My Sex Toy HERstory

Ever since I started my blog I’ve been contemplating doing a few sex toy reviews. Mostly for pleasure which is why I’ve wanted to tell this story for a while.

The legend

I got my first dildo as a teenager in high school. Yeah, funny story actually. My 18 year old boyfriend bought it for me as a gift. When he gave it to me I was like, “Oh,” but on the inside I was more like “What the fuck is this?” By now he had spent enough time with me to be able to read me. He saw the look on my face and immediately begin explaining what it was for and how it was used which I kinda knew, but I was still like why are you bringing me this when I have your dick at my disposal. 😈

It was pink and curved and jellied (yes unfortunately); those dreadfully toxic, jelly dildos. I didn’t know then what I know now about toxic toys.

It had a built-in vibrator with different pulses and speeds. We used it together once and I did not enjoy that at all, but I kept it to use when I was alone. I did not put it back into my vagina though and only used it as a clitoral vibrator. Mostly this was because I don’t really like toys that penetrate, even present-day so there goes that. I’m hoping to find a toy that will change that.

Remember when the rabbit was real popular

My mom usually kept a single dildo on deck. Her favorite was the Rabbit with the pearls that swirled around the dildo part that had the bullet vibrator with the rabbit sleeve to stimulate the clitoris. Y’all know what I’m talking about.

She usually kept it tucked away in the bottom drawer in her room. I know this because I am the one that usually put away her clothes. My mom would often sleep out on the couch; she just thought it was more comfortable. One day in particular my boyfriend and I decided to clean up as a surprise for her when she returned home.

He reached between the cushions of the sofa, grabbed some mysterious object and pulled it out only to discover that it was my mother’s dildo. I died of laughter. However he did not find it funny AT ALL. He made this face like he wanted to throw up, And he was absolutely done cleaning for the rest of the day. 🤣🤣🤣 I still laugh so hard when I tell this story.

So this is not necessarily my personal experience with sex toys but it is certainly a hilarious story. Don’t you think so. 😂

A story about vibrators and toxic dildos

Eggs aren’t just for the easter bunny

In my next experience, I find myself sitting in the dorm room of a college peer enjoying this magical, first time experience of simultaneous masturbation. She introduces me to a double, silver egg bullet vibrator; “One for you and one for me,” she says to me. Like I may have mentioned before, I’m an all hands on deck type of chick so at this point I’ve had very limited personal experience with clitoral stimulating toys or toys at all for that matter.

We both lie in bed beside each other moaning to the feels of our pleasure and the sound of one another’s pleasure. If you have never had an orgasm via what I like to call side-by-side masturbation you are missing out on one of life’s GREATEST ADVENTURES.

From then on, I kept bullets for masturbation. You can read my masturbation story, too.

Yes, I was a Passion Parties consultant….briefly

Fast forward to after the birth of my first child, I became a Passion Parties consultant. I do not believe they exist any longer and have been taken over by Pure Romance. That experience was largely uneventful except that during that period I got to try out a lot of different toys.

Bullets and vibrators and waterproof vibrators, G-spot simulators and yeah. All that good stuff.

sex toy party ecard

At this stage of my life, I was not very comfortable openly discussing sex and pleasure with strangers. So I wasn’t a great sex toy saleswoman. There was still a lot of shame surrounding sex especially because there was now physical proof that I had engaged in the act. As crazy as that might sound, it’s true.

Present day Victoria’s Vulva

Present day I own one large pink suction cup silicone dildo that I purchased at Wood Hull last year, a purple Calexotics vibrating dildo that has died so many times that I refuse to purchase any more batteries which brings me to my most recent toy purchase, a rechargeable Nu Sensuelle bullet. My very first rechargeable sex toy but oh no, it won’t be my last.

When I started this blog I was excited for the opportunity to review sex toys. I am not so easy to please when it comes to this toy thing. I am definitely a hard sale. I have to be convinced. I really don’t have too much experience in the area of sex toys, because a)they don’t appeal to me and b)I don’t understand what all the hype is about. I would really like that to change.

