dips in desire
on listening to my body & allowing myself to just be
On the day of the election, I planted tulip bulbs in the garden out front of my apartment. I dug through the dirt with a small shovel, pulling out the roots of fennel plants that had been taking over the small plot. Nestling in the bulbs, I covered them with dirt and then watered them, hoping that I hadn’t planted them too late.
Early in March, I looked outside and saw that the bulbs were already sprouting through the earth. It felt strange that it was still winter, and they were already making their way above ground — but it also felt inspiring in a way. These flowers had made it through the cold nights and the winter Seattle rain, just to find their way to the sunshine.
Now they’re in full bloom, bright against the dirt beneath them.
Ever since my friend’s passing and the election and the political chaos of the past few months, I’ve had a strange relationship with my sexuality. There are the occasional times where all I can think about is the sex that I want to be having or the sex that I have been having. There are other days (most of the time) where even taking my clothes off feels like it’s too much to ask, let alone allowing myself to open to eroticism and pleasure.
There’s a piece of me that wants to fix it and push myself to be more sexual and be all “pleasure is a fuck you to fascism” and it is.
It is.
But I’m trying to give myself grace and just acknowledge that the answer doesn’t lie in pushing myself to do anything that my body is saying no to. I’m reminding myself that having a dip in my sexual desire is a totally normal response to grief and fear and anxiety and anger. I’m attempting to offer myself a little water and some nutrient rich soil, some reassurance that it’s okay to be resting in this bulb state.
Reminding myself that the time to bloom has absolutely nothing to do with whether I want to be blooming and everything to do with the right conditions.
Trusting that when my body is ready, I will bloom again.
p.s. hi again :) it’s been a long time since I’ve shared anything on here. I’ve shamed myself for that too, but as one of my friends said to me once, it’s hard to be vulnerable when you’re in a vulnerable place. I’m hoping to write more on here again and share more embodiment practices, but I’m also giving myself some room to go at the pace of my body. grief is hard. thank you for reading this and continuing to be here <3