DISCALIMER - Mom + Dad - if you read this here blog of mine, here’s your warning that you’re going to read some things here that are.…well…you’ll just read some things. Choose wisely.
Journey with me, dear reader, two decades into the past. A tiny, tanned, wondrous version of Stef - perhaps still pretty fresh out of the “bangs” phase of her life, never to return.
“Where do babies come from?” she asks from the backseat of her mom’s car, not knowing what the fuck she’d just done to herself.
Bless my mother, man. I have no fucking idea what she actually said to me in response to the question I’m sure all parents ready themselves to be asked. Which, let’s be clear, I was just parroting off of TV or something. Was I really, genuinely curious? Probably not.
Let’s quickly add some context here. Was I genuinely wondering about the cocktail of factors that created a human life? Not MY eight-year-old self, fam. But had I already - unbeknownst to me - begun to interact with my sexuality? 1000% yes. That’s a long and complex story that I’ll save for…well maybe sometime soon actually.
*we cut back to the backseat with our young heroine having basically forgotten the question as soon as she asks it*
Sometime within the next couple of days, we find her at Barnes & Noble with mom. Mom, somewhere off in the children’s area of things in a particular section young Stef would soon vow to avoid like the GD plague. Stef, wandering blissfully alone elsewhere - naturally.
This story is about to take a big turn on young Stef’s mood.
She is summoned shortly after they get home, to mom’s room where she is sitting on the bed and invites Stef to sit beside her. There is a book in her hand.
The exact dialogue is very “Charlie Brown-esque” to be honest with you. I do recall that she asked me if my friend Hannah had told me anything about sex (Hannah was for sure the kind of girl your parents expect to have told you about this stuff, and to be fair - she definitely had. Very informative, she was. High five, motherly instincts!), but other than that the entire verbal exchange is a mystery in the caves of my memory.
What I recall in crystal clarity, is some child-friendly illustrations of naked male and female bodies, and the first few harrowing details about what the hell happens with those things. The entire exchange lasted about 2 minutes before I promptly excused myself from the room.
*read - ran out crying.
We never talked about sex again.
Again - bless my mother.
From there on out, the entirety of my sexual landscape was painted by the information I absorbed from the world around me. My friends, their (I’m sure extremely awkward) adolescent encounters, pop culture (you see some shit on The Real World in case you forgot), and whatever else I was unconsciously sponging off of the societal and cultural narratives that existed around me. I think I just pieced together some rough context clues when in 8th grade, I got a text from a guy I’d liked since 4th grade, that read “would you let me eat you out/finger you?” - verbatim. I honestly hope I said something besides “lol sure” but considering I did in fact let him do both of those things about a year later - probably not.
*let it be known that I regret nothing bc it was awesome
**(the 9th grade equivalent of “awesome” oral sex - that is)
***the stunning irony is that his last name was Eder - pronounced exactly how you think
Anyway, I fucking winged it. And my parents and I never circled back to have a real conversation (or conversationS, plural - gasp) about sex.
WHY am I telling you this story?
Because if I had to guess, it’s not that different from yours. And if that’s true and if you’re anything like me, you reached a point where you began asking questions about what sex even really is.
I think most of us want to have great sex - I know I do! What I also want though, is to rewrite the stories I unconsciously wrote about how what “great sex” actually means. What I know now through my own extensive study, research, practice and healing, is that great sex has nothing to do with whether or not we both cum at the “end”.
Today, I’d honestly tell you that I could care less about “getting off” (as we typically think about that) as it relates to my sexual encounters. I’m no longer measuring those exchanges in these societally engrained, linear and quantified ways. Great sex, for me in this current expression of myself, means that I am listening and communicating. It means that I am actively become more and more aware of where I am in my body, what my desires AND needs are, what my capacity is, and what my expectations are as I relate either to myself, another person, or any other way I might interact with my sexual, creative energy.
Today, I think boundaries + communication are sexy. Today, I FULLY believe that we can have encounters that allow us to deepen our relationship to self - through our connection to another person - whether we enjoy one night or a lifetime with a partner. I believe what is momentary can be as transformative and significant as what sustains. Today, I have sex that shifts the narrative for our entire planetary collective and consciousness. Today, I work with the energy of sexuality with awareness, curiosity, and immense creativity. Today, I still have encounters where I feel messy and awkward, AND those are wrought with awareness and they teach me so much about where I am in my own story and what I still need to work on and breathe love into. Today, sex is an experience - a journey inward and upward- not a finish line.
Listen, I don’t KNOW what talk you got. But I know the one we should ALL get. And I’d like to invite you to experience that one.
If you want a conscious, connected, healing version of “the talk” - come hang out on Monday at 7pm EST (click here for the link). We’ll get into becoming more aware of ourselves as it relates to what we want, how to communicate, and what the fuck sex really is and can be. All genders, spiritual beliefs, orientations and inquiries - welcome.
"Dear young Stef,
I’m SO glad you asked…”