Can a toy actually bring me as much pleasure as the real thing?

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Being A Black Mother in America: A Recent Encounter with Law Enforcement

Disclaimer: This post is not about sexuality.

On Saturday, I experienced a very traumatic event. I was stopped by an officer and subjected to what seems to be a common experience between black people in America and law enforcement. At 32, this was my first and only experience with such a situation.

Of everything that I had gone through, the most hurtful things that I heard came from people closest to me. Some in the way of passive victim-blaming.

Thing one:

Did you record it? You should know better than that by now.

Yes, I certainly do. I know that if I attempt to record I could potentially record my own murder and that is not something I want the world and most of all my children to have to watch over and over again. In the midst of the situation, I was truly amazed at how at peace I was. Many things crossed my mind and each one so clear, clearer than ever. The Universe whispered to me be still a few times throughout the incident.

Thing two:

Well at least he acknowledged your son.

It is so sad how we’ve come to view the bare minimum as acceptable and I see this phenomenon everywhere, especially among our youth in school. “Well, at least I did something,” they say of their work assignments.

At least he acknowledged my son? Barely and this is not acceptable.

“You could have been dragged from your car, thrown to the ground, and held at gunpoint until we determine that you weren’t a threat,” the officer says to me in front of my son. “But fortunately that didn’t happen because you have your kid in the car and that would have been a bad thing for him to have to see.”

This would have been a bad thing for him to see? Not a bad thing for an officer of the law to do or not for an officer to even threaten to do within earshot of my son but just a bad thing for my son to have to see.

This officer caused me undue stress and psychological trauma; a memory that will dwell with me for my eternal beingness but we have to find someplace to give him some kind of credit so at least he acknowledged your son.

No, no, no! None of that shit is acceptable. NONE of it. You have no right to threaten a person of bodily harm, especially one that has shown no physical or verbal aggression towards you in anyway.

Thing three:

Be careful out here.

This comment wasn’t as hurtful as the thought that it invoked.

My response was, how does one be careful in such a situation, I wonder. I stopped without incident. I was calm. Yet he still approached me with an aggressive and threatening tone. The scariest thing was knowing that there is no way to guarantee my own safety in such a situation.

Even so, in the midst of this terrifying situation, I recognize this familiar feeling. That feeling you get when you know a person is threatened by you. As scary as the situation was, I felt so empowered by that feeling. Clearly it was not my skin that was threatening to him; it was not my demeanor; it was not my behavior; it was not my actions; it was not my tone, so he was clearly threatened by a presence that could not be physically observed. The presence of a great and immeasurable power.

This was a feeling that I could never figure out. I could never figure out what would possess a person to dislike or hate another person that they knew absolutely nothing about so much so that they would threaten them with physical harm and in the process cause psychological trauma. My mother would often try and help me make sense of this experience.

This officer is clearly threatened by my presence, by my Beingness, by my very physical existence in this world but why is a question I’d often ask my mother.

She’d tell me, it’s because you’re beautiful, because you’re intelligent, and because they want what you have. Those things, those beautiful things my mother taught me about myself are preserved in my soul, eternally. This officer recognize my power, he was intimidated and threatened by that power so he attempted to project them into the world and into me so that I might react in a threatening manner and give him a reason to try to stifle or even kill my power.

You can kill the revolutionary but you cannot kill the revolution. Fred Hampton

But I was on my way to see the Black Panther movie and I was so inspired and so empowered just by the mere thought that I was going to see this movie My Soul said to me, he will take nothing from you today and you will not give him anything. And with those words I mustered up all the apathy I had inside which is not very difficult, and that is what I gave him all while being 100% compliant to his direction.

You think that might help him calm down, nope and his partner’s support of his attempt to justify his behavior and state of mind didn’t help either.

Many questions cross my mind one was, Are police officers trained to subject people to such psychological trauma? Another question was, Would he do this to me if I were a white woman? Why is this even necessary? It certainly qualifies as excessive use of force in my book.

It was quite an interesting social experience that I am thankful to have lived to tell about as crazy as that statement is to me.

