Your anger is sacred. Nurture her and listen to her fiercely.

 

 

Dear Younger Me,

I’ve been thinking about you often, contemplating all of the things I want to share with you these next few months. I imagine propping you on my knee, holding you close, listening to your endless chatter, braiding your hair, and offering you soft stories of what could be.

In this second letter, I want you to know this:

Your anger is sacred. Nurture her and listen to her fiercely. 

Anger is a complicated emotion for many people. Anger, you will learn, is seen as irrational, volatile, violent, unladylike, dangerous, and a sign that you’re out of control. Why, you may ask? Well, again, it’s complicated, but so much of it is because having a healthy relationship with your anger means you are connected with your internal sense of power and worth. To be powerful and self-aware is one of the most threatening things of all in this world.

In fact, you’ll be taught that being angry isn’t acceptable, that your anger makes others uncomfortable, and good girls never make others uncomfortable. You’ll learn to tap your anger down, to deny it and ignore it, to only let it out when it’s in service of others but never yourself.

You’ll be encouraged to distance yourself from your anger, which in turn means you’ll become afraid of it in yourself and in others. The world will reward you for this, and without knowing it, over time, you’ll slowly become part of a system that uses other people’s anger as an excuse to devalue and abuse them.

And it’s true… Anger can be irrational, volatile, violent, dangerous, and weaponized. When anger is ignored, it persists. When other feelings become intolerable, anger steps in, eager to protect us, and often expresses herself unfairly and recklessly.

Which is precisely, little one, why your anger is so very important.

Your anger is a warrior. She is wise and protective, constantly monitoring all of your edges with tireless diligence. She never doubts the depth of your worth.

She is ruthless about sounding the alarm when even the smallest thing seems off, when you doubt your power and purpose, when you hesitate to stand up for yourself, when harm is imminent.

You see, your anger IS love. Anger is only possible when you care. What most people don’t see is that it should be far scarier when anger (not to be confused with hatred) disappears completely, a sure sign that love is dead or dying.

Anger knows the places that long for a yes and the places that embody your no. She sees the inherent worthiness of your humanity, the sacredness of your body, the importance of your time and energy. She understands what fairness, justice, equity, and liberation mean, not only to you but to the collective, too.

What no one will tell you is that if you listen carefully whenever anger whispers in your ear, whenever she sends a little shiver down your spine, a little flush to your cheeks, a soft and loving, “Hey. Something isn’t quite right,” then you will never be far from your power and integrity.

In other words, when you trust your anger and allow her to flow freely as she was meant to do, she will take up almost no space (except in cases of emergency), showing up a soft breeze that gently nudges you back on course.

From this place, it will be so much more challenging for those who want to trick you, manipulate you, coerce you, take advantage of you, deny you, ignore you, use you, or push you to be or do something that doesn’t align with your desires and values.

It makes you dangerous to people who seek to have power over you.

Whenever you silence your anger, she’s forced to become more insistent, more desperate to protect you. Instead of being a source of quiet, loving attunement, she’ll become something uncomfortable, painful, and eventually, explosive.

Wouldn’t you if someone you loved with all of your heart and soul refused to listen when you shouted, “Stop! You’re hurting yourself!”?

For this reason, you will encounter people who use their anger to hurt others, who wield anger like a weapon, who use the fuel of anger in a way that harms themselves and everyone around them. Know that they are hurting and know it is not your job to fix them or entertain them. Offer them compassion, if you’d like to witness them, do so, and then move on.

Nurture your anger and trust her, but do not expect this relationship to be easy. When anger speaks, it is often inconvenient, uncomfortable, and awkward. Yet another reason so many people deny their truths.

To listen to your anger means saying no and witnessing disappointment in people you love. It means calmly reasserting your truth in the face of someone who seeks to twist it into something else. It means telling someone that something they said or did isn’t OK and asking for an apology. It means slapping away a stranger’s hand that touches a place it doesn’t belong. It means asking for more money, correcting an incorrect order, leaving in the middle of a date that’s not going well, letting a family member know they’re not listening, standing up for others when you witness injustice.

Living in right relationship with your warrior protector means being really, brilliantly visible. It means taking up space and not apologizing for the things you need to feel safe. 

