The Oldest Story

A few years ago I was writing a lot of erotica. It was at a time in my life when everything was being lived in the fast lane: my relationships were frantic and exciting; my university studies had big-deal deadlines; I travelled to Australia and New Zealand, with a severe attack of ‘wanderlust’, eager for new experiences and encounters.

The stories flowed out of me. I used them as seduction tools. I got laid and I got published. My own sexuality was on a steep learning curve and I pushed forward: beyond boundaries and my own expectations.

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

It was exciting.

I felt very alive.

My sexuality was the main driver in my life and I allowed it to steer me at high speeds on dark roads and hairpin bends.

That was then.

Now I’m older, I’m happy in a long-term relationship, I have a stable home and two cats, and I write romantic comedies.

But that’s not the end of the story.

My sexuality – my sexual self – has always been important to me. I am many things: woman, daughter, employee, friend… and I am a sexual being. This aspect of my Self needs to be expressed and needs to be given attention.

It would be easy to look at my daily ‘to do’ list and decide there just isn’t the time/space/energy/inclination to attend to my sexual self. And sometimes that happens. Those are also usually the days when I feel flat and like I’m just going through the motions of life.

On days when I (as a minimum) remember I am a sexual being and (woo-hoo-I’m-living-the-dream maximum) actually express my sexual self (be it through writing, fantasising, making love – with myself or my partner) I feel alive.

I don’t need to be going into unknown bars in unknown places 10,000 miles from home hoping to get picked up. I don’t need to be watching a live sex show – or be a part of the show. I don’t need to be endlessly trying new positions, sex toys, or partners.

I just need to be Me – all of me – and create the time/space/energy/inclination for my sexual self to be expressed.

And this feels more important than ever as I get older and my peers tell me their stories of dwindling libidos, sex feeling like a chore, and disappointment in their changing bodies.

All that passion and excitement I felt in my 20s and early 30s needn’t be confined to history.

I don’t need to reproduce the past.

What I do need to do is keep on creating my present. Keep on exploring and expressing my sexuality. Keep on asking “who am I now?” at every age and stage of my sexuality. And honouring the answer by paying attention and attending to my sexual self.

So, as a way of honouring my Sexual Self, I’ve decided to go back to writing erotica. This feels very exciting and I feel very alive.

In the poem “The Summer Day”, Mary Oliver, asks:

what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

I’m asking:

what will you do to attend to and honour your sexual self?

What do you say?


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1 Comment

  1. Passing the Pleasure Stick 3/16/212 | Musings of Magick

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