Coming Home: Day 29— perhaps

On this near-last day of this month of transformative work, I’m hearing all the censor voices, the voices who don’t want this writing to happen, the voices who think this work is useless/indulgent/perverted/dangerous/stupid/non-revolutionary. I am hearing the voices of shut it down. I am hearing the voices of you are doing harm. I am hearing the voices of the perpetrators, the afraid, the lost, the broken — all those voices that still live in my skin.

Here I am writing anyway. All of that might be true: here I am writing anyway.

Read the rest here.

Coming Home: Day 23— dissociating (to) orgasm 

This morning, as I settled in under the water, I was thinking about dissociation and masturbation (how’s that for meta?) — the truth is, I don’t always fantasize about sex when I’m masturbating; in fact, when I first get started, I think about almost anything but sex: plans for the day, how sweet it was to play w Sophie out in the park, what I new to add to the shopping list, what I’m going to write here. After learning to fully dissociate while also experiencing extreme clitoral stimulation (as with a vibrator), I know how to both feel the pound of the water against me and keep it at a distance — it’s quite possible for me to have a vibrator on my clit for an hour or more and not be any closer to actually coming than when I started, if I don’t really pay attention. I have to focus, as with a kind of meditation, if I want to be in the rise to orgasm.

Read the rest here.