I was scared of my sexuality.
I used to be terrified to look beautiful or sexy. I hid myself away in hip-hop pants and loose shirts, or jeans and T-shirts. And I used to be scared of my natural, sensuous, sensual urges. I would hide them. Even from myself—hysterical, right?
Then, I came to learn that my greatest mother wound is related to my sexuality and sensual nature.
Something that I noticed my mother lacked was that she was always busy being a mother and a wife—but not a woman in her own right.
What my mom knew about her sexuality and feminine sensuality, she’d passed on to me, and that was: shame, guilt, hide away, stay silent, don’t ask for what you desire—do you even have any erotic desires in the first place? How dare you. Shame on you.
These were all clear messages I’d received growing up. My period was a shame. My erotic self was a shame. My erotic desires were a big, huge shame. My naked thighs were a shame.
All my psyche repeated back to me was “shame on me.”
Living with these burdens—my mother and father wounds—I felt like I was a screwed up person. I could not feel the woman within me. I didn’t feel like I deserved soul-deep love and sex, so I settled for crumbs from absent, unavailable men.
Looking back at it, my mental and emotional state sucked. My love life was terrible. I was not living for myself. I was living the kind of life my mom and dad had unconsciously imprinted on me.
I had great grades at school. I worked prestigious jobs, and my parents were proud of me for that. As for me? I felt like a broken adult who did not exactly exist.
Then, finally, one day something snapped within me, and I had a breakdown. I yelled and screamed at my parents, and I cursed them like never before. They were shocked and worried—for my mental health. This breakdown also happened right when I realized I was working at jobs I didn’t like and living my life like a zombie, or on autopilot.
I fell into a severe depression that lasted around two years—all I wanted to do was be in nature and journal. I did not eat much or want to be around people. I felt allergic to my parents’ presence—I wanted them away. And they left me alone in my room, only checking on me once in a while.
I’d shocked my entire nervous system, and I’d shocked my parents’ nervous systems.
And it was time, goddamn it.
I’d been living an entirely repressed life, drowning into my own despair, and I could not fathom why. I wanted someone to pull me up, or I felt like I was going to die. I even started having out-of-body experiences. Vivid dreams. A longing to belong to myself or some other higher power.
And soon enough, I found myself out of my home and my country.
I landed in the United States three years ago. And these have been the most transformative and game-changing years of my entire life. I don’t know where the girl I used to be went. And to my big shock, my relationship with my parents has also completely shifted and transformed.
I forgave them by doing my inner work. I wholeheartedly forgave them and myself for the pain we’d caused each other.
After this burden was lifted from my shoulders, I embarked on a path of self-discovery and re-creating myself anew, a process that is still happening every day, with new decisions and choices.
Now I am coming closer to the woman within me.
The one who has a desire for erotic, sensual self-expression with my half naked body—modeling, or pole dancing bikini shows, or twerking practice, or anything that I find appealing and a little exposing.
I am building a new relationship with my body, mind, and heart as my body transforms and opens up to dance and movement.
I am more aware of my sexual blocks and what is still hurting or healing within me in regards to my sexual and sensual expression as a female and woman in progress.
I love my body more now. I allow it to speak through sexy outfits or half-nude pics. I allow it to speak through dance moves that others find “too sexual” or “too explicit,” but I honestly don’t give a sh*t what others think of me anymore. It’s not my concern.
All I know is that I have this fire dragon within me, blended with a sensual goddess with a mouthful of explosive truths, mixed with a slaying queen who cuts off all types of bullsh*t that shows up at her door.
Now I have clear boundaries and I demand to be respected. If not, you are out. Or I leave. Or both.
Now, I’m finally allowing myself to feel into my sensual nature because that makes me a woman. And our body is an important bridge to our sensuality and sexuality.
After decades of disconnection, I am reconnecting with my precious body and its hunger to feel, to touch and be touched, to expose and be exposed, to move and be moved, to express, to speak through bare skin, to tell its story through a favorite outfit, to open up and feel its erotic urges deeply, and to transmute my sexual life force into creativity.
As I heal my mother wound, so is my mother healing her wounds. Now, my mom is my biggest fan when I send her my half-nude photos of me dancing on a pole. My father is joining the fan club too—slowly, as he sheds his conditioning at 75 years old.
When we take responsibility for healing ourselves and our wounds from our parents, our parents (at least in my experience) will start healing themselves too.
And our relationship with our parents will shift dramatically. Because we have decided to become real, to live authentically from our own hearts. “As within, so without,” as the saying goes.