“Routine Police Interaction Turns Deadly.”

I don’t even watch the news so I certainly don’t want my own segment. This is just one of those things that just happens to other black people well it happened to me. #theotherblackpeople

This incident may have been racially motivated but it was not about race. It was so clear to me that this incident was about power, the power that that officer thought he had over me, but quickly realized that that wasn’t so and so he came at me in an aggressive manner. Perhaps half hoping to get a rise out of me; to get an excuse for what he might have done. Something that I think he’d certainly planned to do because he verbalized it quite well.

Why did he feel that it was necessary or even appropriate to threaten me in such a violent manner?

I’m still sorting through all my feels and affects. My son is unbothered by the entire situation because I raise him this way.

Thank you to everyone for your kind words and support.

Happy 32nd Journey Around the Sun

At the start of 2017, I was in such a crappy mood. I didn’t celebrate my 31st birthday. I just wasn’t feeling it and I gave myself permission to be in my feelings. I felt like something needed to change, and things were changing in that precise moment.

I was born on this day. It was Friday, January 17th 1986 at 22:26.

As we approach the astrological location of my birth, I’d like to take this time to thank year 31 for the many gifts it brought.

★Thank you for revealing my passion. My greatest gift in year 31. #WomensOrgasmsMatter

★Thank you for the magic of being able to wear my heart on my sleeve, and granting me the freedom to love without attachment.

★Thank you for my new found confidence and sexiness that gets on everything and everyone around me. Mommy bodies are STILL sexy bodies.

★Thank you for my subscribers, those who support my message, and seek me out for advice, support, and collaboration.

★Thank you for believing in me and trusting me with these gifts.

★Thank you for a healthier version of me. #vegangains

★Thank you for the magick.

★Thank you for guidance, peace, and the support of my tribe in the midst of a literal storm: Hurricane Harvey.

★Thank you for all of the wonderful friendship from those who were once strangers.

★Thank you for bringing me grand spiritual understanding.

★Thank you for my greatest income yet and more where that came from.

★Thank you for bringing me courage as I strut into year 32.

I am so grateful for this last year. There has been exponential growth in the most profound and unexpected ways. I have not felt more ready, more prepared for the things to come. Year 31 has inspired me so much in the pursuit of my purpose. It has shown me that I am my greatest discovery.

No, this isn’t a very long post. It doesn’t need to be. Besides, it’s my bearth day. I gotta go do birthday shit!

I encourage you all to join me on this powerful journey. I welcome you on this journey. I want you on this journey with me. As I approach 1k followers on Instagram, I invite you to witness my joy and excitement in year 32.

I don’t want to do this without you. All of the follows, likes, shares, comments, they encourage me so much. Although, I am mostly on Instagram, follow me on all of my social platforms and if you want to get the best parts of me…SUBSCRIBE!


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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.

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Single Mother Sex

Me: So I met a guy
Relative: Oh, how nice. Tell me about him.
*Proceeds to spill with wonder and excitement*
Relative: How wonderful? Does he know about the kids?
Me: Yes, he knows.
Relative: Has he met the kids?
Me: No, not yet.
Relative: Do you plan on introducing him to the kids?

Yada, yada, blah, blah, blah

For the life of me, I still cannot figure out why one might think you would attempt to hide the fact that you have children who live with you nine months out of the year from someone with whom you have the potential to become seriously involved.

But anyway…

Rules, Rules, Rules

When I first became a single mother, I already knew that navigating sex would not be the easiest task. Along with the physical body changes came a full blown lifestyle change. Complete with a list of “single mother dating” rules to accompany. Mostly hetero-rules like:

  • Don’t bring too many different guys around your children.
  • Wait awhile before introducing a new guy.
  • Be careful of the things you do and say in regards to dating around your kids.
  • Be careful of PDA in front of your children. (You don’t want it to become a situation of a new guy every month; it confuses the child *INSERT SARCASM HERE*)
  • Bringing different men around your daughter presents the wrong ideals.
  • Bringing different men around your son leaves an impression

I kinda went along even though I couldn’t decide whether these were good rules for myself. After all, I don’t quite adhere to the hetero-normative narrative of society. My greatest dilemma became, so when do I get to have my time? As a single mother, I share a large chunk of my free time with my children. Besides when I am at work, where ever I am, so are my children.