This will make people deeply uneasy. It might even trigger their own unhealthy anger to see someone tending to themselves in a way that is foreign to them.

But, to lovingly and tenderly nurture those edges of you and the ways you want to exist in the world is to create space for people who see your fierceness as a gift, who welcome it, who can witness your anger without taking it on as an attack. And you will be able to stand openly and honestly in the face of their anger without feeling like it might crush you.

So, get mad. Speak it out loud. Practice finding the words that express your desires. Feel all of the places in your body that tingle, twitch, sizzle, murmur, clench, warm, and shift when anger speaks to you. Practice, fuck up, and practice some more. Resist turning that anger on yourself as a way to keep yourself invisible and small (more on this in future letters), but do acknowledge when you make mistakes. Like you, anger doesn’t always get it right, either.

And more than anything, know that to be angry is to still be lovable and worthy. If no one else ever says it to you, Dawn, just know that I love you when you’re angry and I see your anger as valid.

In the end, all your anger wants is to be softly, gently, repeatedly acknowledged for the tireless work she does to tend your edges. Because your edges are important and no one will ever know them, understand them, or feel them the way that you do.

Your anger is an expression of your humanity and what matters to you. Your anger is sacred. Nurture her and listen to her fiercely. 

Until next time, with so much love,

40-year-old Dawn

*For me, my anger feels like a she/her, probably as an expression of me. Your anger may have other pronouns or no pronouns, and that’s rad, too.

The problem has never been and never will be your body. Find people who agree.

Dear Younger Me,

Sometimes, when I imagine you, I picture you at the tender age of four, free and magnificent in a body that did not yet know shame, fear, or unworthiness. Other times, I imagine you at 14, when things were a little more complicated, but you hadn’t yet been touched by sexual trauma. This letter offers you a few lessons I’ve been learning that might have offered you some ease, permission, healing, and fortitude.

So, here we go…

The problem has never been and never will be your body. Surround yourself with people who agree.

Like many of the lessons I’ve learned, this will not be an easy one to remember. 

Mom and Dad did their best with what they knew, so it will be hard to stay in that place of love and freedom inside your skin when the little comments start about how big boned you are compared to your much thinner, younger sister. You won’t know it at first, but each and every time the food you put on your plate is policed you’ll be tempted to trust voices outside of you to decide what’s right.

Cling to the messages your body sends you with everything you have, little one. This will be the first of countless attempts to gaslight your inner knowing and you’ll spend your lifetime trying to regain the ability to hear what that glorious body of yours is trying to tell you.

The problem is not your body when you go back-to-school shopping at the age of 12 only to hear disparaging remarks by adults in the store about how your size is so much bigger (two sizes, in fact) than all the other girls your age. The problem is their own shame and hatred of their bodies. Feel sorry for them when you can.

The problem is also not your body when your dance uniform gets mixed up with a teammates uniform who is four sizes smaller than you are. Though you can squeeze into it, shocked at how tightly your custom tailored dress suddenly fits (and your first thought will be that you ballooned four sizes in one week), your friends will tell you it’s a great thing that you could even make it work – because in high school, everyone already knows that smaller is the social currency that scores you access to what matters. 

Your body is not the problem when much older men sexualize you, harass you, and come on to you when you’ve barely hit puberty. Your body is not the problem when they do much worse.

No, sweet soul, this is when that anger you’ve been taught to deny yourself can be channeled righteously at those who seek to make your body both an object for their consumption and a sacred ground fertile with your fear.

You will feel like your body is the problem when boys tell you they don’t want to date someone who looks like you, when they tell you you have such a pretty face and if only you’d do something about the rest then maybe…

You will feel like your body is the problem when you try diet after diet after diet after diet after diet only to be admonished by teachers, doctors, and family alike that you’ll do better next time and if only you had more willpower then maybe your body wouldn’t be such a tragedy.

The truth is, beautiful little Dawn, that your body is strong and wise and utterly in love with you. It will show up for you after you belittle it, betray it, abuse it, make excuses for it, manipulate it, starve it, and dream night upon night for decades about cutting entire pieces of it off. 

