i like the sticky

This is a less sciencey, more airy fairypost. My sister would call it “fruity.” Touchy feely. Because I had a rough night.

See, I like the sticky – I mean, the sticky aspects of being human and having sex. It’s a thing for me; part of being sex positive is being comfortable with the organic parts of sex. As part of a lovingkindness meditation, though, I tried imagining the experience of a person who genuinely believed her body’s fluids were disgusting and that it was RIGHT to find her fluids disgusting.

I had to cut the meditation short and switch to a body-positive meditation because I felt like I was poisoning myself, so powerful was the sensation of rejecting my own organism; and still the feeling of self-hatred clung to me all night, like a lingering cold or a well-aimed kick.

How wrenching it must be to live inside a body whose functioning causes disgust, how raw, how crippling. During my meditation, I literally gasped for air, flooded and drowning in the need to love ALL OF YOU out there, as if I could heal with love and acceptance all of you who reject your own organism, or who have been rejected for your organism. I love you, my heart chants to the universe, I love you all, you’re safe, you’re well, you’re loved, you’re home, home because you’re in your body.

If I love you, there’s room in my heart for the inevitable byproducts – sticky, wet, aromatic – of being alive. While your pulse beats, your body battles infection and digests nutrients and absorbs water and cools and heats itself; while you live, in other words, you produce fluids, and those fluids have taste and smell and texture and temperature. And while your pulse beats and I love you, I love the blood and mucus and myoglobin and sweat and acids that thrum with salts and electricity to keep you here on the earth with me.

Love is messy, friends. I hope, I hope, I desperately hope that you are loved.

I want the world to be learned, impartial, and very relaxed about fluids. I want my ER nurse to be utterly cool if I come in with a nearly-severed finger. I want my ob-gyn to take it in her stride when she’s dealing with blood, baby, placenta, and vagina. I want my partner to say yes to sex when I’m menstruating. I want YOUR partner to say yes to sex when either of you is menstruating. I want love to include, to embrace, to relish the bodies of lovers.

My sister said, “You should quote ‘The Body Electric.” Yeah I should!

Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
[…]
If any thing is sacred the human body is sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood untainted,
And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is more
beautiful than the most beautiful face.

The sag. The jiggle. The ooze. The wet spot. I had a rough night last night, see. That happens when I’m confronted with the punishing scale of the things I’m trying to change out there.

I think bodies are gifts, and I want you to believe it too. I like the sticky.

No. No. I LOVE the sticky.