Vaginas are Portals to the Unmanifested

Prefer to listen? Here’s the sound cloud link to audio for “Vaginas are Portals to the Unmanifested” read by yours truly.

For the last couple of months, I’ve awaken from my sleep with no place to be. For the first few days it was really giving my mind a flipping workout. Oh how my mind loves to take situations of which it has never dealt with to try and make sense of it; to fold it ever so neatly and place it in a cute little box, perfectly wrapped for the season and say, “Here you are, Victoria; the perfect solution.” How does one come up with the perfect solution to an issue you’ve never encountered? How Sway? Your mind will have you convinced of the lies you tell yourself.

Yes, the perfect solution backed by repetitious behavior patterns and familiar learned responses that haven’t worked out once for you, yet. I mean what’s a girl to do every single morning with no place to be; no one besides me to carry me into the temporary bliss of orgasmic forgetfulness. Although it is a familiar state of being, it was out of place for me in my recently acquired position as an educator. Dealing with such would require quite a bit a of reprogramming…but from how or where?

I went for a walk. I talked on my walk. At first, I talked to myself. Then I started talking to the the little black dot in the upper left corner of my phone screen. This just felt like something I needed to capture…purposes yet unknown.

I took a short trip. First, to SoFlo where Mike met the kids. Then a longer, one to Colorado with my sisters. It’s what I do in these situations. I leave. Funny thing I’ve noticed is that as often as I leave these situations, these situations never leave me.

After each of my getaways, I got exactly what I needed. I needed to refresh in order to process this particular situation with renewed perspective. I needed the space to separate manic from manna which requires a significant amount of manual labor if you will. Here, I understood that this was a situation that did not require a solution and certainly not one I could offer from my own mind.

Seeking Guidance

Prior to entering the Universal year 11 that is 2018, I asked what I might need to bring on the journey into the new year. After two days of meditation alone in my place, the answer was a single word: COURAGE.

I printed an image of Courage the Cowardly Dog, traced and painted him on canvas, then hung the piece on my bedroom wall as a sign post not unlike the ones in the Colorado mountains reminding you to take caution in the curves ahead; Caution not fear. Those signs didn’t say don’t go nor did they say turn back– I just understood this. Any who, I brought Courage into 2018 with me. I didn’t know what it meant or why I would need it. Although it is very, very clear to me, now.

courage the cowardly dog on canvas

Fast forward through one of the most amazing years of my life, hands down no competition, on the literal cusp of my 33rd year I find myself entering yet another season. The universe says to me, “Those old behavior and thought patterns can no longer serve you, here.” Thanks for the word. If old patterns won’t work, what of new ones, of any at all?

Lost yet again, I look to my cards…my guides often speak through them. The response came swift. “The answer is within,” they said. Still lost and now a bit frustrated, I decided to dive into “Becoming”, Michele Obama’s book I had preordered months prior and had just gotten around to downloading on Audible.

I love Michele Obama. She is exactly the bare-bones, January 17th Capriquarian I’d expect her to be (my birthday twin)…unlike Steve Harvey but then again, he’s also a man encouraging women to think like men (ewwww!). I was half hoping that reading about the life of a different person born on January 17th might offer some insight to my own life. It worked…kinda…not in the way I had expected.

Just as I was about to download Becoming, another book populated my phone screen…The Power of Now. I’ve known about this book for a while and I’ve owned it for perhaps a bit over a year and had been waiting to get my hands on it for longer than that. It ended up finding me in my usual place; lost among books in a thrift store. It was obviously time to read it now.

The (useless) Attack

There is a savage attack against sexual freedom and the freedom of sexual expression as we speak. You can educate yourself via this wonderfully written post by my blogging colleague, When will we stop fearing sex? Sorry guys, no more of my lady boobs on Tumblr.

Maybe it’s nothing and maybe it’s because the Universe is expanding at an extremely rapid rate (go look it up) and the fact that vaginas are portals to the unmanifested (you’re free to research this as well). It also might have a lot to do with the fact that the energy being released into a rapidly expanding universe is similar to that of the rapidly expanding waist lines of pregnancy in preparation for labor.

