How to Become an Artist of Sex.

Via Angela Meyer 

Warning: naughty language ahead!

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Sex.

A three-letter sound that has the power to turn the heads of teenage boys and old ladies alike. A word oozing with so much meaning, shame, excitement, judgement, insecurity, and taboo.

I was taught from a very young age to bottle up my sexuality because it was dangerous.

It had the power to attract the twentysomething male employees, who had eyes for a well-developed sixth grader.

Grown men drooling, as my mama drove her preteen daughter around; my tender age masked by dark glasses.

I was encouraged to smile more and in the same breath, stop being so friendly. Don’t give the boys at the bar the wrong idea.

My female sexuality was risky behavior, inviting in dangerous predators, diseases, unwanted babies, and the death of the good girl I was raised to be.

The world told me my body was made to be ogled, picked apart, and objectified. I must protect it at all costs.

Fight, flee, or freeze—but freedom? No ma’am, that’s not an option for you.

And you know what?

I think somewhere along the path, I started to believe that shit.

I armored myself with resting bitch face, I-wish-a-motherfucker-would eyes, and invisible knives that would slit any man’s throat.

My body was compared to other bodies and judged on an allusive criteria.

I needed to change my behavior so that I could stay safe in the world, or else secure a man to protect me from all the hungry wolves.

And they are out there.

But I can protect myself by rewriting the story of my saving.

I can choose to put my fist down, and uncage the earnest lover who is unafraid of a broken heart—the girl with wild eyes, demanding ecstasy with every unknown fucking moment.

I choose to view my body as an endless canvas to experience the pleasure of sensuality, earthy and rich. Using passionate encounters to unleash my creative fire, because I choose to not see it as dirty or perilous.

My body is not dysfunctional, inadequate, or separate from my humanity.

I will choose intimacy over externalization and cultivate the courage to ask for what I want. With bold vulnerability, I will reveal secret fantasies, delighting in the adventure of playing them out.

I will commit to living so fiercely that there is no time to judge others.

And I will bathe in the raging ocean of my feminine brilliance.

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Relephant watch: The One Buddhist Red Flag to Look out for.

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Author: Angela Meyer
Image: Author’s own