As you may be able to imagine, single parenting can be extremely stressful. For me, sex is a huge stress release, and not being able to have regular sex can compound that stress and add frustration. Sex became a ritual of sorts, occurring only a few times a year when I could get the kids to sleep early enough and have my company out before they woke in the morning. These rituals turned into a full on sexual splurge when my children were away during the summer and winter breaks which contributed to how this blog was conceived, no pun intended.

I soon grew exhausted of this process and decided to reserve sex only for the breaks and sleep overs with my girlfriend. This was still difficult because, it takes some time to find someone you desire to have sex with regularly all summer long after not being involved with anyone for the entire year. A game of Tinder swiping, random hook-ups, and dating uninterestedly so you don’t seem too hoe-ish cause all you’re really looking for is sex is like shopping for the perfect pair of shoes to wear to the party of the year that you’d rather not attend.

It is certainly an equally exhausting process.

“My sex drive is way too high for the amount of sex I’m not having.”

Excuse me while I toot my own horn, but I am a great lover (with lots of valuable experience) who absolutely loves sex in its many facilities. Sex for me is like the study of the person with whom I am engaged.

But I digress.

Sex-Positive Single Parenting…I Guess

As my children grow older, I am more open with them about my sexuality as a single mother. Do I sit around having conversations with them about myself as a sexual being? In fact, I certainly do. Mostly with my nine and a half year old prepubescent daughter. I need my children to understand that having a partner does not validate or invalidate your sexual desires as a human person.

I’ve learned through the ascension of my own mother that understanding your mother (and other persons) as a human being is more important than understanding or following the rules of society.

The decision to meet your own physiological needs is nothing to hide, or be ashamed of which we have been conditioned to believe about many physiological needs, especially sex. I don’t bring many people around my children anyway, whether there is a romantic involvement or not simply because I’m not of that personality type. I’ve learned of myself as a single mother that it’s unnecessary to take all these extra-exposural precautions (Yes, I did just make that word up and it seems absolutely appropriate for what I need to say so I’m going with it). In addition, I am certainly the type to be involved with individuals who are just friends. So, how does that work? Do I then decide not to bring my friends around my children just because we’ve had sex?

I think not.

Sex with Friends- it can work

Although, there have been great debates online and abroad, I am a testament to the fact that sex with friends is absolutely and wonderfully possible. Some of my very best, most loyal friends are individuals with whom I have had some sort of sexual contact.

I can say that my participation in this little game of navigating single mother sex has brought forth a profound appreciation for the sex that I am able to have. I have become much more discerning about whom I have sex with and much more keen about cultivating the sexual experience that I desire with precision and intention.

I find that I need sex, in general, a lot less than I need AMAZING, MIND BLOWING sex which is much more likely than it may have been had I not been selective due to single parenting. It certainly takes you a lot further during times of drought. All things happen with purpose.

I’ve come to understand that simply having the opportunity to have sex is not always worth the efforts of having to create that opportunity; Paying a sitter, renting a hotel room, having to adhere to a schedule and not being able to sleep in to truly enjoy the experience. To have it only end up being a mediocre experience can be stressful in itself, and feels like such a waste of time that could have been spent well…writing which is never a wasted of time.

My theme for sex in the most recent two years has been the T.I. song, “I don’t want no mediocre.”


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Sin of a Double Life

If there is joy in being an educator, I can’t seem to find it underneath the stress, the anxiety, and the overwhelmingness of the burden of having to go it alone. That last one is indeed the most important part of it all.

You’d probably think it’s the students, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. In fact, they are the best part of what I do, however I cannot truly appreciate them. I cannot appreciate this experience because I am not in my best place.

