finding my enjoyment: pleasure as an act of liberation – marlo w.
“twenty-five has been an unraveling of all the things i used to be. Audre Lorde declared, ‘for the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing’. and I feel damn good doing it.”
via unsplash.
i honestly believed that my consensual encounters always had pleasure in mind. and oftentimes, to my detriment. there was something enchanting about a lay on the first night that fizzled into a tumultuous two year situationship. there was something empowering about lying to all the male lovers in my life. i was mesmerized by scandalous taboos and the passion and thrill of it all. until i wasn’t. how coincidental that i thought “erotic” was synonymous with the covers and plot-lines of my mama’s Zane books, a popular series of Black erotic fiction when i was growing up in the early 2000’s.
Audre Lorde defines the erotic as “a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self (the unknown) and the chaos of our strongest feelings”. the erotic is the journey of not knowing and finding oneself. it’s discovering what one enjoys, what gives one pleasure, the confidence to advocate for oneself, and create boundaries. the erotic is the little tick that musters one’s creativity, what draws connection and mutuality. it is the shedding of our past selves and the tight skin of our new one. the erotic is compassion for ourselves and others. and in this exploration one comes into their own and becomes fully fulfilled.
how coincidental that i thought sexual liberation only existed in the socialized norms i was taught. not only that but my version of sexual liberation simultaneously existed with ideologies i acquired from white supremacy, my own traumas, respectability politics, and other spaces not authentic to me.
how could i truly center my own pleasure when i didn’t know who i was, what i liked, and what i truly desired? i thought i had an understanding of what i liked, but noticed that i was enjoying less and less the sex i was having, the men i was encountering, and the way i was being treated.
i have realized everything that has transpired up until now has shaped who i am today,and that is erotic. shedding your past self is like letting go of an old lover.
exploring my sexuality has allowed me to swallow my shame about being queer and experience a healthy fulfilling relationship with a woman. therapy has allowed me to develop my sense of self, allowing me to establish boundaries and say “no” without feeling guilty. it has allowed me to feel–to be sad and cry in my pillow, then take a shower, and watch tiktok until i fall asleep. it has allowed me to have sex without worrying how my body will be perceived. and how to rock my afro in the club and feel sexy. how to be vulnerable with my partners, be honest, and take accountability when i have hurt feelings. i’ve let go of chasing thrills and i now desire mutuality and healthy intimacy. i desire “thinking of you” texts and have abstained from sexual rendezvous on first dates.
twenty-five has been an unraveling of all the things i used to be. Audre Lorde declared, “for the erotic is not a question only of what we do; it is a question of how acutely and fully we can feel in the doing”. and i feel damn good doing it.
Marlo is a two-time published poet, self-retired music blog intern, and a sweet baby cancer. when she’s not trying to survive her first recession, the aftermath of a global pandemic, patriarchy, global warming, capitalism, and everything else that white supremacy has infilttrated, she is writing poems and essays about love, grief, and her overall experience as a black woman in Chicago.
BY MARLO W. (she/her)
IG: @marleauxx
