Becoming A Sexual Being
By: Maya Mascoll
When I was younger, my mother sat me down one night and turned on the movie “Kids,” which followed these high school kids and their experiences with sex and drugs. I had to be in middle school, maybe even a bit younger than that, but I had already been exposed to sex, so the movie wasn’t a shock to me.
My mother did everything in her power to educate me about all of the risks involved in having sex, especially in having unprotected sex. I knew what STDs were and how they were spread. I was convinced that I would probably be the last person on Earth who would have sex. Funny, huh?
As I got a bit older and explored what I liked about my body and how I liked to be touched, I saw myself forming these different ideas about sex. Sex wasn’t this evil act that would doom me to a life of antibiotics or sentence me to an eternity with a baby on my hip; it was something that was pleasurable and good. By 15, I knew exactly how to touch myself to make myself feel good, and by the time I started to have sex, I was able to identify where and how I wanted to be touched.
However, becoming a sexual being didn’t happen overnight, or just because my mother showed me a film when I was younger. I think that becoming a sexual being is just admitting that sex is fun, sex is lots of fun, and sex doesn’t have to be everything people try to shove down your throat.
Some women like being tied up, choked, and gagged, while others enjoy the more conventional kinds of sex. And both are okay.
Slut-shaming in our society has encouraged women’s dulling and sexual appetites while also praising men for theirs and even creating a whole market catering to heterosexual men and their sexual urges.
Women have always gotten the short end of the stick when it comes to sex, and it becomes blatantly clear even in the music that we hear today. Women aren’t supposed to rap about the raunchy, sexy parts of sex, but men can throw around all types of words and scenarios because they are the ultimate sexual beings. Women are the gateway to their pleasure.
When I experienced my sexual awakening, it felt more like a nudging into what I was already sure was right for me. I only allowed men access to my body if it felt right, and I afforded them pleasure when they gave me the pleasure I was looking for. It was learning that some men liked things that I didn’t and knew exactly where to bring a woman the most joy—knowing that my tastes were not the same as my best friend’s, but that I was allowed to like my loving a certain way.
As a woman who loves sex, has sex and enjoys it, I am confident in my sexuality. My sensuality is my power. It oozes from my curves and rests on the shine of my lips. It is what feeds my womanhood and strengthens my femininity.