I don’t enjoy complaining although I find myself doing it way more than I care to these day. Instead I search of reasons to be grateful, to be joyful, to be thankful yet I cannot ignore this sinking feeling that I feel. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s not at all as fulfilling as I imagined it to be. I never expected it to be easy, but I certainly did not think for a second it would be this difficult.

Psychologically and emotionally draining, desperation invades every cell of my body as I beg the Universe for a peaceful escape. It never comes. I rage over the tiniest little things. My children cry out for my sanity to return. I’m sorry. I’m sorry is something I say too often. I’m just doing my best to cope with this mania marked by intense moments of euphoria right before plummeting into the darkest place I’ve ever been in my life. I’m a Capricorn; naturally prone to depression. I just wish I could disappear.

Anxiety has become my best friend; an omnipotent companion. Patiently waiting to send my world into a tizzy of spinning rooms, shifting hallways, and dizzying blackouts. This isn’t safe nor healthy yet I can’t quite afford to do anything about it…yet.

Yet….this word is a constant in my life. I’ve come so far yet I have not arrived.

Do you know what it’s like to be a single parent with no help at all? And I don’t mean no help as in no other parent: no grandparents, aunts, uncles, or just a good friend to help out. When my children are sick or the daycare is closed there is only me. When there are places to be and things to get done, there is only me. Doctor’s, dentist, dance, and dinner…it’s all me. This society is by no means, single parent friendly.

My kids think I’m super woman. They believe I can do anything and everything. I plead for their help. There is no-one else to ask. I’m constantly on the brink of a break down as I try to get them to understand that I cannot do everything. It’s just not possible. They don’t understand. Perhaps one day they will. Until then, I grow resentful of the fact that my children handcuff me to my every promising word yet they do nothing more than make excuses for their father. I try not to say ugly things about him even when I know they are my truth, because it only makes me look bitter. I promise myself I’ll do better.

It not easy to not pass on your stress to the persons closest to you like flu to a weakened immune system. Everyday I tell myself, I’m doing the best with what I have and somehow that doesn’t feel true. Truth is, I’m afraid. Fear is an overseer; a slave driver and I am the slave. Everyday, I think of just getting in my car and driving away. Then why don’t I just do it. Nothing is stopping me…nothing but fear. Fear has me tethered to this life; bound under ball and chain; a cage bird, no locks on the door. Even as I feel how much I don’t want to be here.

I’ve been jobless. I’ve been car-less with two kids and no access to public transportation. I’ve been homeless. I’ve been dependent. I’ve been broke and broken. I’ve been in all these spaces, left feeling like I never want to be in such a place of vulnerability in my life. There is no rest for the weary. I’m afraid to go back to these places. I’m afraid of being a burden to someone else. The mere memory of it gives me anxiety. I just want to be able to do this without all these feelings of icky-ness.

Where is my tribe? Where is my village to help me raise brilliance? Why is the world so “every man for himself”?

I feel so displaced even as things finally seem to be falling into place. A little voice whispers to me constantly….spiritual blocks leave me with pain in my lower back, tightness in my chest, and labored breathing. My words come out jumbled. My vision is sometimes blurry. I reassure my body, I am listening.

Between being a mother, working this day job and the million things that each of those encompass, there has been so little room left to invest in my passion, my experiences….to invest in myself. Every fiber of my being is resisting this way of life. Everyday I have to coach myself to get through the day; cheering myself on at each milestone; celebrating the short lived victories only to begrudgingly wake up and do it all again tomorrow. I wish to meet my days with joy instead of dread.

I love this blog. I love doing this. I love talking about sexuality and all the things I talk about here. This is what I want to do. Summer 2017 was hands down, the best summer ever. For the first time I experienced what it felt like to find a sure thing; to discover something I’m truly passionate about. You have no idea. My personality oozes disinterest. I do not easily excite except when it comes to sex. It’s obvious why I never made this connection about myself before this stage of life. I had been too busy hiding and being ever so careful to separate myself from social stigmas I hadn’t been consciously aware of….conditioned to believe that I was the one in the wrong. I’m still hiding; still for protection, only now for a different reason.

