I found my sexuality, my desire, my pleasure and the self-love I’d been looking for, on my own. The sexual energy exploded and it nourished me and it had nothing to do with another person.
We live in a society that does not celebrate people who truly love themselves. We have been taught to apologize for ourselves. We have been taught to hold ourselves back, to hide, and to be ashamed for our greatness, and we have been taught that being in absolute love with ourselves is self-centered.
The relationship I’ve lived with my body has been tumultuous to say the least. I was overweight since age 7 as well as into my teens and 20s and like so many others before me, I gave into the pressure to be thin that nearly destroyed me. Being thin was the only currency of life that I was interested in acquiring and I spent many years being at war with my body in every which way.
If you were told that you would never be able to follow the career you wanted to pursue, would never be chosen to date anyone, and never be able to wear pretty clothes, you would probably want to do everything in your power to become thin as fast as possible. And that’s what I did.
As the sensitive empathic child I was, I started to feel unsafe expressing myself and being seen and I became more shut down from not knowing how to deal with that. I didn’t know how to not absorb stuff from other people and I didn’t know how to shelter and protect my pure and sensitive heart. So I got quiet. Really quiet.
I let go of my physical clutter first. For years I had been that person that kept everything because it had a memory attached to it or because someone gave it to me. Being a child who grew up with only one parent and feeling the lack of the other, I made sure as hell that no one would take away anything else from me and this showed up clearly in the relationship I had with my belongings. I remember how my mother would cringe every time she attempted to help me tidy up my room because it became a power struggle when I decided to keep every. little. thing.