I’m pretty good at casting things that have to do with me, my life, my character, in a flattering light. At positioning myself in a story in such a way that in the end I come out looking shiny, or at the very least salvageable. And while I know there is a certain vanity in this, I also know that it stems from being just naturally fond of myself, despite everything.

So I can’t help it, and I do it, even when several other conclusions could just as easily be drawn.

But there are times when it’s difficult to tilt the angle just so, perhaps particularly when it comes to exposing events from my sexual canon. As a woman, it’s not always the easiest choice to be honest about my carnal nature. So much of what I have to say falls under the jurisdiction of slut, but that’s honest to goodness not my modus operandi, and I find the very idea of it incredibly limiting.

There’s so much more going on with me than my simply getting my slut on.

I’m easily as nice as I am naughty. As loyal as I am serpentine. I’m as prone to avert my eyes and blush when truly complimented as I am to respond favorably to being pushed against a wall in an alley. And I desperately don’t want one of these aspects of who I am to cancel out the other.

I don’t want to be just one thing.

Ever.

So what I like about sex—not necessarily the writing about it, but the sex itself—is that it can be, for me, a stage.

And by allowing that stage to be a place where my character can be absolutely anyone, I discover things about myself that I previously resisted knowing.

Like that I adore taboo something somethings.

Or that I am funny.

And strong.

And flexible.

But more than any of that, my sexual meta-truth has to do with intimacy.

Which is like, duh, right?

Except I’m not even talking about intimacy with another person, I’m actually talking about intimacy with myself.

I’m talking about how free I feel during, and how that translates into my being a person that loses her defensiveness.

Which, I guess, actually does evolve into intimacy with others.

Because when I’m not handicapped by that kind of worry, I’ve got helluv room to be generous and adoring.

Just try me.

~