The first time I gave someone a blowjob, while I do remember feeling pressured into it, mostly what I remember is calling one of my friends after sobbing because I felt so guilty for even being sexual at all and that was at 21. From the time I was very young modest attire and sexual abstinence was held up as the highest of virtues for a woman. I was someone who by the age of eleven was already beginning to curve into the shape of a woman and I observed the boys beginning to notice this change despite how I dressed. Then it would seem that the grownups around me noticed also… I started receiving books about “purity” in my church mailbox, when to my knowledge none of my friends did. Was there something about me that screamed “future slut”?
Needless to say, that along with the fact that my body also didn’t seem to be able to fit into the ideas of secular world where the woman I saw being glorified were a size zero, tan, with perfectly pouty lips, sex kitten eyes, the perfect ratio of butt/waist/breasts, and had legs that felt like they were longer than I was tall, made it incredibly hard to find comfort in my own skin.
I have been inspired this year to confront and work to defeat this negative body image and stigma in regards to sexuality. This is my time to embrace my skin and the reality that I am a sexual being, and that is not something to be ashamed of. Nor am I responsible for how anyone else looks at my body. Part of this journey was letting go of all of the negative things I was taught about sexuality and allowing myself to find out what it means just for me. While another part was taking off my clothes and allowing someone to photograph me and not judging myself so critically about the supposed imperfections. The biggest part was the epiphany that is revealed in the below poem, which I read at Kafé Kerouac at their open mic Writer’s Block poetry night last night. I was so nervous I was shaking like a leaf, but these people made me feel so comfortable and welcome. So grateful I was brave enough and bold enough to take the mic and share the space with these wonderfully creative people.
My Body, The Temple
You told me that my body was holy, a temple for the divine.
But don’t you dare decorate those walls, tattoos are sinful.
And jewelry or makeup, well is a distraction from what I was intended to be.
I guess god’s not a fan of art, and he doesn’t want any embellishments on his “masterpiece”.
But then you told me that body was a gift for my husband.
Some mythical man, who was going to save me from spinsterhood.
To give my life it’s only possible purpose by becoming a wife and a mother.
And the greatest gift I could possibly give him on our wedding night was an intact hymen.
You made my body a conversation piece from the time it began to curve into the body of a woman.
You told me to hide it away, that uncovered it was something to be ashamed of.
You told me my body was a distraction, that the boys couldn’t help but to look and to lust.
And yet, I was the one that was too irrational? And yet, I’m the one unfit to lead?
But you never said it was mine, you never told me what it was capable of.
Or what this world would constantly subject it to.
You never said I would have to fight every day for my right to take up space in this world.
You never even said I had the right to take up take up space in this world
As I grew older I discovered your lies, the universe revealed it’s truth to me as it does
That, I am a “universe, wrapped in skin”, capable of birthing a soul into this realm
From the blood of a woman, all men have been baptized.
There are parts of my body, created only for pleasure. What man can say that?
I have taken my skin for granted, called my flesh a prison
People have taken a piece, a part that was not theirs’s to have
It’s been battered and bruised, but still it survives
My mind is my core and expression comes from my spirit, but I’ve neglected this body that should be my home.
I exist as a trinity, mind, spirit, and body
Every one of these facets of my being should be aligned
When they are, that is when I am at my best.
So, I’m done being at war with my body
I’m done with the shame you have tried to heap on me, that I have heaped on me
Every scar, stretch mark, freckle, wrinkle or hair, it is all a testament to the road I have traveled
This body is a map of that journey, so whether I modify some part or let it do its‘ thing, it’s worthy of love
It’s a flawed vessel but it got me here and I will no longer apologize or show disdain for any part of this flesh that contains my soul.
But when it’s all said and done… I guess you were right about one thing, this body is a temple, my temple.
And I am a mother fucking goddess.
And I will decorate these walls anyway I god damn please.
And I will share it whenever I want to, or not. Either way the choice is mine alone.
So now, I have learned that must everyday bow down before and worship the god in me.
I present two of my favorite pictures from the shoot. I really have come to love my body more, and no, I’m not there perfectly, but I am much happier with who I am than I think I have ever been before.
Special Thanks: Tanis Clay thank you so much for the wonder makeup look and to Jean the photographer from All Things Boudoir for making me feel so comfortable and beautiful! Also thanks to Connie Winch for showing up and helping me be brave at the reading and also recording it for me.
With love and hope,