We like to consider our day and age as “modern” yet we currently live in a society primarily based on extremes. On the one hand there is sexual repression, while on the other hand sex is traded to avoid solitude. Although in the past I have written about this, today I would like to write about the misconception that a woman who was abused is one who should shy away from sex; otherwise “she liked it”–the misconception that a woman who is sexually empowered is the same as a woman who is “easy”. A sexually empowered woman isn’t the same as a “girl’s gone wild” woman.
We are still living in a world where old paradigms, obsolete patriarchal concepts and ignorant prejudices are still the order of the day; all of these leads us to categorize those around us without even understanding their story, listening to them or respecting their points of view. Such judgments are usually directed at women and that is primarily why I chose to write this article; to help others learn to differentiate between “easy” and “sexually liberated”; all of this from my point of view. For this article I have extracted some paragraphs from the book I’m working on “Sins Of Our Fathers” (a story of my life but also about how all of us are flawed yet beautiful. I share from personal and clinical perspective how we tend to impose our traumas on our kids; many times without meaning to; such traumas therefore can continue being hand down from generation to generation subconsciously until we are willing to look in and break the chain). I am not here to force my opinion on you; I am simply writing from my perspective and history; you can choose to read it or you can choose to pass on it…
I never gave much importance to my sex life in terms of “first time” or its significance. Maybe it was because by the time I started thinking seriously on those terms, I had already been a victim of sexual abuse. Although sexual abuse started early in my life and continued for many years thereafter; something inside me always knew and understood the true concept and value of virginity. Without knowing the historical or philosophical meaning of the concept of virginity, I intuitively knew virginity was more than what had been stolen from me. I felt abused but in no way did I see myself as less than pure; regardless of how much others wanted me to feel that way. Virginity is not a piece of flesh, virginity is IN your soul. No one can take it and you can only give it away when you are being real with yourself and your partner about who you really are…
Although my young life started with the violations of my soul, mind and body, life’s divinity made sure to also infuse in it pleasant surprises. At a young age I had already discovered everything one could possibly discover about animalistic sex. One day I chose to stop just letting it happen and decided to take control; it didn’t stop the abuse but at least it gave me the illusion that I was in control. I stopped watching myself from afar, instead I felt like someone else; as if someone took over. Someone who was tired of being their victim, someone who knew there was no escaping it physically, so she took charge. Naturally, in my immaturity, pain and anger I then went through a period of rebellion; teasing young men but always leaving them hanging. I was labeled many things, the least offensive “easy”. Looking back at it , it’s almost laughable; the same people who called me by that label never got anywhere with me. I led them on, a few kisses and then dropped them like hot potatoes. I had learned how to arouse a man in an animalistic way yet I disliked the act; even more so the idea of doing “it” with them, for they were people who were eager to obtain only one thing; that is why I never let them have it.
I never teased anyone whom I felt was a genuinely nice human being, instead I would let them take the lead. There was something about their innocence; true innocence; not false purity or false puritan attitudes. There was something about the way they looked at life, I felt I knew them and felt as if they could see the real me. I couldn’t save myself but I was determined to save them, I wanted them to grow into MEN not into disturbed human beings…
Over time, life kept introducing me to good souls who reminded me of how much beauty there is in this world; souls who although heard so many things about me took the time to get to know me and saw the lies behind the malicious gossip. They always asked why I was so free, so rebellious, so intense. They asked why I teased people yet always seemed to “fly away” ; of course I wasn’t about to tell them what had happened and was still happening to me at that time. That was my burden to carry alone, I wanted them untainted from the ugliness which had been shown to me. My simple answer to their questions were “Don’t try to figure me out”, “There is no big mystery, I simply get bored”, “Why ruin a good thing”, “I just like to tease people, its amusing” — as I grew older, I would say “sorry but am too messed up for a relationship” If they kept pushing and kept trying to get close to me (emotionally, romantically) I would get angry. I hated the idea of them wanting to save me. What could they have done? They were idealistic young men who for some reason were able to see the person I tried to keep hidden. If they pushed too hard I would break up with them, simply walk away; anything for them not to find just how deep were my hurts and how long they had been going on.
Over time I did let a couple of men get close (maybe it was their perseverance) without revealing my secrets. Through them I learned new sensations, I discovered everything one can share with another human being united to you; simply enjoying and feeling relaxed and in the moment. I allowed my body to do everything, to feel almost everything in a totally different way than what I had experienced; I was free! I never stopped to think whether it was the right time or not, as far as I was concerned others had already taken from me what many people in their ignorance use to differentiate a “lady” from a “whore”; maybe that is why I could give myself without much reservations, except one “never fall in love”.
