fuck me until i break
until your mouth
inhales my screams
and this emptiness inside of me
folds in on itself
fuck me like you don’t care
like i have the strength
of a thousand goddesses
like i am
unbreakable
fuck me.
throw me.
restrain me.
slap me.
put me where you
want me
and take me.
take me.
for all the times i said no
for all the moments my voice was silenced
for each lewd look and whistle
for all the power that was taken from me
and for the darkness inside of me…
today is national down syndrome day. as an ally of the disability community, i’d like to take this opportunity to address a topic i rarely see publicly addressed (and suspect/have reason to believe it is rarely privately addressed either): sexuality & cognitive disability.
i have a dear one in my life with down syndrome. i also have worked in the personal care and group home sector. across the board it has been my experience that adults with cognitive disabilities tend to be treated as children by even the most well-intended. since america still is in rampant denial of children/minors being sexual beings, it stands to reason that we would be equally unwilling to grant sexuality to adults with cognitive disabilities.
but the fact is, we are all sexual beings, and people with cognitive disabilities have sexual desires, just like people without cognitive disabilities.
josh (name has been changed), an adult with whom i once worked, had a cognitive disability. he was dating a woman who lived in a neighboring group home. through the time they dated, josh explicitly requested sex ed information on 3+ occasions, and was kindly and patronizingly denied each time. similar to our “abstinence only” myth, we believe that if we ignore something hard enough, it will disappear, that our children’s sexual urges will just disintegrate via repression. unfortunately, that has never been an effective method to keeping us safe, healthy, and informed. i have heard many stories over the years similar to josh’s. why is it that an adult can come forward respectfully asking for information on his sexuality, and we would refuse him?
we need a sea change around disability, almost as badly as we need it around sexuality. consensual sexual expression that does not inflict harm on others should be a fundamental human right, one of the immensely complex and beautiful potentialities of the human experience. if nothing else in this life, we should own our bodies, and have the right to expose them to the experiences we want.
they say we never learn
but now i know
to always let the
sweet syrupy juices
pool and gather
marinate in their sugary goodness
be present
feel gratitude for each moment
of messy love
that we have.
[quote from wikipedia] La petite mort, French for “the little death”, is an idiom and euphemism for orgasm. This term has generally been interpreted to describe the post-orgasmic state of unconsciousness that some people have after having some sexual experiences.
More widely, it can refer to the spiritual release that comes with orgasm or to a short period of melancholy or transcendence as a result of the expenditure of the “life force,” the feeling which is caused by the release of oxytocin in the brain after the occurrence of orgasm.
i have been captivated by this term/phrasing for orgasm since i first learned of it. i think this is so perfectly on point… capturing the complexity of the varying emotions that give meaning to our unique experience of orgasm… the seemingly impossible combination of utter loss and ecstasy that i feel each time i come.
trembling over my skin
coursing through my blood
my cries quivering, hovering…
you send rushes of sensation
up and down my spine
my body yearns, demands to burst out of its casings
releasing this vast ocean of energy,
soaring through the sky…
then laying softly, quietly
skin against skin
our breath intermingling
floating in the creative wonder
of this love
vulnerability is frightening. the feelings of allowing and letting go that are necessary preludes to giving in to vulnerability feel counter-cultural. letting go means anything might happen. it involves trusting ourselves and holding space for anything that arises. we are afraid of our own shadows, what so-called dark desires and impulses might lie beneath our shiny veneers.
each time i post on this blog i feel afraid. even posting anonymously, i feel fears of rejection, old self-shaming responses, massive questioning of putting my raw words out on the internet for anyone and the nsa to read, fear of being a “bad” writer, of being laughed at… of being as insignificant and silly as my inner critic has always told me i am.
fuck it. i dare greatly now. i work each day to be gently courageous in all i do. to take myself seriously enough to put my words out, and with enough humor and self-love to accept my imperfections as part of the beauty of who i am, to love and take pride in all my creative output, silly and insignificant though it may sometimes be.
dare greatly today. how can we better celebrate and show our gratitude for this amazing adventure of life?