Colorado the beautiful!

Maybe it is because such a labor is used to give birth to new consciousness and I’m not talking breeding and procreation. You can keep pretending you don’t feel this energetic shift all you want. Pretending you can solve life situations with old muddled mind habits. You can’t. You could also write this off as a conspiracy theorist rant because that’s definitely an option, too.

I remember being in labor with my daughter and the midwife yelling for me to “wait, wait, wait,” because she wasn’t quite dressed to receive the birth. My daughter came through anyway and as a result, I received seven cute little stitches. Moral of the story…ready or not, here it comes.

Teen Pregnancy Revelation

This past August I attended a workshop at the Woodhull sexual Freedom summit about teen pregnancy. I’m not sure or at least I can’t recall what I might have been expecting to hear at this workshop. However I was not expecting to hear what I heard.

We’ve all been taught that teenage pregnancy is “bad”. Ask anyone and you’re likely to get the same kind of answer for the same kind of reason. What I learned at the workshop is why teens pregnancy is seen as a bad thing and why there is such a huge campaign against it.

You might think these stats come from maybe mortality rates, maybe health departments, maybe premature birth rates, perhaps even Child Protective Services, or something of that nature but no.

The facts are that individuals who become pregnant as teens are less likely to receive college degrees, less likely to hold “better paying” jobs, and therefore contribute less into the country’s GDP which is how much money the country makes. Makes total fucking sense to me, now!

In conclusion, teen pregnancy is a bad thing not because of the risk to the parents or the children but because of the lack of contribution to the revenue or the profit that this country makes.

You can look that up, too.

So if you’re expecting anyone to be honest about the uninvention of sex or if you’re accepting the whole, “We’re protecting our children,” speech as truth, I invite you to wake up. If there is any protection to be had, any that is necessary, knowing is the only protection there is.

Sexplorations

I love sex conferences. I learn more at sex conferences, particularly more things that interest me than I’ve learned at any formal institution I’ve ever attended. Interest may have been sparked at these institutions. For example, my interest in sex beyond the physical act was sparked in my GSU sex and society class junior year in college. However, this is not where or even when actual exploration of the subject occurred.

My exploration of sex actually came from a budding spiritual journey hence the name Pretty Pink Lotus Bud with reference to my pretty pink (*) spiritual journey that is constantly shedding old petals for new ones and all those other things that lotuses do and represent.

I launched this blog in February 2017 and attended my first conference just six month’s later thank’s to my blog squad and a beautiful crowd funding campaign that allowed myself as well as two others the financial privilege to embark on this journey of sexploration. I can say, never before had I been welcomed into any community with such embrace. Not in my own family, not in “work” family, and certainly not in any church family. I have made the most unexpected wonderful friendships with individuals all over the world of which sex is not a no options game. #relationshipanarchy

Since then, I’ve attended a number of conferences throughout the US and one in London.

During the most resent conference, I attended the Punany Politics workshop hosted by the legendary TyShaw. I could try and explain to y’all what this workshop was about, but I won’t. I couldn’t do it justice if I attempted. It was a language, spoken in english with several references to tribal deities that only my soul could understand. She was actually talking too fast for my mind to do anything with it and I’ve come to the conclusion that this is a great thing.

Me and TyShaw

Punany Politics

In 2010, I graduated from Georgia State University with a bachelor’s degree in marketing. With that degree came classes on macroeconomics and microeconomics, finance and accounting, and a ton of bullshit on supply and demand.

And with all this knowledge on supply and demand I’m still confused as to why I’m not legally allowed to use my pussy to capitalize on the riches that are on the other side of my orgasm.

It’s my pussy. All of this knowledge that I have about sex is my intellectual property. How does this capitalism thing work again? Never mind. I think I’m pretty familiar. It only works how mostly men making those muddled mind habit decisions I mentioned earlier believes it should work. That why part is what always gets me stuck.

Why do you care what I do with my pussy? Why is my pussy such a threat that you need to make its use for monetary purposes illegal? Why is my pussy such an issue that you need to make my individual choice to abort a pregnancy illegal? Why is my pussy such a threat that you do your best to make it illegal for me to even post pictures of it on the Internet?