I like to think those where my real first times and in them lies the magic which I have protected and carried within my soul. A magic which helped carry me through the dark times. That magic saved and helped me to always focus on looking in. I knew there was more to me than this physical body; I felt free but still scare. I knew I was more than flesh yet enjoying my flesh in an entirely different way; bittersweet because at the end of it I had to return to my reality. We didn’t just share ourselves, we shared our souls; I shared everything except my love and my secrets. I shared my dreams, my hopes, some of my fears. I pushed them to look in so they would not ever lose sight of their beauty; perhaps that was my way of making sure they would not ever let ugly souls taint them, pushing them to behave like nothing more than mechanical robots. They would spend our silent times watching me dance, compose poetry, draw; other times we would hold deep conversations. I would take them to ride horses through unexplored roads or travel without a destination and simply be. When they asked for my love, I knew our time had ended. “The one that got away” is what most called me; little did they know I had save them from looking at the other side of life, where human darkness and horror hides. During my time with them I felt as if I had sheltered them, giving them fuel which I hoped they would draw from to last a lifetime. I didn’t want them to see my monsters, I wanted them pure, so they could one day change this world for the better. My time with them was pure, deep, free and simple. Little did I know those who surrounded us looked at it differently. I was the freak, the one nobody understood, the one who could go from zero to a 100 in a split second–someone perceived as cold an who must be “easy” because I dated too much; obviously that was the perception of those whom I had teased or those who didn’t know me but felt anger towards me for being the way I am. Those whom I teased and left hanging were not ever going to accept out loud they got rejected; I purposely did that to them because in my eyes they were players, users; I wanted them to hurt the way they hurt others and to learn rejection (I am not saying what I did was right but in my immaturity I felt as if I was). The perceptions those guys had was shared by the girls who saw themselves as “ladies”. Girls who saw themselves as better; better than the “freak” or “whore” they wished me to be. These were the girls whom I knew in secrecy would let those type of guys do with them far worst things than I had ever been willing to do; all of it hidden under the mask of being “pure” and “wholly”.
I learned to hide my pain. I learned not to show how much it hurt to see those so called “ladies” behave in ways which I am sure would have been appalling to their families; families who used me as an example of how not to be. It was more than frustrating to see how much those “ladies” were experts in the art of faking emotion and “class” and how stupidly others believed them. I had seen their cruel side, their callousness, their desire to tear someone else down to make themselves feel better. I wanted to run to tell my grandparents but I couldn’t. They were old; although I knew they would have given their lives for mine, I wanted to shelter them. I was already thankful for them and for every other soul in my life who brought some healing. Those souls didn’t know they had given me a gift which I valued, I was not going to ask for more…everyone saw me as strong, so I had to be….
Although sex was known to me from a very early age, my interactions with the ones I had chosen were pure and free. At those moments I did not feel “damaged” or a “freak” in any way. You can’t tell me that sex; the pure union between two people; is sick or evil. With the ones I chose to share myself with I was sexually liberated. I wasn’t seeking sex for the sake of not feeling lonely; God knows I have mastered the art of enjoying my solitude; it was more than that. “Easy” I wasn’t. “Sexually Liberated” with those “I” chose, I certainly was. No matter how others like to perceive me, through my life I’ve never chosen people to simply flatter my ego, I chose unique souls who brought something special to my life and I to theirs.
As I grew from girl to woman this “sacredness” of sexuality was still of little concern to me, maybe because up to that point I had not had any stable “relationship”. Maybe that is why I enjoyed the few interactions I had without so much prejudices or mental burdens. I found Tantra or rather Tantra found me, and I submerged myself in its waters; it help me understand those interactions and realize I was more than just the flesh. I liked everything that had to do with the beauty of sex; I was comfortable and free. Those whom I had chosen to share myself with, had shown me love, respect, affection, integrity (by its real definition) and a beauty of soul. I know they felt the same about me; that was an added bonus!
