Friday, May 18, 2012
100 Things I Never Thought I'd Tell You About Sex (The Very Tip of the Iceberg)
I wrote this two days after my first post, 100 Things I Never Thought I'd Tell You, because there was still so much left unsaid--like, a whole hemisphere (or three). The vulnerability around writing about sex (openly, explicitly, honestly) is so extreme that I understand why so few people do. But sometimes, when we begin telling our stories--when we unravel into the universe of the once hidden and disguised--we become Truth Suffragists on a mission to keep trudging forward until every last slave is free. That's where I am, friends. In a wild exploration much bigger than the 100 things below. I hope to keep unraveling here. To tell you more than I ever thought I'd have the courage to say. And to invite a space for you to do the same. I love you for being with me. Thanks.
1. We'll start at the beginning (which isn't the beginning of everything, but sometimes it feels that way).
2. When I was 13, I was raped.
3. A good friend of mine spent months on AOL Instant Messager coercing me to go with her and her then 27 year old "babysitter" for a fun experience in trying new things.
4. I lied to my parents. Probably said I was going to the movies.
5. We pulled up to the motel in his red sports car.
6. I remember the smell of his dick. The underwear I wore. The forest green silk robe I dressed myself in in the bathroom after they finished with me.
7. I had been a virgin.
8. There was nothing left undone to me after that night.
9. Sitting on the cool white toilet seat, moans in the background, I called my friend Melissa and made small talk like nothing was going on.
10. The beginning of dissociation. I didn't tell a soul about that night until 5 years later. Shame central.
11. But let's back up.
12. Because when I tell people this story so matter-of-factly they often look at me like I have a horrendous growth on my face--or terminal cancer.
13. People. I was raped. 12 years ago (and then a few more times after that).
14. I am More Common Than Cancer.
15. And definitely more common than distracting face growths.
16. There was a man who did not know what to do or where to put all that lack of power, all that had happened to him. And there was a girl who did not know how to cope with her beautiful adult body and underdeveloped emotional strength.
17. So he raped her.
18. It happened.
19. We want to villainize him. Make him a terrible person for his woundedness. I wanted to villainize myself, too. Make myself bad for my recklessness.
20. But we are all imperfect people, flawed and able to hurt others, and ourselves.
21. Regretably, that ability slips its way into sex far too often.
22. And we learn from experience not to trust the very thing that gave us life.
23. That visceral delicious act that expresses the most divine pleasure of all.
24. It becomes a power game.
25. Who can hold the most control? Who can feel the least vulnerable? Who can stay the safest?
26. When safety is our mission (because it has to be, for our health), we miss out on the ecstasy of surrender.
27. So I say this now to wake us up a little bit:
28. We are a culture that is wounded by rape.
29. Which is to say, we are culture that wounded by our grasping and lashing out for control.
30. Which is to say, we are culture thats healing and delectable joy are rooted in our practice of letting go and embracing the way things are.
31. When we argue or dismiss or diminish the inherent way of someone's being (or our own)--when we make demands on them--we are trying to arm wrestle their power, rather than play with their strengths. We are trying to beat them.
32. And when we try to beat others, or ourselves, into being something we're not, everyone loses.
33. Trust me. I've tried. On both sides.
34. But when you let out your deep needs and expression, and honor and accept what others can offer in return, or not... there's reason to feel hopeful.
35. Because you begin to see the gift.
36. The gift of someone else's entirety laid out before you.
37. Afraid, and present.
38. Wondering, Will I be good enough?
39. Wondering, Is this body the right size, the right shape, the right smell, the right touch?
40. Wondering, Can I really give what I want to give? Can this body express such wild love?
41. True sexual surrender is what I'm after.
42. It might take a spiritual awakening.
43. It might BIRTH a spiritual awakening.
44. Number 44 is a breathing break. Take it with me.
45. I wasn't even expecting to tell you that rape story.
46. If I had guessed what I would've written before I wrote this, I'd say:
47. That story about my mom walking in on me masturbating in the bathtub.
48. Or maybe the first time I was fingered, wearing overalls.
49. And definitely that it's terrifying to admit that for most of my teenage years I considered myself a closet whore for one simple reason: I was horny and thought that was Wrong.
50. Oh, the work I've done undoing the stigma around sexual desire.
51. I need another breathing break.
52. Here's what I can tell you now: Start at the root and work your way up.
53. Buy the book Anatomy of the Spirit or read the first 80 pages on google.
54. Learn shit about your shakras.
55. If you don't know what a shakra is, look it up.
56. Pay attention to where you feel pain in your body.
57. There are energetic correlations to everything.
58. And it all manifests in sex.
59. Now, we haven't really talked about sex, explicitly.
60. Don't worry. It's coming.
61. But first, a little foreplay.
62. What's your favorite position?
63. Do you prefer to be dominant or submissive?
64. Lights on or off?
65. Music or no music?
66. (Answering questions on dating websites can help you reveal a lot about your preferences and boundaries).
67. Confession: THIS FOREPLAY SUCKS.
68. Because I'm not really comfortable talking about ecstatic sex on the Internet.
69. And feeling comfortable determines a LOT. (But you definitely know THAT from experience).
70. If I'm revealing anything at all in this post, I hope it's that I am not a sexpert.
71. But that I'm letting myself be as vulnerable and not-knowing as possible.
72. And from this often core-rattling place, I'm learning entire universes in days.
73. My most liberating transformations have been my coming outs.
74. My most deepening connections with others have been during their un-closetings.
75. Would you like me to go there now?
76. To trust you enough to tell you another truth?
77. The truth is, I don't trust you.
78. The truth is, I'm still clinging to my power.
79. The truth is, I don't want to be judged.
80. The truth is, I don't want to be hurt.
81. By a stranger.
82. On the Internet.
83. Or worse, a friend.
84. Susan Piver has this awesome meditation on love and heartbreak.
85. She says the only position of power in love is as the lover.
86. As in, give your love.
87. As in, give love.
88. As in, love. (The verb).
89. I hope, somehow, this is that.
90. Even though I've stopped short of telling you everything.
91. Even though I don't trust you--all you people out there... all you Universe out there... all you Self in here--all the way.
92. I trust you enough to say this much.
93. To tell you some of my wounds and some of my learnings.
94. To stand half-naked before you and let you take me in.
95. Let you know that I believe in our collective transformation.
96. Our ecstatic healing.
97. Our many sides and expressions that are seeking us, asking to be born.
98. And that if I have one task on Earth, it just might be this:
99. To say, "Your love will be safe with me."
100. And really mean it.