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“Open your legs, Mami.”
His calloused hand caressed my knee closest to him. I could feel the care in his touch.
Cannabis smoke billowed out from between my legs as it washed over every inch of my yoni—kissing my labia, my clit, my opening. Every single cell was activated and felt as if they had expanded seven times their size and were turned on to their max capacity.
I let out a deep, from-my-womb moan as he followed the smoke with one slow tongue lap up my pussy. Perineum to clit. This is what I had asked the Gods for.
He was a worshiper. I had never had a relationship like this before. I had never had a man salivate at my scent or at the sight of me getting dressed for my day. But him? He was a man who breathed in every curve and switchback of a woman’s body, and mine was no exception. He would lie upon every roll and mound of fat, telling me how beautiful each area was, gifting my skin with soft kisses. His face was in between my legs every chance he got, drinking up every drop, moaning and moving with the motions of my spine and pelvis, exclaiming his pleasure in just pleasing me.
It was terrifying.
How could a man love every inch of my body so deeply? What did he want from me? Would I have to perform extra favors to equal what he was giving to me? All of these questions and more crossed my mind in the midst of our daily ecstasy. So much so that I would subconsciously start fights and claim that he would never be able to handle me.
The truth that I know now is that I couldn’t handle him. His love and acceptance of me at my worst was overwhelming.
I had just broken up with the first man that I had truly loved. One who healed childhood wounds and took on a bit of a father-like roll in our relationship—paying for my lifestyle, checking in daily to make sure I had eaten, and listening to me cry every night about how difficult my family life had been. He was a wonderful man and someone who I thought I was going to have children with. He just was not one who saw me as the Goddess that I know so deeply I am. So even though I was the one to end our relationship, my heart was shattered into an oblivion.
He, this new man, and I had been friends for a few years prior, bonding over our love of fitness, travel, poetry, and cannabis. He was a classically handsome Hispanic man with a body sculpted by Shiva himself—but not what I usually go for, so when I had asked if he would want to begin a friends-with-benefits type of relationship (so that I could get over my previous partner), I didn’t think I’d be meeting God during our sex.
Our first “date” started at 7 a.m. for a coastal hike in my neighborhood. I didn’t know at the time, but he hated hiking. It wasn’t his thing. But it was mine so he came along, and I showed him my most treasured and secluded spots that I go to connect with source. We spent the entire day laughing, talking mindfulness, business, and about our dreams of buying our mothers homes one day. That same night we sat on a park bench, looking at stars when he posed the question,“What’s on your mind?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing was running through my mind unlike my newly developed daily anxiety that showed up with a panic from the moment I awoke. I was in a blissful meditative state, safe and being held by the masculine. So, I turned around and kissed him. Hard and with passion. We did not have sex that day, but we had planned to spend that Thursday together, getting to know each other’s bodies. What I was not aware of was that he was going to become the greatest lover of my life to date. And that we both had met our match. We had no idea we were going to activate deep wounds and trauma within each other for our own individual healing.
The months that followed were a whirlwind of intense, unintentional tantric pleasure and trauma responses of freeze and fight within us both. Again, came the questions, why is he loving me so hard? Why am I responding this way? This is all I’ve ever wanted. I deserve this! But did I?
Margot Anand mentions in Love, Sex and Awakening that in tantric traditions, a woman needs to approach orgasm via seven levels of release in order to touch the root of her power. Each level is indicated by certain responses upon surrender at each, going deeper and deeper into erotic pleasure. His worship not only of my body but of who I am at my core brought me to my power each and every single time we had sex or even just seeing his smile. He sent me into a ride of awakening that I am still currently on. He was also the first man ever to break things off with me and stand firmly in his boundaries after deciding my trauma tantrums were too much. There was no swaying him with my words, tears, or sexual offers.
I now know that within my previous relationships before him, my self-worth had slowly diminished into nothingness. I wasn’t worshiped for my essence but for my physical body and what my mouth was capable of accomplishing. I was lusted after for the way I could force myself to orgasm quickly, multiple times, and create a show with squirting every now and again if I wanted to. I was a showcase piece to those who I thought I had loved. I didn’t feel I deserved any of his full-bodied love and worship.
Toward the end of our relationship, I made the decision to seek out a therapist. I wanted to save us. To save myself from ruining the gift I was given. But by the time I started to make progress and dig deep into my subconscious fears from a lifetime of physical and emotional pain, he had made his final decision that he would return to his ex-lover before me, and I would never taste or be tasted by him again. I wanted to fully die and be sent back to where my soul had come from.
As much as I desired and missed him, I knew I had to rediscover this worth and power of mine without him. I owed that much to myself. Through a two-year journey of various therapies and tantric healing, I have found not only my worth and power but forgiveness for myself in willingly giving away everything that I had to all of those men who chose to misuse me. And forgiveness for them as well.
Within this journey, I have also found my purpose in life—in showing other women that their worth and pleasure is right there inside of them. That if they are willing to go into the depths of their darkness and create light, they will find that they are their own. That they do, in fact, deserve to be worshiped and loved fully.
Thank you, for allowing me to tell our story and for awakening the Goddess. Te amo siempre, Papi.