A man wrote to me today to let me know that seeing blood between my legs is gross, but seeing blood on my face is “animalistic” and “primal” and elicits fantasies. It is endlessly fascinating to me that people were more bothered by my last photo than all of the photos of my blood on my face. More people unfollowed me
I love you, body. I love that you tell me how you are feeling. I love listening to you. I love all of your little lines and marks. I love the stories that you hold. I love your softness and your squishiness and your hardness and your strength. I love all of your curves. The hair that
I do this because it still makes people angry that I do it. They get angry that I’m touching my own body and claiming it as beautiful. They are uncomfortable with the wildness, the grossness, the power… of womxn and our bodies. They label it “crazy” and “disgusting.” They dedicate entire podcast episodes to it, entire articles and blog
“Don’t get your hopes up” is the worst advice ever It’s basically saying: lower your joy. It’s a great way to learn to do everything from a place of fear. Fear that it won’t work out… fear that you won’t get what you want… fear that the world is actually just terrible after all, and so are you.
I used to be silent during sex. For years, I didn’t make a sound, because I was stuck inside my head. Was I doing everything right? How did my body look? Was I bad at sex? It felt unnatural to make any noise, so I didn’t. I figured everyone who was making noise was performing. When I did
Something that I’ve done ever since I was little was run to nature whenever I felt sad. Usually I sit on a rock, or at the base of a tree, or near water (or if I get really lucky like today, all three at once). We talk to one another but not in a way that feels like humans speaking. It
All my life I’ve been touched in ways that weren’t about my pleasure. I always felt like men were touching me because they wanted me to be ready for sex. The goal of touch was for me to finally be wet so that then they could have sex with me (if they decided to wait that long). Even when I had
It would make sense if you didn’t feel a connection to your pussy at all. If you were raised female, you’ve probably had a lifetime of completely ignoring what this area of your body really wants, really feels, really thinks. We often have experienced endless crossing of our boundaries, whether violent or subtle - if we were even confident enough or taught
Every moment of my life is filled with pleasure. Pleasure can be found in everything. There’s pleasure in the beauty of nature, in good food, in love – of course. But I also find pleasure in everything falling apart, in everything going wrong, in things like death and grief and everything not being perfect. Once, I had an energetic orgasm just from
I started crying and the sky started pouring in the darkness I opened up my entire heart. I said, these are all the ways you trigger me. I said, these are all the ways men have hurt me, have disappointed me. These are the ways I haven’t fully let people in, ever. These are the secrets I haven’t told anyone.