Your body is not the problem. Your body is magnificent. It knows what you need at every given moment and people will try to sell you solutions that teach you that wisdom is wrong and untrustworthy. If you have the strength of will, spit in their faces and laugh all the way to freedom.

Your body is your own. Your body is your own. Your body is YOUR OWN.

Other people will feel they have a right to comment on your body and how you live in it. They will claim it’s from a place of love. At first, you will not have the language or the voice to tell them that’s not what love looks like. At first, you may have to play along, pretend, or check out to survive. 

But find a place inside of you where you can go to remind yourself that your body – no matter what size it is, how old it is, what abilities it does or does not have – is utterly and completely yours.

Your body is built for pleasure (and future letters will explore that in great detail). Instead of denying, rejecting, and wishing it away, find ways to play, celebrate, and savor everything it is capable of. It is endless in its capacity for joy.

And as lonely as it might feel, there are people in the world who will see your body for what it is and delight in it with you. 

Your body will change. It will age, get heavier, acquire scars and trauma. It may feel like a betrayal, but your body is not a problem to be solved. It is yours to tenderly and curiously meet with love and trust again to again.

There will be many thousands of moments when people attempt to make you see your body as something monstrous, sad, broken, and insufficient. You’ll hear words like “flattering”, “plump”, “fluffy”, “almost”, “someday”, and “too bad.”

Do your very best to understand that the world around you rewards people for this abuse. It has nothing to do with you or your body.

And, in fact, people will endlessly congratulate and celebrate when your body does things that make it look like it’s conforming to what they expect from you (because sadly the world we live in wants every single body on the planet to be a singular size and shape, which when you think about it is utterly fucking ridiculous, but there it is). It will feel good when that happens, and it’s OK that it feels good.

Just know that regardless of what size you are and regardless of what certain people in your life may claim, your body is not the problem.

Cultivate relationships with those who want to trust their body and yours. Nurture and seek out friendships and relationships with people who delight in your body as it is and as it changes in any number of ways. These very special people inherently believe in the wisdom of your body. They will be difficult to find at first, but you will find them and then the world will open up in ways you never imagined.

Oh, sweetheart, if only I could hold your hand, each and every day, caress your cheek, hold you close and whisper over and over again: 

The problem has never been and never will be your body. Surround yourself with people who agree.

Until next time, with so much love,

Dawn

 

Love is fierce. Love is strength. Love is anger.

Love is a phrase that gets thrown around a lot.

We use it to tell someone how we feel about them and to indicate we deeply enjoy an experience. We say that only love can heal, that all we need is love*, and we believe that certain kinds of love are more desirable or superior to others (say, valuing romantic love above platonic love).

And lately, there have been a lot of people calling for love as the antidote to the hatred, violence, and ignorance that's been getting so much (long long long overdue) attention in the media.

We often see love as soft, patient, gentle. When we talk about loving the world, it's often from a place of wanting people to simply get along.

But that kind of love isn't love at all. In fact, to call that kind of platitude love is an insult to the power that actually is love.

Love is fierce.

Love is strength.

Love is righteous anger.

Love is boundaries and accountability, even when it is uncomfortable. Love is difficult conversations no matter how scared you are because the outcome matters.

Love is justice.**

Love is not weakness, or turning away, or ignoring the problem. Love is not patting things into place and hoping for the best.

This is true of our personal relationships as much as it is about our community & our nation.

It took me a long time to understand that love, real love, is fiercely unapologetic about boundaries, respect, vulnerability, and discomfort. I'm still unraveling all of the fucked up messages I received as a young person about how little my boundaries mattered.

Because they do - matter, that is. Boundaries - both the yes and the no, what we want and what we will not tolerate - are entirely based in love.

To say, "this is what I deserve" and "this is not OK," is to say I matter. My body matters. My safety (but not comfort) matters.

To say, "please meet me here" and "please do better," is to say you matter to me enough that I'm not giving up and walking away.

Boundaries are ultimately about connection and how we exist in the world.

But this is not about comfort. Love is not comfortable. Love is action and attention. It is showing up, even if you get it wrong.

And that's where I think so many of us stumble. We don't mean to. We try so hard, so much of the time. And it makes sense that we mess up & mistake niceness or comfort or consistency for love because we don't have very many role models in the world for love in action, especially when things get ugly.