Because vaginas are portals to the unmanifested and we are in labor to birth a vision this world could never perceive.

Pretty Pink Lotus Bud for sex-positive spaces; #WomensOrgasmMatter; the sexually liberated woman, proheaux, sex magic

Save the Tatas, Free the Nipple

As we bring the month of October to a close, let us give honor to those lovely peaks of flesh: boobs, breasts, tits, jugs, cans, hooters, knockers, melons, rack, etc, etc.

Breast cancer ain’t really my thing. I’m all for awareness, but there is just so many other things around it (capitalism) that just doesn’t sit well with me. It’s an energy thing and if you’d like to learn more in regards to black women/black bodies and breast cancer, you should definitely search Ericka Hart. As a breast cancer survivor, and sex educator and advocate, she offers so much more insight into this world than I ever could.

Even so, I fucking love my boobs. And for obvious reasons of the sexualization of women’s breast, the true depth of this statement will not be fully comprehensible to most.

Too many of us believe women’s breast are for male consumption. Nope. They are not. They are for infant consumption. This is where my love for breast originated at 7 years old, with the single hope that I might one day posses a set by which to nurse my own children.

Making their debut at a 34 B, my boobs were the loveliest mounds of flesh I’d ever laid eyes on. They were everything to me. Not even exaggerating 😆.

While other girls I knew who were as developed as I was at my same age took painstaking measures to hide or minimize their boobs in our small southern Bible belt town, I’d proudly put mine on display in low cut blouses and crop tops.

Of course me being the helpless, naive, temptress of a woman that I am, I was obviously putting my breast on display to get attention from boys and seduce grown men and not because I was simply excited to have breast and I genuinely enjoyed looking at them damn myself 😑.

Let the record show that a woman is capable of loving and furthermore appreciating her breast much more than a man ever could. Not even up for debate; that came from the source.

But again, everything that a man deems sexual about a woman is clearly for the attention of men even when said woman is lesbian. Oh, but I digress.

A decade after my girls made their debut, I gave birth to my first born. What an exciting moment!? I’d been fantasizing this moment since I was 7 years old. Talk about a dream come true.

I couldn’t wait to cradle her in my arms and nurse her into the perfect image of health as we continued to build this amazing and effortless bond on the outside. Being able to nurse my children from my own bossom, as my grandma so lovingly calls them, has been one of the most priceless and humanly authentic experiences of my life.

It’s baffling that so many people see the female nipple only as a sexual segue. Oh it is soooo much more; What a limiting perspective!

I wrote all that to say, yes, let us do the work (research) to save the tatas 🎗️, but let us also do the work to free the nipple ✊🏾✊🏾✊🏾.

Pretty Pink Lotus Bud for sex-positive spaces; #WomensOrgasmMatter; the sexually liberated woman, proheaux, sex magic

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Fuck Me Like a Gentleman

Last Thursday, I had the honor of performing for some beautiful Houstonian melanated people on the Nawfside. I don’t think I ever tell yall how much I love my people…lies…but not nearly enough ✊🏿. They’re the same ones I hung out with earlier this summer. You might remember from my insta-stories if you follow me on Instagram.

And for those who did not realize, yes, I am spoken word talented…sometimes. Spirit has given me some good pieces…they just don’t come that often (I’m working on that, too 👀). When I host people be expecting me to spit all evening and I be like, “Wait, wait, wait, I ain’t got but three poems; can I save at least one for next time?”….😆

I mean, I will be up in here hosting every OTHER Thursday for Slowed Down Thursday

(Warning:…
Shameless
Plug
ahead)

I performed one new piece and another piece that I’ve performed only a few times, but has been well received each time I’ve performed. The piece is entitled, “Fuck Me Like a Gentleman”; I call it my multidimensional woman poem. The last time I performed it was in Hollywood, FL On the B-Side with Ms. Ingrid B. ObbieWest was in the audience with his beautiful, deeply melanated Self ✊🏿. #hesofine

That man makes my vagina do kegels which intern causes my uterus and fallopian tubes do jumping jacks. And just to be clear, this particular reaction is completely energetic. Don’t worry about it if you don’t understand. Chile, let it be. You know what they say, “The Blacker the berry; the brighter the light.” No? That’s just me. Anyway, it’s the truth.

