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Owning my Sexuality 

May is national masturbation month, which brings to light various ideas of what is acceptable in sex and sexuality.  Female sexuality is something that is often defined by everyone and everything but the woman herself. This is especially true for black women. Webster’s defines sexuality as: the quality or state of being sexual

Since our forced removal from Africa the narrative has been playing and continually perpetuated that black women are akin to harlotry. Rape of slave women was common and widely accepted for two reasons.  The first being that we were considered property and people tend to feel like they can do anything with what they feel like they own. Then there is the over-sexualized notion that black women are overflowing with desire and we want it,  gotta have it, are asking for it etc. Etc. The natural curves often associated with women of African ancestry is also a tertiary source for the presumptive stance many take on black female sexuality.

For centuries black women’s sexuality has been defined by everything and everyone except those who should be defining it black women. We get incorrectly lumped into white feminist ideals which in a lot of ways are contradictory to being a black woman if you consider the foundation which never considered us as women at all.  White women in fact are often more inclined to be accepting of the traditional narrative and its further implications on the state of black womanhood, but that is an entirely different blog altogether.

Being that sexuality is the state of being sexual, often people limit it to just the actual acts of sex themselves. Sexuality is so much more than that. It is thoughts, desires, presence,  preference, and can also be a representation of us at times. The expression of our sexuality is often times where we come into contention with others. For women it is often in the form of unwanted advances, and unsavory assumptions about the nature of our character.  It has always lead me to wonder is it even possible to openly express sexuality as a woman? Furthermore, as a black woman?  

As a black woman society has already in essence decided for me that I am promiscuous and a ‘freak’.  Thereby once I proclaim, present, and or discuss my sexuality outwardly in any fashion I am also unwittingly accepting the preconceived notion of who I am. Let’s look at a few examples. I can not perform any poetry of a sexual nature, outward discussion/expression, without accepting that it will incur unfavorable invitations.  In the same vein I can not walk, present my sexuality naturally, without similar issues and assumptions. In relationships often when we ask for sex, proclaim, we become the whore. Now I know at this point a lot of you are like this happens to me, this happens to all women.  Yes it does. But unlike women of other races, black women are raised with a hypersensitivity to their sexuality and what it implies. Furthermore we’ve been unwillingly cast into one of two roles, the homely nonsexual character or the whore.

All of this can lead to a great deal of guilt, shame, repressed emotions and unwanted sexual frustration. It also further implicates the nature of rape culture in America and why it is more acceptable to blame black female victims, but I digress again that is another blog. My personal guilt and shame ultimately became repressed sexual desire.  I shifted more towards the anonymity of asexuality.

I attempted to fit into the classic; lady in the streets, freak in the sheets model only to be met with severe disdain by my ex husband.  I wasn’t able to initiate sex without accusations and name calling, which ultimately would to be the same for enjoyment of sex. Add to that his propensity to cheat and over time I became ashamed of my body and it’s responses to pleasure.

As a woman naturally men notice you,  so that became another point of contention. I would attempt to fit into the background noise so to speak for fear of being noticed.  I only dressed on rare acceptable occasions in a way that complimented my body. I remained that way well after I was divorced, until I began to write erotic poetry and short stories.

Writing eroticism helped me begin to open up to myself and to my partner about my desires in the bedroom.  I began to take ownership of how I perceive myself and the me that I wanted to project to the world.  The idea finally solidified that my sexuality was just that mine.  It wasn’t defined by 100s of years of European standards, or male fragility it was what I made it. My sexuality became whatever I wanted it to be and I could show it off or hide it without shame.  

The best of it all was knowing I am not obligated to share it, explain it, excuse or define it. I’m honestly still not 100% sure how I feel about sex in and of itself, while I own my sexuality I have never been engaged with a partner who was open to me being open to myself. At the end of the day I know I own it and that is powerful. And in regards to my sexuality, well what can I say it’s sexy af…….

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Masturbation is Illegal ~ Native Child

I was 13, when it was revealed to me
Through some self-exploration,
That spot beginning with the seventh letter of the alphabet…
It was then I discovered that orgasms come in pairs,
Like shoes…
And if I kept my hand steady…
I’d have a new pair every time…

That was until one night I was violated
By the sound of my grandma knocking
Asking me if my stomach hurt because of all the moaning
She pushed the door open and found me naked,
From the waist down, with my hands
Between the places my mother told me where babies came from…
And said, “You know that’s illegal?”

So I removed my hand from that southern place
I had just begun to be acquainted with and contemplated the idea,
“Masturbation is illegal?”
So do they ticket you for your first offense?
Do you pay a hefty fine?
Or do they give you a warning, the first time?
Would I be housed in a cell?
Eating bologna sandwiches and drinking little hug juices
While women named Big Mattie and Lola asked me, “
What are you in for?”

Big brother was watching and
I shuddered at the thought of my day in court,
As they read the charges,
“People versus the Masturbator!”
I shuddered at the thought and
Tucked away all the urges I had
And lived in constant fear every time
I saw a police car drive by…

It wasn’t until I was sixteen and a girl named Sophia
Explained after laughing for twenty minutes about my claim,
“So you can’t go to jail for that?”
“Masturbation isn’t illegal?”
“So you won’t have hairy palms, go blind, or go insane?”
I was relieved to discover that the wondrous exploration of self-pleasure
That platform of personal organized eager acts of love had no ties to the law…
No bologna sandwiches or little hug juices,
Just an ambitious breathless journey to
That seventh letter in the alphabet for a new pair of shoes…

 

 

Kelly “Native Child” Mays is a School-Based Therapist for Hegira Programs, Inc, teaches community education classes at the YMCA, as well as facilitates numerous groups in her community aimed at emotional growth. She received her Bachelors of Science from Central Michigan University in Community Development, and her Masters of Science from the University of Phoenix in Mental Health Counseling.  Currently she is pursuing her Doctorate in Counseling from Walden University.

Continue reading Masturbation is Illegal ~ Native Child

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Poetry Break: You Pulled My Hair (live)

This was my first time reading at one of my favorite venues, The Crossroads theater in the historic Five Points Neighborhood which is currently being gentrified. This theater is one of the many things the new inhabitants are wanting to eradicate, I encourage you to go support something there be it poetry or a show. Many thanks to Slam Nuba for allowing me space on the mic

You can get this poem and several others in my book Life:Love and Lust