Love, at its core, is about assuming someone is doing their best, and then offering yourself & what you need so that they can meet you there.

To love someone is to say, "Ouch. That hurt."

To love someone is to say, "Wow. I didn't know. I wasn't listening. I'm sorry. I'll do better. Please tell me more."

To love someone is to say, "This isn't OK. Something needs to change."

This is also what loving yourself looks like.

The world does need love right now. But it needs the kind of love that acknowledges things haven't been right for a very long time (if ever). The kind of love that shows up, even when we are ashamed and afraid and unsure, to keep doing our best even if it's wildly uncomfortable, because it matters. And anything that matters requires attention & action.

You choose love. Always. It's a choice. As soon as you're no longer choosing, it becomes passive. That is not love.

Your life needs love right now. The kind of love that sees you, opens to you, holds you accountable all while nurturing you tenderly through the ups and downs - because there will be ups and downs if you're doing it right.

Because it's time for all of us to level up. Even if it hurts. Even if it's scary. Even if it violates every story you've ever told yourself about the world and how it works.

It's time for all of us*** to step into righteous love, however uncomfortable it may be.

Start showing up in the relationships that matter to you. Confront the places where you're being critical or condescending, where you're being defensive or shutting someone down. It's on you to see where you need to do the work, to make the requests that re-build connection and a sense of on-going action.

Start showing up for the people in your community, in your neighborhood who are suffering at the hands of oppression. Have the tough conversations with the people you have influence with. Put your dollars into the hands of people on the ground doing the work.

Love is ferocious in the ways it can heal, but only if we are willing to get uncomfortable, to get vulnerable, to untell our stuck stories and to rewrite them in a way that lifts ALL of us up - be it globally or at the most intimate levels.

If you want to learn more about justice because justice IS love and love needs you, check out this, this, this, and this.

*Shout out to The Beatles for this one.
**I can't say "love" and "justice" without graciously thanking Kelly Diels.
***By all of us, I mean especially, particularly, specifically those of us who are white, who are non-fat, who are cis, who are employed, who are able-bodied, who are men, who are privileged to take over this burden of injustice.


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How do you sustain love even when you’re at your worst?

How can you sustain love even when you're at your worst?  Relationship and sex expert Dawn Serra shares advice.

The other day I was confronted by the truth of who I am at my worst in relationship. It was an ugly mirror to gaze into. The shame was immediate and deep.

I was sitting in a relationship therapy training program, and we were talking about self-esteem and boundaries, examining the behaviors that are driven by being walled off or lacking boundaries, by living in shame or believing yourself superior to your partner. And then, on the diagram on the board, I spotted myself. Not just any self - the self I try to hide from, the one I pretend is justified and warranted when I'm hurting and scared in my marriage.

It was a humbling moment, seeing that darkness in the light of day.

Thankfully, I was able to catch myself just as my inner critic started up, and instead I got curious. Why was I so ashamed? Was it because I assumed I was the only one who got stuck in these behaviors? Why did I immediately tell myself that MY worst self was the worst of the bunch? And, why did I jump to the conclusion that my worst was my whole story?

In other words, I had a classic shame response - negative thoughts spiraling ever downward.

It's not often that we have a chance to have our worst reflected back to us in a way that makes us listen. Usually when that mirror is held up, we try to deny what we see because... well, there's always a reason for that snarky comment or icy silence, isn't there?

But, none of us are immune from bad days or bad behavior. None of us.

Everyone has a worst and nearly everyone moves into that space in relationship from time to time.

If it's a thriving relationship and our tanks are full, hopefully those moments are few and far between. If it's a struggling relationship or we're running on empty, then maybe we've gotten a little more comfortable showing that ugly underbelly with more frequency. Maybe, for a few of us, our worst has even become our normal.

Sitting there that day made me wonder... how can we get better at sustaining love, even when we're at our worst?

How can we create and maintain connection when everything in us is screaming to lash out or disappear?

Because the truth is we are surrounded by stories that say we should be focusing on ways to "fix" ourselves or the people in our lives if we want healthy relationship. As if there's a cure or an answer that can make a relationship with another human being perfect.

