Let me first give a heartfelt thank you to all of you men who have shared (or have offered to share) your bodies with me, in any capacity. That’s a gift that I do not take lightly. What puzzles me, though, is why you can’t recognize your own appeal. (more…)
Since the last time I visited the Hirshhorn Museum in D.C. a few years ago, which was the first time I’d been since I was maybe seven years old, one work of art has remained fixated in my mind and left within me a lasting, emotional impression.
Big Man, by Ron Mueck, is a larger-than-life sculpture of a round, hunched, naked, scowling man. In person, I found him to be breathtaking. He bears a look of tired frustration across his brow and jaw, and fleshy curves across his abdomen. His skin is wrinkled, dimpled, and splotched.
Painful sex — when you’re not into pain — is a devastating reality about which far too few of us are talking. Ladies, we need to start speaking up to each other, our partners, and ourselves.
“It’s sure as hell not getting any better, is it? You’ve slept with four men now — three of them long-term boyfriends — and it’s hurt every time. Every single time. With condoms, without condoms, with lube, without lube. It doesn’t matter how turned on you are, how badly you want them, or how badly you want it to just please, for the love of God, work. It hurts every time. When he puts it in, when he thrusts, when he pulls it out, and for a half hour afterward. Sometimes it feels like your body just won’t let him in; the muscles that should be soft and giving, that shouldn’t feel like muscles, are tight and tense. You want to give him sex. You have no give. It’s like trying to dig change out of firm and tightly packed couch cushions, getting him in, and when you push him through the tension, you’d swear he’s tearing a hole in you.”
(Also shared on The Huffington Post)