “Oh, yes,” “You’re amazing,” “Oh, right there,” as I watch his body tremble over and over again with orgasmic energy. As we continue in our play, he enters a state of deep intensity and shifts my positioning. We are in the midst of a passionate animalistic moment when all of a sudden I find myself taken from bliss quickly to severe pain. “Oww! That really hurts. You feel fucking amazing but that’s too deep.” We take a second and try moving slower and less deep but the angle simply isn’t working for my body today. He rapidly switches my position again and we fast approach a deeper state of intimacy. At one point our moans, heavy breath, and sighs are the only form of communication as we are so close that our bodies could melt into each other. We stop several times in our hours of sexing between orgasms to talk with each other about life and our turn-ons… what we like, what we don’t like, and even share a few fantasies until we end the night in a beautiful silence that says more than any words could say.
We learn early on that that sex can lead to unwanted pregnancies and STD/STIs. Schools do a wonderful job at scaring us from having sex when we’re younger by showing us images of genitals infected with diseases, the negative effects of an unwanted pregnancy, and the staggering statistics about both. I am an advocate for engaging in safe sexual practices and think it’s essential in a healthy adult relationship and as a responsible individual. One surefire way to kill any sex life or relationship is to get an incurable STD. However, what we don’t learn about as children is the other ways in which sex can be dangerous…. or amazing!
I receive the text message long before we are even supposed to meet… he is excited to see me and thinking about the upcoming meeting. I’m getting turned on mentally in that moment, and slowly, anticipation starts to build. By the time I arrive at our meeting place I have passed arousal and made it to a sense of nervousness. I know this man, but in the past we have only shared a few hot kisses. We begin the evening with a luxurious glass of wine, sitting on the floor and casually talking about our days.
As I sit here in my car in the hot Texas summer, I have a sense of peace in my heart. I look out the car window and am amazed at the beautiful green trees that stand resilient against the beating heat. If you look hard enough you can see a pure white aura glowing from their steady statures. Around is a dazzling blue cornflower blue sky with white puffy clouds that make me want to dive into their marshmallow-ness. Even the soft breeze that blows through my window and dance across my skin takes strands of my hair off on a miniature dance.
I wrote the below article a while back and it was never intended to be published. I wrote it for myself and my own growth process and to acknowledge where I was on my journey. However, today my spirit is telling me that it needs to be seen. I need to allow myself to be seen. Whenever a beautiful soul comes in for a coaching session or a tantra session they are opening themselves up and becoming truly naked and exposed and so I am offering you a bit of me “naked”. Thankfully I have grown and changed since writing this but the below is an old fragment of my journey and meanderings on the power of sex. To read the original article that this is based on please go to: http://mytinysecrets.com/the-under-fked-pussy-epidemic-every-women-need-to-read-this/
My pussy speaks to me. It has a voice. At times in my life this voice has been almost inaudible while at other times it has been loud and robust. Years ago I worked very hard to silence this part of me that was connected on a soul level. The connection felt too much, too intense, and too open. Through my awakening to different sexuality practices I have reconnected with that primal area. However, despite any attempts to ever silence my pussy it continues to speak to me whether I am listening or not, and when I am not listening my pussy finds a way to make me pay attention! During these times of disconnection I feel lost and uncertain about my life and overall ungrounded-ness when not connected to my source energy. When I am connected I feel alive, I know where I am headed in life, I have energy, and every nuance of life is deeply felt and blissful.