This week I am stopping to remind myself that confidence is something that ebbs and flows. Something that has cycles just like the seasons. I’m currently on my moon cycle and this month I feel a heightened sense of shadow self. So I’m just going to sit with it, heal, to feel all my emotions, to be kind to myself and forgive myself instead of being my own worst enemy. I don’t feel sexy when I’m on my rag. I don’t feel sexy when I’m feeling low. One of my very dear friends, challenged me to go to a place in my head when I did feel sexy and sit in that energy, to absorb that happy and warm feeling, to remind me I have it within me even if it is on a little break for a quick minutes’ rest. So here is my “Sexyiess is a Contradiction” musing.
I feel sexy when I’m alone, the air is thick with music playing that my body can’t resist to dance to and misty smoke swirls of delicious incense fill the air. My body feels in touch with my inner magick and power. When I feel like the dark and light all at the same time, when I’m not the naive little girl I used to feel like, when I feel like the woman grown, mature, wise and sensual in the way I move, hold myself and know how and when to share my energy with people who deserve it. I feel sexy when someone looks at my energy, connects with the me that hides behind my eyes. When the manic noise of all our existences slows down for a second and we just breathe, giving space for beauty, silence and all the senses to come alive.
Sexy is shaving all past off my head and letting my tears flow, feeling vulnerable, standing in the middle of the campsite naked in the warm spring pouring rains, with not a care in the world.
Sexy is stranding up for myself when I’m scared and hurting. Sexy is looking into someones eyes and seeing that although I’ve changed and gotten a bit more beaten up around the edges I’m still the truest version of ME that exists right now and being proud of that. Sexy is the wink the glance across the room from someone who makes me blush and heart beat faster. Sexy is watching seeing someone enthusiastic and in the moment and rhythm of what they love to do. Sexy is getting lost, losing all sense of time and space in movement, passion, sound and rhythm.
Sexy isn’t the modeling photos I shot 10 years ago that I showed you when I wanted your attention. Sexy isn’t the memories of my clubbing days, the skimpy outfits, big smiles and enlarged eyeballs of the young me that drowned out my inner introvert with colour, noise and wild adventure. That self didn’t know how to make any kind of deep or meaningful connection. That self didn’t give a fuck, but made no space for vulnerability or things less superficial.
Those to me represent eating disorder I battled when I was 20, the way I knew how to contort my body half one way and half the other to create the illusions you see in photos. Sexy isn’t someone finding me attractive, putting me on a pedestal of what they admire in me. Sexy isn’t the sheer revealing clothes I wore as a sex worker, selling my body for money to support me and my ex girlfriend even though she didn’t know that’s what I was doing.
Sexy is refusing to conform to the unachievable social norms of women’s beauty standards, and embracing my dork, my short colourful hair that will never be “normal”, sexy is forgiving myself for binging on food and alcohol that makes my body feel and look shit, and healing myself with baths, hot showers and delicious fresh food that makes my heart sing. Even if it costs more to feed myself this way, when suddenly I’m not flush with money, I make this a small self love priority.
Sexy is floating in the ocean, the sea lifting the weight of my boobs off my chest and letting my legs relax after holding me up all day. Feeling like a streamlined ocean creature that loves water and moves swiftly and gracefully through the warm salty water at sunset, that feels sexy. I can imagine a place where the sky is magical and covered in stars, I feel safe and at home in my space- maybe a tent by myself, warmth envelops me in a comforting blanket of love, and my shape melds with blankets and covers. I like being that sexy slug. There I don’t feel like you have any expectations of me and what my confidence in myself should be. There I don’t have to be or do or look a certain way in order to gain approval from anyone.
Letting myself be okay and at peace with rarely feeling sexy around other people. Making space for being scared of be vulnerable or sharing my insecurities – which have always been there, bubbling like a little creek. I’m just putting less energy into hiding them now, the creek doesn’t go underground any more. I can’t pretend to be the eternal optimistic fountain of all joy and carefree optimism 24/7 – I still am these qualities, however I am allowing myself to be more selective with who I share that joy with.
I love being open and connecting with wonderful people I meet on an emotive level, but I choose who, how and when I let people in or share that gift with now. I’ve been told two or three times recently that I’ve much thicker walls up now and I’m much less open than I used to be. This used to worry me, but I wonder if it is because people who used to feed of this energy no long find it accessible to them?
My sexy is now sacred to me. My sexy is my gift, my joy. Those photos on the internet of me almost naked showing the curves, the body, the smiles and the “seduction”- THIS is my performance art. I’m a great performance artist but I want to retire from “being on show”. I want to retire from supporting everyone else with my positive free spirit attitude. I really truly believe love increases the more you share it but am exploring my boundaries keeping it safe and protected, I think just for now. I know right now my boundaries are pretty close and tight, and as time passes and I grow I believe they will expand to share and love more people and be more open again. Sacred joy, sacred shadow self, winter of self love that grows back when I nurture it softly.
I feel sexy when someone approaches me to bootblack my leather shorts. I feel sexy when I feel my dance partners body pressed against mine and know she can read my body language. I feel sexy when I’m naked in the warm summer rain. I feel sexy when your eyes never reach my body they stare deep into my soul and when tears stream down my cheeks they keep eye contact with you and you show me your openness and softness in return. I feel sexy when you say you’ll miss me but we’ll still hold space and love and support each other even if we won’t live in the same country for a while. I feel sexy when I hold you to warm you up on a cold night out and your body leans back into mine. Everything happens for a reason, it’s up to us what we do with these experiences. <3