So last Thursday, I performed my multidimensional woman poem and it got the kind of standing ovation that I wasn’t really expecting. A 62 year old man sitting in the rear of the crowd near the entrance of the club stood up out of his seat and proclaimed quite loudly into the crowd that my poem made his dick hard. Yes, he used those exact words. He later confided that he doesn’t get aroused very often.

I’m definitely still high off of that fanning moment. My work has the power to arouse without touch. Not as though I didn’t already know that; a testimony is everything. It raises credibility…if you ever doubted me. Please See Audre Lorde’s Uses of the Erotic.

Hopefully, all of you reading will get to see me perform once these tickets go on sale.

Fuck Me Like a Gentleman explores the various dichotomies of being a woman and respectability politics in a user friendly, easy to digest, and comprehensible format. It uses simple language with minimal complexities and ambiguities which I can overdo sometimes when I write. The piece was inspired by the way I desire to be treated in and outside of the bedroom. This along with the way I dress, speak, or the way I move in this world does not determine my respectability. As you can imagine, I’ve heard my poem interpreted from a variety of perspectives which has been the most interesting thing of all.

How can what I’m saying be so different than what you’re hearing? I’m still trying to process that part. 🤔

After I finished the poem, the entire room was quiet for a brief moment then the ladies in the room began to nod in agreement, insert standing ovation, and there were still men arguing whether or not this is something that can actually be done…😣

“Fuck that treating like a gentleman shit; I’mma treat her ass like an animal,” one man responded.

And that’s probably because that’s how you want to treat her, right. Not because that’s how she asked to be treated or even how she wants to be treated.

I had to tell him, “That’s the best advice I can give you, sir and that came from the source so pay attention.” I’m just glad he paused to even consider that statement.

That was amazing and not in a good way. Imagine, a woman is standing before you, telling you how she desires to be treated yet you still decide that you will treat her how you want or believe you should treat her for whatever reason you use to excuse your behavior. Somebody help me pick up my bottom jaw off the floor. Wow, just wow! 😮🤯

We have so far to go with just the basics of consent…then there’s communication, connection, intimacy…so many other things that factor into great sex. And if your woman/vulva owning partner is not having back to back…what I call rolling orgasms complete with aftershocks then I’m pretty convinced your sex is not as great as you think it is. Say want you want and I’ll say what I will (wield). #fightme

The sixty two year old gentlemen later joined me at the stage where the conversation took a deeper turn. But ya’ll gonna have to wait for that one… Subscribe and to find out how that one went.

Pretty Pink Lotus Bud for sex-positive spaces; #WomensOrgasmMatter; the sexually liberated woman, proheaux, sex magic

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Sometimes we think of sex toys as replacements for actual sexual intercourse but what are they really for.

I don’t need a toy; I need the real thing 🍆

You will find the word sex toy a lot in this post since it is indeed about sex toys. In the finale of the summer 100, you will find that I have linked the words “sex toy(s)” to several awesome sex toy stories and reviews so that you can discover the world of sex toys from a variety of perspectives! 🤗

Sometimes we think of sex toys as replacements for actual sexual intercourse but what are they really for.

What is the purpose of sex toys anyway?

Are they for…

A) relaxation
B) pleasure or
C) a replacement for actual intercourse

This past May my child-free friend, Christy invited all of her friends with children over to her home for a nice little barbecue and pool party. 🏊

As we gathered for drinks and conversation, I told the ladies a little bit about who I am and what I do as a sex blogger. I gave them each a copy of my business card and of course, my women’s orgasms matter button and we started in on a conversation about sex toys.

“I have one,” one of the ladies shared. “I’ve been using it a lot since I’ve been single.”

“I don’t need a sex toy,” another one said. “I need the real thing.”

Sex toys are cool; I have a few, but I have a man now though so I haven’t used them in awhile.” the last one shared.

“Well, Vikki can certainly tell you anything you need to know about sex toys and her blog is so amazing 🥰,” my friend Christy chimed in.

