I have a secret. I've kept this secret for years - for most of my life actually. I've kept it because I feared misunderstanding, misinterpretation, punishment, retribution. So I've kept my secret and not let it into the light.
You see - I am a woman who loves...something that nice women don't love. Something nice girls don't do - or at least they don't admit to. My secret is not something isolated in one particular part of me, but is wholly integrated into everything I do. Everything I see, taste, touch, smell, hear is part of this secret, this power in me, this energy.
I've struggled with my secret for so long, suffered so many bad experiences and tried to make myself fit into someone else's vision of what kind of woman I should be. I've finally realized that trying to shape myself into these other visions has meant denying the very thing that I love about...sex. I've been denying my own powerful, passionate, sexual, sensual self. When I let this secret out into the world, I get hurt. I make mistakes. I use others and am used by others. And now, there is no one I can trust. Especially not myself.
I am a woman who loves sex. Not anonymous, serial, one-nighter sex. But powerful relationship sex where that energy is a connection, a bond freely entered into with another. Passion and play. Intimacy and skin. Trust and honesty. Hot, sweaty, steamy, wet, fabulous, erotic sex.
It's very hard to be a woman who loves sex and live alone. You can't tell men that you love sex, because they will never look beyond the sex and see the whole woman that is waiting to give herself to them. You can't tell other women because they are just as afraid of their own secrets. You can't tell your mother or your sister. And you want to tell your daughter, so she won't have to keep her secret. But you can't.
I'm not a slut. I'm not a nymphomaniac. I'm not on the hunt or in heat. I'm not looking for a good time or a fast ride. I'm a deeply passionate, caring, honest, real woman, who lives alone and is pretty sure she'll be alone for the rest of her life. And it's very hard to think that I'll never find that relationship. That one person who wouldn't be afraid of my secret. That certain someone who'd find it an important element of me - but not the sum of me. I'd like to believe that I can trust someone with my secret. I'd like to think that someone would be willing to uncover the whole person and appreciate everything I've struggled to accept about myself. But I just don't think it's possible. I don't think I can be safe anymore. I don't think it's safe to be me in the world. I just don't trust anyone anymore. Least of all - myself.