What if it's not about fixing your partner or fixing yourself and instead about finding space and kindness around the prickly stuff?

What if it's not about who is right and who is wrong, but about how you can connect when shit gets tough?

What if you're allowed to have bad days and make mistakes and you're not broken because of it?

What if, when you're at your worst, you know you'll come out the other side and the people you love know you will, too?

What if you're not alone?

Because that's the thing that struck me most as I was swimming in my shame... every other person (most of whom were therapists and mental health professionals) in that training went to the same place I did: that feeling of "oh god, what if someone finds out?" People started sharing what their worst looks like and the feelings that were coming up for them.

I realized how NOT alone I am.

We are all struggling in some way or another to stay vulnerable in the face of disconnection, to stay open when all you want to do is close off and run away, to hold firm boundaries when you're terrified that boundary might mean the other person no longer loves you, to trust that you're worthy even when you feel completely unlovable.

That's why love takes courage.

Being seen takes practice.

Feeling frustrated and disappointed and unsure of what comes next is normal.

What can we do when we find we're closing ourselves off or being critical and retaliatory or feeling terrified or alone? How do we sustain love from that place?

It begins by simply acknowledging it's not about you being broken, it's about a world that doesn't give us the skills or the tools to navigate these scary spaces (and that's hellbent on proving to each of us how unworthy we constantly are so we'll buy more shit).

We are still worthy of respect, love, and kindness even if we behave in a way that isn't reflective of how we'd like to be most days.

Resilience in the face of uncertainty (which is the definition of life and love) takes endless practice. Knowing that can give us space to forgive ourselves.

Being an adult in any kind of relationship is hard. It takes work and tough choices and accountability and choosing over and over and over again to show up and try.

So maybe, sustaining love is about having faith that each of us are doing our best and sometimes that won't be good enough. But we can always learn and heal and try again tomorrow.

If you want to practice in this space, my bi-weekly online group calls are now enrolling. We practice things like leveling up in love, talking about desires, setting boundaries, finding words for feelings, forgiving our bodies, and a whole lot more. Join our community.


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What is your relationship with pleasure?

Pleasure can be a tricky thing.

We are taught that pleasure is wonderful, something to aspire to, something to indulge in…

But not too much, too often, or in the “wrong” ways.

Oh, and pleasure is only for people who have earned it – either by being born rich/powerful or by working hard and achieving that right to claim it.

Pleasure for folks who are deemed undeserving is seen as laziness, as unfair, as addiction, as something worthy of punishment.

And yet, we were all born with an inherent understanding and desire for pleasure. We delighted in our bodies – in how it felt to touch them and move them. We sought out new experiences, new textures, new sensations eagerly and without apology.

As adults, pleasure can be complicated.

Some people are taught that their sexual pleasure is a given while others are taught that theirs is a nice-to-have or a bonus.

Some people are taught that food is pleasure without apology while others see pleasurable foods as the enemy in their quest to attain/maintain thinness.

Some people believe that pleasure is the work of evil entities while others believe pleasure is a god unto itself.

Pleasure is natural. Pleasure is available to us in almost every moment of every day if we open to it.

And, at the same time, pleasure isn’t always nice. It isn’t always easy or convenient. Sometimes pleasure is full of uncertainty, especially if we’re seeking the kind of pleasure that truly speaks to our soul.

Pleasure can be found in the relief you feel after having finally said that super scary thing. Sometimes pleasure is only ours after we move through the pain. Other times, pleasure is actually waiting for us inside of the pain, inside our discomfort.

And, as Conner wondered in his study of Charles Fourier, what if we allowed ourselves to be entirely driven by pleasure?

So, I’m curious…

What did the world teach you about pleasure growing up? Did you deserve it? Were you told it was even an option for you? And when has pleasure offered growth or discomfort or surprise?


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Who do we leave out of consent conversations?

I was just chatting with Andrew Gurza on his podcast Disability After Dark. We were rolling around in marginalized bodies and sex, the ways we perform and try to be “normal” and not other.

One of the things he said to me is that consent looks really different for him.

As a disabled person, sex may only be an option for him every 6-7 months (maybe once a year), and so if you ask him to have certain kinds of sex, he may say yes even if he’s unsure simply because he may not have another opportunity at sexual connection for another year.

