8.23.22<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Precipice of Healing<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stand on the precipice of change and growth. The brink of a cliff that will destroy the mask of who I thought I was, who I thought I was allowed to be. Each time I jump off it, I land upon another cliff, delving deeper and deeper into the truth of who I am. I stand upon one now, peering off the edge, unsure why I hesitate. Unsure why my stomach churns and my bones ache. I sit, letting my feet dangle in open air, and I invite a friend to sit with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We talk long hours about sex, and kink, and intimacy. We devolve into its relationship with trauma, with how we grew up, with how we struggle with certain things now. I share I struggle initiating, how it takes me ages within my mind to work up the courage. There is fear of rejection, sure, but there is fear stemming from another source, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We bond over likely being hypersexual, due to the religious trauma inflicted upon our minds. There is laughter here, a sort of joy at not being alone in the diagnosis. We talk about times we were wet all day, longing for the touch of our partner. And we talk about the agony of worrying we\u2019re \u201ctoo much.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s what sparks it – the beginning of the realization. Those whispers, the ones that churn my stomach, that make me hesitate on this peak – they say the worst things about desire. They call me dirty. They call me wrong. They call me sick. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fear initiating, because I fear being dirty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fear lusting, because I fear being wrong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fear how much I desire her, because I fear being sick. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Part of me worries she will think these things of me, that my desire will be frustrating, inconvenient, sinful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I pause there, musing over that word. Sinful. Religion has once again wrapped its coils around me, traumatized me in a way I didn\u2019t realize. It has made me feel like my want is somehow wicked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I muse over a memory, bringing it forward from where I stored it away for safety. Often, I ask pointed questions for reassurance, specifically worded for me to weaponize against my own mind so that I might continue to heal. I asked my girlfriend an age ago if she found my desire levels upsetting. And she laughed and said \u201coh god, no.\u201d I remember the warmth and acceptance I felt then, as I laid on her chest, smiling into her breasts. I remember how it felt to be washed clean of any \u201cdirtiness\u201d from my desire – because she found no fault in it. She saw nothing wrong in me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stand on the cliff again, thanking my friend for their time. I think it is time to heal this specific wound. And so I tell my girlfriend what I\u2019m working on healing next, before I leap off the edge. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
8.23.22 Precipice of Healing I stand on the precipice of change and growth. The brink of a cliff that will destroy the mask of who I thought I was, who I thought I was allowed to be. Each time I jump off it, I land upon another cliff, delving deeper…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"A piece about healing s3xual trauma induced by religion. Mostly SFW!","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[525],"tags":[794,158,157,12,814,238,881,114,97,37],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p27tjX-CV","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2413"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2414,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2413\/revisions\/2414"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2413"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2413"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/winter-publishing.com\/welcome-to-winter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2413"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}