Journey of Understanding my Body again

I’m going to discuss something that some men will blush at, and some women too.

However I need to discuss the path towards sexual freedom I have had since having an IUD and being single post-rape.

We live in a hook-up culture, and for me that has been something I have adapted to, almost too successfully. My ventures in finding a mate has been interesting, but lovers I have no problem finding, it’s a heart that has been the hardest to find that matches mine.

I have found that I am not bothered as much by some of the things that used to bother me for so long. Part of it is letting go of an expectation that love, and sex, are the same thing, when in fact they are NOT the same thing.

Love is born out of liking things about other people, appreciating how they act towards others, how they sneeze, or even the stuff some may find stupid, like the sound they make snoring, or the look they have on their face when they think you are not paying attention, or the empathy you feel towards another human being. There are different facets of love and affection, but true, I’ll tell you when I actually find it, I know it will happen someday.

Like my ex, I loved how he rubbed his feet together at night, how he would wrap himself like a butterfly in a cocoon when he had the bed all to himself. There are things I have found in several people I have loved on a simple level, appreciated for who they are, but also know intuitively it is and has been a temporary time, to teach me how to love. Then there are some that the things they did still bother me to this day, and if I see that similar behavior in someone else, I flashback to the awful ways they treated me for example, and I even treated them because of how awful it was truly. Some people are just not good for one another as well.

Sex is different, each person has their different smell, their different desires, their different energy and ways of having sex. But their body is one thing, it is different than their soul, or their heart even. Sex is just being present with the body of another person. Not about control of that person, it’s about just enjoying that time together, even if it is temporary, and if its not enjoyable, walk away, that is what I have done, politely and gently. I have not had sex with every man I have been seen with. I have not participated with every person that has voiced or shown me their interest. I have mistakenly been with some guys, I have had no business being with, because I’m not some notch to put on a belt, and some of these guys, I’ve been just that.

But I had choices, and I have the power to choose. And that is the difference post-rape. With that man, who has a soul, who is sick and twisted in his mind, he used sex as a way to dominate a woman, It could have been any woman, it wasn’t about me. And that is the hardest thing to understand. We are emotionally detached from our bodies, and the violation done to my body was so traumatizing, it scrambled me up like a blender. I won’t equipped to deal with it, I wasn’t able to handle it, and I got so lost in that, I lost myself, which is the worse thing possible.

Instead I have had people treat my body, and my sexuality as an extension of my inner soul, and this has been useful. My body is the vessel that carries my soul during however long of a time I have on this planet as me. After that I’m in God’s hands. I may be someone else in reincarnate form, I may go to heaven, who knows, I may just be a transfer of energy to the local plants I am spread on or I am planted under. There is no telling what will happen to this body when it is time for it to quit. But right now my body is mine, and I have choices, and it all starts with my thoughts being in line with my heart, in line with my soul, in line with my body and its actions.

I have learned enough about my sexuality and my sexual desires to know, I’m not interested in idle hook ups, but I know that each person has taught me something about myself, and is leading me to who I am meant to be with. It has also brought me closer to myself, and who I want to be, and also has shown me who I don’t want to be. Despite some people’s vocalization of calling me names and other things, I know god knows me, and the only thing I can do is try to do no harm, and leave people better than when I found them.

And as I learned going to Africa, witnessing and speaking with teenage women who were subject to Female Genital Mutilation, and how they risked death to run away from their family, and was found by the people of the school and saved, and given a second chance, I am thankful I have grown up in America. Some of the things I have discovered from this trip is how thankful I am to at least know, I have a choice, just like they did, and I can choose a better life, even facing possible death. Those girls have courage, some were raped before being found, some even married and sold for 6 cows before they ran away. And I am the same as those teenage girls, we are of the same tribe, a group of women who have known hate for being a woman, been taught to hate our bodies, been taught to be nothing more than a slave to a man.

I remember how I felt hatred for myself, for being punished to not being willing to pop out children for my ex, at least not yet, even if I loved him, he punished me for my insolence and found a younger woman to pop out children for him. And that is fine, they are souls and they are people too, they have a right to live that life, and to choose that life. But I was punished for it, and hated and ridiculed for it, more so from the psychological abuse and damage done to me from the rejection, and I think that made me more vulnerable to other attacks by others, because a woman is no man’s best friend according to my ex. At least that is what he told me, I wasn’t good enough as a woman to be a best friend.

And I’m not that woman that he told me I am, like the young woman in Africa I was blessed to meet, we have strength and we have courage, and we have voices, and we share a connection no man could ever understand. Men want to think they are gods, but they are not, a true man is a man or woman who knows they are of god, but not god. And some woman would like to think that being a sex object makes her worthy, or a goddess herself. And that is what my body needed, to know myself, and to know I’m truly not alone, that I’m human, a woman, and that is strong and good enough.  In Africa and in the US, in the other places I have been, I am enough as I am, and I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, I hope you do someday.

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