We live in a rape culture, a culture that doesn’t even understand the most basic rules around consent. A lot of this is due to patriarchy and misogyny, people feeling like they have access to certain bodies simply because they deserve sex.

So, it makes sense that when talking about consent is radical in and of itself that we would frame the conversation in the most basic language – anything other than an enthusiastic yes is a no.

But this black-and-white conversation leaves a LOT of people and circumstances out of the conversation. Sex workers, for instance. Marginalized bodies. Various cultures and religions. Folks who are asexual. Poor folks. The list goes on.

When Andrew shared this, it drove home just how bad we are at really talking about the nuances of consent based on a variety of bodies and circumstances.

I know growing up I was never taught about consent. I was taught not to hit people. I was taught that rape is bad. That grown-ups shouldn’t touch little kids in certain places. But that was really it.

I wasn’t taught that pushing friends to do something isn’t consent.

I wasn’t taught that boys coercing me, twisting my words, cajoling me wasn’t consent.

I wasn’t taught so many of the most basic things about bodily autonomy and choices.

Consent is soooo much more than that, though.

It’s about nurturing, it’s about respect, it’s about nuance, it’s about SEEING someone and engaging with them, dancing with them, to co-create something that feels good for everyone involved while also understanding the social pressures and dynamics and power systems at play.

I wonder….

What has consent looked like in your life? Have you grappled with it? Have you had consent violated? Have you violated consent (we all have, if we’re honest – I have many times in a variety of ways)?

What would it mean to grow up, from the earliest of ages, learning about bodily autonomy and respecting other people’s boundaries and needs, knowing how to ask for what you want and also how to receive someone else’s requests without taking them on as your own?

It’s juicy and filled with landmines. So let’s tread carefully and stay curious.

Talking about feelings is one thing. FEELING them is another.

I’ve been sitting in some tough places and reflecting on what it means to actually experience the messiness of life.

It’s one thing to talk about feelings, to learn skills for managing and navigating feelings, and it’s another entirely to actually be in the thick of them – struggling not to capsize from the grief, the heartbreak, the sorrow, the anxiety, the rage, the BIG FEELS when they swallow you up and threaten never to spit you back out.

Of course, intellectually we may know that emotions pass. They move and swell and shrink and become something else. But, in the moment? When those emotions seem to be bigger than your entire being? It can feel as if nothing will ever be true except this pain, this fear, this all-consuming moment.

And it makes sense.

Most of us didn’t grow up in a world where we had it modeled for us how to safely sit in our scary places, to know we would be loved no matter how much it hurt or how big it got. Most of us didn’t have adults in our lives who knew how to have vulnerable, awkward conversations that we had a chance to witness, over and over again until it felt real and possible for us.

Which leaves us all, personally and culturally, treading water; hoping that we’re moving in the right direction. It can be even more difficult when you finally start finding words for your feelings and developing skills for resilience but the people in your life aren’t on that same path.

Life is messy, hard, and unpredictable for each and every one of us. We can hide from it and all the ways we feel about it, but that only works so much.

Instead, hopefully, maybe, on the good days, on the days when we have a little more patience or our tanks are a little more full, we can offer ourselves kindness and we can reach out towards those we love.

What powerful things: kindness and connection.

Powerful because they offer so much, but also because it takes such raw vulnerability to sit in them. I believe, with all of my being, that this is also where the beauty and transcendence of the human experience begins to emerge. This is where we find love.

That’s why self-reflection and naming where we are most stuck can be so transformative. Instead of ignoring and denying our truth, we can set tidal waves of change into motion by simply allowing our truth to be seen.

Today, like most days, I do not have answers.

But what I do have is dreams of you and I making it, of all of us finding new ways to experience our feelings, of the world shifting slowly and surely as it makes space for each of our stories, exactly as we are.

So, I will leave you with a simple question as you contemplate where you are today. Feel free to post your response in the Facebook group or comment below. I’m here for you.

What story are you telling yourself? And is it true?

Complaining is easy; choosing the erotic is an act of defiance

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’ve been finding it incredibly difficult to be creative and to show up lately. Taking care of myself seems harder than ever. Then again, I’ve never been very good at taking care of me, so maybe that’s not the best measure.

