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As of late, I have been nourishing my sexuality. Yes again – with new fervor.  Flowing with the seasons in my spirit, my dark divine is waking from hibernation and my sensuality is starving. 

I’ve pondered the power of my sexuality. It’s in rhythm with the tide’s flux and the moon’s phases. Despite my mind’s maladjustments, my sensuality is omnipresent and often the single emotion that keeps me tethered to my Piscean nature, remaining a temptress, a hopeless romantic for humanity. 

Furthermore, being a sensual woman reminds me that I exist because I chose a human experience filled with beauty and be unafraid of the dark.

My sexuality is more than a display of power. She is the strength I summon when heartbroken. This provocation of my sexual allure mirrors my inner wild. It’s commanding; the driving force of my magic. She is the power of manifestation. 

And, as I further ponder the origins that make up all the pieces of my soul, I wonder where such confidence, such courage comes from when just a few years ago, I was so ashamed of my body and desires, I kept them behind the walls of my mind palace until my dark divine broke free from her bondage, embraced me with her chaos and then settled down for another slumber.

If I was ever asked when the first time my carnal prowess was unleashed; I’d tell them as I am telling you now about when I recited Phenomenal Women by Maya Angelou

That was certainly one of the first times. I was whatever age you are when in fifth grade. I don’t remember what the assignment was for but, my class was to get into groups of three, select a poem to recite in front of the rest of the school, and welcome family members. We were not allowed to read from any source but, memorize a lengthy poem and add props, and light costumes. 

I know I was the one who found and chose Phenomenal Woman. I found it edgy. Up until that point, I was just a scruffy-haired, crooked-toothed, and lanky adolescent but, I wanted to be beautiful and commanding the way Maya described and I didn’t want to wait to be a grown-up before expressing what I felt when rehearsing the poem with my two classmates. I already had sprouted tits and body hair and shaved my legs a few times. I already knew being a woman was delicious even though my body was but a developing child’s, my dark divine found a way to pull my strings.

When it came time for the dress rehearsal, I felt eager to show off the way we were able to swing our hips and flash our smiles – though mine was mottled then, I didn’t care. I had on shiny lip gloss and had my blouse tied into a mid-drift. My classmates too had side ponytails and vibrant makeup. I remember one of their mothers was a beautiful black woman, a model too and she was the one who was our biggest fan. She showed us how to walk a stage with our hands on our hips and swing our steps and display our femme to the fullest. She was proud and didn’t once sexualize the three young girls stepping into their power through poetry.

Unfortunately, the participating teachers didn’t love our poem of choice. They pointed out sections of the poem but, it was the following that was forced to be omitted;

The teachers were concerned the entire poem was too “adult-ish” and too provocative for a trio of ten-year-old girls. It was too late to memorize another poem and we were not to be removed from the program.

But thanks to my classmate’s mom a compromise was met, we were asked to untie our shirts, and show no skin. We were to omit the line about the ride of our breasts and not swing our hips. I was disheartened but understood that saying breasts in front of younger children would distract from the performance but, I enjoyed the way my blooming sexuality, was already distressing people.

When the time came for our performance, we did omit the line about boobs but, kept the swing of our hips in. I will never forget the applause because my divine took control of my body, and my mind, and what a display of power it was to feel and absorb. And, we didn’t get in trouble for the swing of our hips, the performance was too strong for any further criticism. It was too powerful.

As I grew, attempts were made to suppress my growing sexuality and anything that drew attention to me sexually. My mother would tell my friends how I used to hump the floor as a child to embarrass me into submission. She wouldn’t allow me to wear make-up, spaghetti strap tops, or two-piece bikinis because of the size of my breasts and to not draw the attention of perverted men. She made fun of my breast size when bra shopping, and told me I got them from my biological dad’s side of the family which consisted of many tall and thick women with big boobies. 

However, she couldn’t suppress my inner wild. I was an ugly adolescent but as I developed into a teenager, I found confidence in pretty girl shit. Wearing makeup and accentuating my curves made me feel strong and confident. That’s when I started to shoplift make-up and even clothes to accentuate my raging divine. I would apply my make-up and put on my daisy dukes and crop tops on the way to school then take it all off and return the unkept slob my mom sent me to school as. and  I didn’t do it for attention the way my mother always made it seem – as if seeking attention as a child was so unbecoming- though I did enjoy being desired by the boys and girls. I did it because I found myself deep in the creativity of it all. I found myself paying more attention at school, reading more, and doing the work to ensure I wouldn’t end up a woman who drew power out of shaming other women, especially if I was to have a daughter of my own. 