When it came to my sexual life; those who surrounded me had no idea who I was; they saw me as a an extreme sexual liberal based on my opinions and back then my polyamory life style (Not to be confused with promiscuities). Those who were envious of me or who sought someone else to blame for the shackles they themselves imposed on their lives in order to be popular an accepted; those called me “whore”. The first kept urging me to be more sexually responsible with my actions. Over time I started to get tired yet filled with their prejudices and old ideas of what a moral human being was supposed to be. I couldn’t understand why “moral image” was actually more important than being a “genuinely good human being”. Why did I have to feel bad to have these romantic relationships (most of them were not sexual) when we had shared a pure love? By then I felt I had escaped the horrors of my earlier years; why did I have to feel ashamed because I couldn’t do a monogamous relationship? Is not as if behaved “shamelessly” in public nor was I promiscuous yet that wasn’t enough– when I felt hurt or triggered I drank too much but I wasn’t out there trying to get laid. I was doing what my heart felt, I was being honest with my emotions, comfortable and felt free. I was enjoying the moment and if I chose to share my body I did so with responsibility towards it and my inner self. I knew soon I would end it, so I let myself be…
After so much prejudices and constant negative talk about my self image I came to understand that society didn’t want or accepted real. They wanted the lies, the false saints. They wanted those who pretended to be good yet secretly hurt others, those who help not because they feel the need to but because it makes them popular or on the other hand, they would tolerate those who were immature with their sexuality, always seeking approval–No, they didn’t want real. I finally understood the reality about those people, the ones with the masks where the ones who had labeled me “easy”. I have never met someone “Real” who ever saw me that way, then again they took the time to get to know me! Although they were a puzzle to me, I tried to understand those with the masks; on the one hand they judged me on the other they did not dare say out loud they wanted to enjoy their sexuality to the fullest.
After so much judgment I came to the conclusion that some people think and talk too much; the worst part is they talk without knowledge or truth. After so much of their ignorance and other life’s setbacks, I let myself change. Fed up with comments and prejudices, I got into a “traditional” relationship where neither one of us could be ourselves; I did it until I could do it no more. I left that relationship confused and battered. I had spent years fitting in yet I was unhappy. Ending that was hard because I had to listen to even more judgement; people didn’t want the real me, they wanted the fake person even if I was unhappy. I made a decision to stand my ground and go back to getting in touch with myself, to start working on my traumas and to face my wounds rather than to ran away from them. I made the choice not to hide my imperfections but to show them. There were times I felt deeply wounded by life, that is until I met the man meant to be in my life. Our road hasn’t been easy but I told him everything about me, the good, the bad, the ugly, all the wounds, mistakes, traumas, dreams–all of it and in return he shared back; he let me into places in his mind and spirit no one else had gone before. Funny how after having ran away from those who wanted to get close to me, life sent me someone who refused to be sent away. Someone who although didn’t have the exact same wounds as I did, tries his best to understand me and I him.
After telling him all which had happened to me and all which I brought on myself, he immediately told me how I enjoy my sexuality and who I am has nothing to do with being “easy”. Quite the contrary he perceives in me someone who knows how to let go but who doesn’t let sex run her life. I was just a person who knew my likes and my limits, therefore I enjoy my sexuality completely with freedom and balance; it was my way of saying “Fuck you, you didn’t take this from me” to the sick bastards who did what they did. It is with my partner with whom I’ve learned to give myself permission to be me again, to enjoy my sexuality and my own unique way of thinking and being.
I gave myself permission to once more enjoy and explore my sexuality with someone who knows me and loves me. I am once more living letting my heart dictate a great portion of my life yet I integrated some of the old lessons by learning to truly respect myself; not just in a superficial way.
I have learned that NOBODY has the right to label you or to put you in a box. We are each responsible for what we do and in what way. You make your own choices; is not about pleasing others, is about the intention within your heart and whether or not you can live with the consequences. No one can tell you how to live, only YOU know what makes your heart sing. You are not a cookie cut version of a human being; we are all united yes but we are also unique expressions of life. Only You can be the owner of your emotions and your body. If you enjoy sexuality do so without guilt; as long as you are not hurting yourself or someone else, as long as you area not doing it in order to keep someone, to fill your time, to get approval or anything that leaves you feeling depleted rather than leaving you feeling fueled and without guilt; then you have nothing to apologize for. After all of my experiences and all the labels, I now embrace myself. I know I am an intelligent person who is a good soul, not perfect; have made plenty of mistakes; and am still working on my flaws but I don’t pretend to be someone I am not for the sake of anyone’s approval.
Do not waste your time living your life dancing to the sound of those who are full of doubt, fear, envy. They are the ones who will always have a label, who will always seek to put someone else down so they may look better, the ones who will always have an “I told you so” or “you can’t”.…what are they trying to say? that we are not worthy to be ourselves? I say that is B.S ...I am worthy , YOU are worthy…why? because as one of my favorite quote says ” BECAUSE I AM STARDUST. I DO EPIC COSMIC SHIT!”
“To have animalistic sex is to empty the body. To make love like a skillful lover is to fill the soul”