That said, I’m finding so much inspiration and hope in people doing incredible things. From artists to documentary filmmakers to writers and beyond, I feel so connected to the swell of love that we are seeing in the face of so much hate.

The truth is that when we are exhausted and overwhelmed, stressed and unsure, it can be so so difficult to tap into our erotic energy. So I want to roll around in some thoughts around choosing eroticism and prioritizing it – for our health, for our joy, and for the relationships that we’re in.

The other day, Esther Perel wrote, “Complaining of sexual boredom is easy and conventional. Nurturing eroticism in the home is an act of open defiance.”

This struck a deep chord with me because I hear from so many people how much pain they’re in over low desire, lack of sexual interest, mismatched libidos, or shame around sexual fantasies.

We all know that relationships take work – whether it’s a friendship, a business partnership, or a romantic connection. But, so does sex.

Culturally, we’ve been taught that sex should be effortless and frequent, especially if we’re in love.

I call bullshit.

To cultivate erotic energy in our lives takes practice. It takes nurturing. It takes prioritizing the things that help us tap into our erotic selves. In other words, it takes work.

Once the new relationship energy and happy brain chemicals begin to wane, once life begins to find some patterns and rhythms, once kids and pets and jobs and friends and obligations start filling our schedules, once we’re single and left with our own body and no one to blame, it takes deliberate commitment to prioritize and follow through on things that create erotic energy.

So why is it an act of defiance to nurture your erotic self?

Because it’s easier to get bored. It’s easier to complain and make excuses for why we can’t find time or why our partners don’t get us as hot and bothered as they used to. It’s easier to be distracted by social media and television and activities that fill the time rather than fill our hearts and souls.

And, most importantly, when the world is in so much chaos, it’s a win for the haters and the dividers to keep us so distracted and busy that we lose our connection to ourselves and to each other.

Somehow, we collectively got this idea that sex is: easy, all about the genitals, all about the orgasms, all about performance, an indicator of relationship health, a way to prove our worth…

But, what if nurturing our erotic selves, CHOOSING to create time and space for the erotic, meant something as simple as connection and pleasure?

What if our sexual needs could be met through skin contact, dancing, massage, eye gazing, mutual masturbation, writing sexy stories, reading sexy stories, playful wrestling, and an endless cornucopia of other delicious, hot experiences?

It would mean rejecting the patriarchal, misogynistic, heterocentric, puritanical stories about what sex actually was. That would be such an incredible act of defiance.

To choose you,

to choose your body,

to choose your pleasure on terms that were defined by no one but you,

to choose connection with your partner(s),

to let go of the noise and the rules and worrying about what’s “normal”

and instead be totally present with your needs, your desires, and perhaps the pleasure of another?

I’m no different than you when it comes to this struggle.

Some days I’m exhausted. Sometimes it’s easier to fart around on Facebook and scroll through Twitter and chat about meaningless things and fall asleep while my partner is eyeball deep in reddit.

There are times I can go days without having a sexy thought or fantasy.

But I’ve learned to check in with myself and to notice that I haven’t touched myself or flirted with my sweetheart in a few days. I’ve learned to pay attention to how long it’s been and to then intentionally choose to take erotic action.

Whether it’s watching porn (there’s a fabulous resource down below!), or sending LadyCheeky.com links to Alex, or writing a little erotic story, or putting on my sexiest lace bodysuit with the snap crotch, or pulling out a sex toy and leaving it on the bed as a reminder…

I cultivate the energy and I give myself permission to play in that uncertain space, to see if I respond, and almost certainly, every time, once something sexy begins, I’m all in and feeling amazing about it.

Defy the cultural narrative. Stop clinging to what’s easy and instead decide what’s important. Then, choose to make it happen on your own terms.


One of my guiding beliefs is that sex is a social skill.

It’s something we learn by doing, by relating, and by understanding ourselves, first and foremost.

If you’d like to receive my love notes and musings on sex, relationships, vulnerability, and connection, be sure to hop on my newsletter. In addition to a five video course about sexual desire, you’ll also get a sneak peak into my personal life, links to my podcast episodes, and tidbits about transforming your life and your pleasure.