Not being able to do this and feeling like I “have” to do something else instead in order to fulfill the basic human needs of me and my offspring has be feeling angry and defeated. Feeling like I have to choose this or that makes me feel sick.

The sin of a double life is such a fucking burden. I want off this rollercoaster.

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Women’s orgasms matter because

Women’s orgasms matter because

as I wore my #WomensOrgasmsMatter t-shirt down the aisles of my local Wal-Mart both men and women commented how awesome my shirt was and inquired about where they could get one, but one black man said to me, “That’s a hard shirt to wear.”

In the time it took him to read my shirt and respond with that statement, he had come to the conclusion that me being in support of Women’s Orgasms (and equal rights for women in general) was somehow in conflict with me being in support of Black Lives or better yet me making a mockery of the Black Lives Matter movement. With that, I can safely say, he misunderstands my message.

Women’s orgasms matter because

last night as I attempted to recount my experience of being a BLACK woman, a BLACK man begin to over talk and out talk me in what felt like an attempt to invalidate by experience under the guise of BLACK men have it worse instead of just listening to what I had to say about my experience as a BLACK woman, something he knows nothing about.

He was so enamored by HIS story that he didn’t even notice I had exited the conversation and was now scrolling through my Instafeed completely ignoring anything further he had to say. I wasn’t interested in arguing. There is nothing to argue. My experience as a black woman is valid.

He immediately turned an opportunity to listen and learn into an “us against them argument” and on top of all that, he dragged the white man into it and then blamed black women for our own plight because of the way we treat ourselves, the way we carry ourselves, the way we refuse to conform, and take control of the situation.

I still haven’t figured out what that has to do with the action of BLACK men and the way BLACK women are being oppressed by both white privilege and BLACK men. Like they don’t understand that oppression doesn’t just happen between races but within them as well. I mean, if you can understand the light skinned, dark skinned theory of racism why is it so difficult for you to just hear women out on the male female theory of oppression within black culture. This whole “But us first” mentality is weak.

The Great Debate of Sex and Race

I hear people argue that I’m black first and then I’m a woman. I am a black woman…those facts coexist equally. I don’t feel it necessary to choose. I cannot fully address the issues I face by choosing one over the other when we are being marginalized in both being black in this world, being a woman in this world, and being a black woman in this world.

Just the other day I told a friend of mine that talking to a (black) man about my experiences as a (black) woman is a lot like I imagine the conversation between a white man and black man in regards talking about our experiences and he agreed. I breathe a sigh of relief to know that he understood.

The way one feels like instead of working together for equality, you immediately label the scenario “Us against Them”. In the way that you feel like your experience is being invalidated instead of considered.

But I don’t have many conversations on the issue of black and white because the truth is I interact way more intimately with the BLACK man. Therefore, this experience resonates more with me. I have been oppressed more personally and on a more consistent basis by the men in my life than any other entity in this world. I feel the oppression of my feminine experience to a greater depth than that of being black. Though in large, I feel they cannot be separate. When someone sees me they see me as being both black and a woman. While others might disagree, I am only speaking of my experience.

Understand that I am for everything that I am and I am not against any of it. In fact I am not against anything at all.

Women’s orgasms matter because when I told him I had reached orgasm long before I reached puberty, his response was, “Wow, women can do that!?”

Women’s orgasms matter because I’d often been told to make sure I get mine first because once he came, it was over.

Women’s orgasms matter because we teach girls about their sexuality as it relates to men and boys when it can absolutely exist separately.

Women’s orgasms matter because some people believe that just because many women don’t reach orgasm it also means that they can’t.

Women’s orgasms matter because there are women who have experienced the joys of childbirths but have never experienced the pleasure of orgasm.

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Pay Attention to the Pussy

Actor Jordan Tyler for #WomensOrgasmsMatter

Guys….Pay Attention to the Pussy

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard from women that their partners just don’t give the pussy the proper attention. And no, I don’t mean with their dicks. I mean with their tongues. They tell me that they are always expected to suck his dick, but then he doesn’t always go down on them, or if he does, it’s weak.