I will admit that in my twenties, I did hold back my divine until she came back like a goth damn California wildfire in my late thirties. In my twenties, she emerged at times that set my life on better courses for myself and the four children I gave birth to, and then rested and waited for my awakening. It happened all utilizing my own sexual revolution. 

My rebellious nature is my divine. 

When I was thirty-seven I began to realize that I wasn’t built to be over-domesticated and live as a lowly housewife where my children’s lives were my only life. I’ve seen what waiting to live life, on my terms until kids left the nest, or until retirement, or to get divorced for the fourth time in my seventies looks like for thats what my parents and in-laws did. Fuck the noise my boomer parents and in-laws made that tried to keep me on their miserable level. As it was, I was never good enough for them as a quiet, submissive, and obedient daughter and daughter-in-law. So, they can suck my queefs if they think it affects me whether or not they approve of my loud and up front sexuality. 

At first, my partner was apprehensive to accept that my power comes from the way I present my loud sexuality. It wasn’t easy for him to acknowledge that my feral desires, strength, and divinity extend beyond monogamy and keeping myself clothed in front of cameras.

He has witnessed me being objectified and mistreated when I attempted to follow the rules of society. He has seen what happens when my divines claw at me from within. 

Yet, here he is, supporting and encouraging my inner wild. It has taken time – coming up on eighteen years –  and much work mentally, emotionally, and physically on his end yet, he has reaped the benefits sexually and emotionally. And though my sexual chaos had leveled him at times, he finds me worth the time, and patience, and sought reason to understand me. Attributes that my divine was screaming for in my youth, in my twenties, in my thirties, and as a daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, friend, and peer. 

Having a true partner uplifts me in a dream-come-true kind of way. It’s a new chapter for my now-free inner wild.

There is no way of telling when my dark divine will sleep again. I am learning to flow with her as I do the seasons. With no one holding her back, not even me, she has been tremendously successful in fueling my creativity and energy. I am ready to dance outside again. I am ready to use the magic within to turn the music up and continue to explore my world. 

The truth is, my divine may look different in the coming years. There has to come a time during the crone phase of life when being naked on camera is no longer desirable.

When Bobby Lynn(Brittany Snow), a character in the movie X says, “Someday we’re gonna be too old to fuck.” I imagine myself evolving into a version of Pearl. Still fucking her partner or some sort of representative talisman when I’m without much hair, sagging skin and tits, and decrepit. Less the murdering tendencies, of corpse. 

Movie comparisons aside, I think of my grandma Ella and how she nourished her body until her last day. I think of how she was never ashamed of her body, got naked in front of me, and allowed me to admire her old-lady boobs. Without me even asking, she divulged some of her cute intimate tales before she passed and I know while she may not quite understand me now, she would have supported the confidence and strength that is pouring out of me as I feed, and nourish my sexually charged springtime carnality. 

With no regrets, I miss you so much, grandma.

I have already started to support my daughter with her sexuality and blooming body. I imagine and am excited to teach and encourage my daughter-in-laws to not be ashamed of their sexuality because it may make my son’s or other people uncomfortable. 

No, Instead, I imagine sharing my wild tales, the adversity I faced, how my divine takes control of me, burns boomer bridges, and builds progressive and nonjudgmental ones. I long to show them how and then to witness their version of the feeling it evokes within themselves when loud sexuality makes others clutch their pearls. I long to show them that just because they even though they may choose to be mothers that their life’s desires are not dissolved, that their bodies are to be cherished by all who are allowed to experience them, and that they are baddies because of their inner wild.

Every woman may not embrace or even have loud sexuality. I don’t judge those who prefer their intimacy be kept private. I cherish and manifest when I have them. Not every moment needs to be captured and finding a steady balance in that flow takes practice. Just don’t be a fucking cunt by talking shit, judging, and enacting bullshit laws that suppress and inspire the murder of women who are. ALL WOMEN! 

So, if your sexuality isn’t loud, I encourage you to tap into your dark divine. Allow her to elevate and strengthen your every desire.

2 Responses

  1. Extremely powerful and potent stuff–super inspiring!!! (Also, I just want to hug childhood and teenage Michelle, because those adults telling her to water herself down or be less than who she is were WRONG AF!)

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