Although, I know this isn’t totally true, the fact that I have mad resources thanks to my sex blogger posse filled with toy reviewers, I could certainly get these ladies all the information they desired.

Sex Toys & Group Think

In retrospect, I can recall many situations of both directly and indirectly associating the use of toys with being single or not having a person there to assist me in fulfilling my sexual desires. In my mind, that’s what sex toys were for.

As each of us shared our stories about our experience with sex toys, how we use them, and the purpose we see in sex toys, I begin to notice a theme and it was not unlike my own thoughts about sex toys before embarking on my blogging journey and eventually the 30-day orgasm fun challenge.

Why do we believe the things we believe about things we've never experienced?

When I started my blog back in February of 2017, I had no interest in sex toys or plans of incorporating them into my sex blogging journey because of this belief. Little did I realize the Universe definitely had other plans.

This encounter cause me to question what we believe the purpose of sex toys to be and how I and other sex bloggers and individuals who use sex toys regularly could possibly change this perception. I’ll admit, I’m probably a bit easier to convince than average. After all, my motto has always been, “I’ll try anything once, twice if I like it.”

I’ve noticed that so many of us, most specifically black women, who lack experience with them believe that sex toys are replacements for actual bodies. This statement absolutely includes me.

It was during this conversation by the pool with these ladies that I realized my belief about sex toys acting as replacements for bodies had actually been a symptom of group-think.

Group-think can be this thing that happens when we believe something about people, places, things, or ideas often times without having any experience in whatever that thing is and allowing those beliefs to influence how we interact with those people, those places, or those things/ideas.

And here, we hold these ideas about sex toys without actually having much experience with sex toys at all.

The Pleasure Advocate

The pleasure advocate

I shared with these ladies that I once held their same perspective. Then I got the opportunity to dive into a world of sex, including the toys, and I quickly learned that there are so many sex toys that do so many magical things. Sex toys don’t replace bodies; they can’t! In retrospect I think to myself, what a silly thought. How did I even come up with that?

They are there in some ways to enhance bodies, to compliment bodies, and to help us explore and discover our bodies in new ways; in spiritual ways even; in ways we might not have explored our own being-ness had we not been introduced to toys. I can certainly say all of those are true for me.

As we sat at the poolside between sipping mimosas🍹 and reapplying sunblock to our children, I continued telling the ladies about rechargeable toys and some of my specific favorites including the zumio and all the satisfyers 😍. I could tell by the expression on their faces that this was all new territory for them as it had been for me.

I had no idea of the power and magic so eloquently dubbed “the wand” that could be held in the palm of one’s hand. I explained how the design and technology of sex toys has evolved to more pleasure centered roles with research to support. So much so that you might actually discover new ways to orgasm, new kinds of orgasms, and that even the same type of orgasm can feel vastly different depending on the type of sex toy you’re using.

They were all suddenly wide-eyed 👀 and intrigued. “I’m going to have to take a look into these new toys,” one of the ladies responded. Success! My work is done. I can officially add sex toy pleasure advocate to my resume. 🥰✊🏿🤩

I am a total sex toy novice and I love, love, love sharing all of the new discoveries I make with my own body. So I encourage you to dive into the world of toys and see what new things you might find.

 

Pretty Pink Lotus Bud for sex-positive spaces; #WomensOrgasmMatter; the sexually liberated woman, proheaux, sex magic

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Pretty Pink Lotus Bud for sex-positive spaces; #WomensOrgasmMatter; the sexually liberated woman, proheaux, sex magic-a sex blog about feminine sexuality, relationships, and spirituality

When did you first recognize you needed consent?

The first time I knew I needed consent.

It was May 2013. I had received a judicial order to return to my residential state that accused me of endangering my children and removing them without parental consent. In the months prior to this, my mother had ascended, I’d given birth to my second child, and found myself in a volatile domestic situation that had led to my homelessness.

The world was a dark place and I was ready to find my corner and settle in.

