As I was drifting into that hazy landscape before sleep, I wondered how I would feel in the morning after what we had done together. Would I feel ashamed? Would I have a vulnerability hangover? I can remember times in my life when I revealed things about myself to others and then regretted it because they didn't understand. Not everyone admits that we are all messed up and uncertain and weak creatures. Most people hide from their fundamental indigence.
Truthfully, I have woken up feeling exultant. I feel rested, relaxed, and warm. Although we spoon when we tuck down for the night, usually we gravitate to our sides of the bed after we fall asleep. This morning we are still loosely entwined. I feel closer to him than ever. I feel as if I have been through an initiation, opened to new knowledge about myself and the world, and I have come through, feeling more loved and accepted than ever before.
I never used to feel confident about my body. What woman does!? We are never the right size and shape. Never slim enough. Breasts are never big (or small) enough. Each female friend of mine can recite a litany of deficiencies in her body that she would like to change.
When we first started having sex, I felt shy to be seen naked. If I could manage it, I would undress and be in bed without him seeing. But slowly it dawned upon me that he relishes my body, that he loves looking at me and touching me. I started to feel good about myself and I have grown to love walking around in the nude and seeing how his eyes are drawn to me. I now see that men love women's bodies and are somewhat helpless over their attraction to us. We have such power and, although, like any power, it must be used wisely, it is good to feel desired.
A big thing for me was learning to see and love my genitals through his eyes. I guess I felt ashamed of its smells and wetness and my periods. It is a changeable creature and I didn't know what to make of it. But then it became clear that his favourite thing was to spend time 'down there', touching, fingering, tonguing, tasting, and getting me more and more turned on until I orgasmed. It was almost as if he worshipped it. I think it is the mysterious part of a woman, the part that is the most hidden away, and every time was like an exploration, returning to the ground of his making.
And so, seeing them through his eyes, I grew to love my genitals. I learnt to receive pleasure from him without guilt. And I learn to enjoy giving myself pleasure. It is not as if I had never masturbated, but I had always been furtive and guilty about the act, whereas now I opened my legs and relished playing with myself, learning what I liked and the different orgasms I could give myself. I have come to love the gooey, slippery, slidey, smooth, and intricate folds of my vulva. I love putting my fingers inside my vagina and feeling around at the different textures and the sensation of exploration and fullness. I will bring my fingers to my mouth and taste myself, relishing the salty taste and the complex aroma. Sometimes I will spread my wetness over my lips and lick them as I continue to play with myself. A woman's body is amazing.