Making space for big emotions

Sweet soul,

I’ve been staring at this blank space for the past 15 minutes, typing and deleting, typing and deleting.

The truth is I have so much to say. Yet I also know that whatever I say, it won’t be enough/right/true. So I am marching ahead and allowing that uncertainty to simply be what it is.

Today is the U.S. presidential inauguration, and so many people around the country (and world) are struggling. Whether you’re attending a march, a party, or self-caring away from all of the hubbub, there is no denying that today begins a new chapter for the entire world.

Like many of you, I’m having feelings. Big ones. Scary ones. Feelings that make me feel like I’m drowning.

I have feelings about the world at large, about this new president, about this new Congress, about all of the ways I’m scared for the people I care about – including you.

At the same time, I have all of the feelings that come with navigating my day-to-day life, my relationship with myself and with my partner…

It can be utterly overwhelming.

So, instead of a long post, I simply want to offer you this:

Take care of you today.

Reach out to your loved ones.

Curl up or speak out or march or make art or make love or (consensually) beat the snot out of someone until you’re both heaving messes of sensation and release.

As for me? I am sick as hell, so it will be bubble baths and soup and 80’s movies until I feel a little better.

What if we’re all performing, instead of experiencing, pleasure?

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to interview erotic film director Erika Lust. She makes some of the sexiest erotic films in the world (in my opinion), and she is also beautifully thoughtful and articulate about the role pornography plays in our experience of sexuality.

I keep bumping up against this idea that we are all taught about the performance of sex instead of the experience of sex.

Since so few of us had a decent sex education and even fewer had any actual models of sexual pleasure as we grew up, most of us learned about sex from movies, porn, TV shows, romance novels, and friends. But, each of them is centered on a performance meant for entertainment and consumption, an edited version of the truth, a dramatic invention for plot twists in worlds where the weight of real responsibilities is lighter and simpler.

I’ve been wondering how porn and Hollywood have shaped the way most of us have sex, or think we should have sex. It’s created so much curiosity in me.

For instance, where did we learn what “normal” sex looks like? Who or what told us how often we should be having it? Why are so many people focused on orgasm? Who decided what arousal sounds like and how did someone else’s ideas influence the way we vocalize ourselves? What is sexy and why is the cultural definition so damn narrow and rigid?

More importantly, why are so many of us trying to fit our bodies, experiences, needs, and fantasies into a box that was designed for someone else?

Erika used the word “variety” to describe her films. I find that endlessly refreshing.

When it comes to learning about sexual pleasure and sexual experience, if we had an endless buffet of options in front of us, it would force us to look within to decide what felt like a good fit and what did not.

Even I fall into this comparison and culturally informed sexuality trap on a daily basis, and I spend my days and nights studying, thinking, and working to shift the dialog.

What if erotic ecstasy didn’t involve genitals? What if an orgasm didn’t happen? What if I didn’t shave my legs or worry about those nipple hairs? What if I could experience erotic connection and sensual pleasure with all of my clothes on?

I told Erika that one of the things I most admired about her films is that they all have some element of humor – either a genuine laugh out loud moment or a small wink to the viewer that ensures you’re in on the joke. That humor is refreshing because there is no room for shame or apologies when you’re smiling and laughing while looking at sexy naked bodies in motion.

Healthy sexual expression and erotic creativity cannot fully breathe in the presence of shame. And yet so many of us are ashamed of our bodies, our genitals, the amount of sex we have or do not have, the dreams of pleasure that haunt our quiet moments…

Is it possible to stand before the endless cornucopia of sexual possibilities and erotic expression, open your arms wide, and to marvel at all of the living, breathing opportunities for pleasure, creativity, and connection available to you in each moment of your life?

I wonder. I invite. I hope. I dream. And I wish this for me and for you.


One of my guiding beliefs is that sex is a social skill.

It’s something we learn by doing, by relating, and by understanding ourselves, first and foremost.

If you’d like to receive my love notes and musings on sex, relationships, vulnerability, and connection, be sure to hop on my newsletter. In addition to a five video course about sexual desire, you’ll also get a sneak peak into my personal life, links to my podcast episodes, and tidbits about transforming your life and your pleasure.

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