The dark place

I can’t remember the exact date I met Mike. Rewind to a few hours prior to our meeting, my mother in law had arrived to pick up the kids. She hadn’t seen them in a couple of months and I was exhausted. I scheduled the hand off and had planned to take refuge beneath the warmth and darkness of layers of covers: quilts, comforter and anything else I could pile on in order to block out the world and sleep away my existence.

Just as I was settling into my dark and warm, woman-made cocoon, a voice in my head said, “Fuck this shit.” I immediately popped out of bed. Not knowing how long I’d be displaced, I had tried to conserve the last $200 in my checking account knowing there would be no more coming in due to my inability to work the job I had recently secured.

I decided instead to go get a nice pedicure and temporarily forget about the fucked up situation I was in. And it worked, for as long as I was there.

When the Universe has a change of plans

As I exited the nail shop, I didn’t actually want to leave. I didn’t feel like going back into my depression. I don’t like it there. I thought of staying to get more stuff done because a girl can spend all day in the nail salon with great purpose. Then I had to realistically re-assess my money situation.

I walked towards my step mother’s red SUV digging around in my purse for the key when a voice in my head which had never been so clear before that moment said firmly, “STOP.”

I stopped and continued to search for the key in pockets and creases of my handbag. Found them and right next to them were my sunglasses. I pulled them out and placed them on my face. Then a voice said to me, “Is that what you were looking for?” Only this time it wasn’t in my head. It was coming from Mike.

Mister, Mr. Mike

Mike had been loitering in front of the barbershop next door, casually scrolling through his phone. I looked over at him, smiled from behind my sun glasses, made some brief statements and continued to the car. I sat for a moment pretending to answer a text that hadn’t actually come through silently asking the Universe to send him over. I felt like it was a long shot just because by now I was already inside the car, but I desperately needed someone to talk to.

Imagine my joy and surprise when the guy who had once been standing outside the barber shop was now at my window. I’ve never been a fan of small talk…not really. The conversations started with a bit of small talk age, place of origin, marital status, things like that, then quickly escalated to me spilling the contents of my current tragedy.

Mike decided not to join me on my pity party. Instead, he made light of it and that made me smile uncontrollably. Then to me smiling so much he responded, “That is why I had to come talk to you. Your smile is so gorgeous.” More uncontrollable smiling followed. He asked me for my phone number. I recall him say, “You said yes so fast I thought it was a no.”

When did you first recognize you needed consent?

 

I can’t put my finger on it but it’s different

I’d never met anyone like him. He asked me out on odd outings. He was extremely soft spoken. Often I had to ask him to repeat himself. He had a calming energy and the sexiest swag I know to date.

After several dates, conversations, and hand holding sessions, I wanted to take things farther. Actually I wanted to take it further days prior but I was still adjusting to my new self and trying to exercise some self-control. Which is not something I’d had to do in such a long time. Mike made it easy though.

One day he called me up and asked me would l like to go out…he listed off a couple of places to which I said no to them all. He then asked if I’d like to get a room. I promptly responded affirmatively.

It had been a while since I’d had sex with anyone besides my soon to be ex husband and it had even been several months since that had even occurred. I was a lactating mess and a nervous wreck. Mike did not care. His energy said so.

Insert Consent [HERE]

We sat on the bed beside one another almost as if it were our first time and in some ways, it was his first time with me, my first time with him, our first time experiencing such a CONNECTION which is something I would later learn.

It was so funny because I was pretending to be deeply entrenched in what was happening on the television when he tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face him and he said to me, “Do you like to kiss; Would you like to kiss me?”

I SMILED so hard it still hurts my face when I think about it. I could not recall a time before or after that any person has asked permission to access my body. That was the most AWESOME kiss ever in the history of my life. He’d actually asked before kissing me! That was such a huge, “WHOA!” moment for me.

I love you, Mike!

Now, there is such a thing as nonverbal consent and I’m really big and obvious when it comes to this type of consent. However, it was at this moment that Mike asked me for a kiss that I realize how much validation, security, openness, and vulnerability comes with certain verbal consent. How wonderful to feel both VULNERABLE and SECURE as a simultaneous emotion!

I still have the best orgasms with him.


Pretty Pink Lotus Bud Signature

 

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