I met a woman who helped shape my mind to think the way that it does. From the first moment I met her, I knew there was something different about her. She looked deep within my soul. She knew there was more to me than what met the eye. Her hold on me was volatile. From the start, our relationship was one nurtured by curiosity. She wanted me to question what I knew and figure out the answers and then go back and question the answers that I came up with. I remember the first time. I never knew what it was to know myself until she found me.
I’m not talking about my first time ever. That was a whole mess we do not to get into here. I’m talking about the first time I realized what it meant to take control of my sexuality. She was there with me. She told me to take what I wanted all the while giving what I felt. She told me to feel from a place built into my biology, something primitive. This was within me. Within us. We knew that what we wanted…we deserved. She told me to ask for it. To command it. To demand it.
So, here’s an obvious thought: I think we live in a world where we are scared to talk about sex. I don’t just mean like conversations with parents growing up. I mean with our partners as well. I think conversations about sex usually revolve around flirty connotations or talking about how the act itself was great…after the fact. I’m not saying that’s everyone, but just talking to people in my personal life or hearing stories, it’s usually stories of conquest or the above-mentioned topics. Why is that?
Thankfully, I had found her and was continuing to learn with her. She knew my body and taught me to ride the waves and take what I wanted. She told me to feel and then to tell her what I wanted. That there was really nothing wrong with talking through it. How can I truly have what I wanted here in this moment if I never asked for it, if I never described what felt right and what did not? We would just be going through the motion of things and she was adamant that she was never one to just “go with the motions.”
Here’s another thought. I know a few ladies who have told me that they will fake coming just to end it, because they don’t want their man or woman to feel bad. Why do we do that? Is the ego that sensitive that we do not want to risk bruising it? The first time I ever took control of my sexuality and asked for what I wanted, I remember the empowerment behind the act. There is freedom in that.
Thank you to my woman. My beautiful lady. Of all the things that she taught me, the number one thing that sticks with me was this notion of never being afraid to take pleasure in what my body had to offer. There is a sexual freedom in that. There is a piece of mind in that. Let me clue you in to something. I don’t want to leave this woman nameless. I want to scream her name for the world to hear. She is sexuality. She is choice. She is Flames. She is fire of sexual liberation within us all. She is I.