So guys, here’s a bit of advice….treat that pussy like it’s your last meal. And go down on her first. I’ve actually stopped women from going down on me so I could go down on her first. Now if she’s the more aggressive type and insists on sucking your dick first, by all means let it happen. But take care of her after she’s done.

Show her that her needs, her orgasms, are just as important as yours. #WomensOrgasmsMatter

Women’s orgasms matter. And while I won’t say they matter more than our orgasms, let’s face it….as a guy, I’m going to cum during sex. It’s pretty much a given. 100% of guys will. But we all know women aren’t always that easy to get off. Sure some are, but not all are. So that means we need to do a little work.

And how many women are led to believe that they are to get the guy off first?? I blame society on that, and porn as well, as you see so much male centered porn where she either is faking it or doesn’t ever cum but he does. Well, let’s change that. I’d love to see more female centered porn as well, but that’s a different topic.

Put that woman first…

So when you are with your lady, put her needs first. Go down on her before she does you. Besides, a woman’s orgasm is a beautiful thing. The feeling when you are between her legs and her legs start to go over your shoulders….when they start to shake. When her hands run through your hair and then grab it. When her moans start and her breathing changes. When her hips start to lift up off the bed and her body shakes. It’s absolutely amazing.

If that’s not enough for you, here’s another thing. Virtually every time I’ve done this, she’s responded with so much more enthusiasm afterwards. She’s in the mood much more than if you hadn’t done her first. The blow jobs are better. The sex is better. You got her going and she’s more into it because of it.

So guys….take my advice. Eat more pussy. Eat her first. Make her cum first. Show her that her needs, her orgasms, are just as important as yours.

You’ll thank me for it later 🙂

About Jordan

Show her that her needs, her orgasms, are just as important as yours. #WomensOrgasmsMatter

Jordan Tyler is male adult model and actor (a nice way of saying he does porn), who has worked across multiple areas of the sex industry. He’s been in porn films, worked as an escort, and performed live shows both on webcam and in person. In addition to these areas, he’s now expanding into blogging, covering various topics from the porn industry to sex and sexuality.

You can connect with Jordan via the links below:

Twitter @jordantylerxxx
Instagram @model_jordan_tyler

Join the #WomensOrgasmsMatter campaign. Submit your two cents at or Contact us.

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Why My Sex Positivity is Not without Fear, Shame, or Trauma.

Sex positivity, like social justice, like self-care, is becoming a catch phrase that is being used sometimes loosely and without a multifaceted understanding of the phrase’s function. Frequently, sex-positivity is often used to categorize or define free spirited, and fun sexual behavior. I myself have used this word to describe my message around masturbation and its benefits to Black Womxn or to provide context to my nude art.

While I think this understanding of sex-positivity should be a part of its definition, I do not think it should be the sole way that we interact with “sex-positivity”. I have been recently reminded or challenged rather to reconsider the meaning and function of sex positivity. My homegirl recently sent me a picture that Traci Ellis Ross posted on her Instagram that defined sex positivity beyond the meaning of someone who beautifully owns their sexuality. I was challenged to think about if one doesn’t “beautifully” own their sexuality does this make them sex-negative? Or more relational to me, does one whom owns their sexuality “beautifully”, somehow without the residue of sex-negativity or sexual shame? I can tell you for certain the answer is no!

Why my sex positivity is not without fear, shame or trauma

Since doing this work, I have been confronted with people’s judgements, praise, and confusion of why I do what I do, and their projected definitions on to me. Given this, I have come to realize how uncomfortable I have become with the sometimes valid misconceptions that are fixed upon my body, my message, and my business. Because I am pro-Black nudity, pro-Black sex, pro-Black femininity, pro-Black masturbation and etc., folks validly assume that I am a sexual goddess freak bitch whom is able to make balls disappear in my throat. They assume that I am a pro at pleasing someone sexually, that I am a confident sistah who knows how to spin around on the D and keep it inside, as Trina said on her hit single “Look back at it”.

Sex positive Art by Favianna Rodriquez

They look at me as if I am sexually perfect and without insecurity, shame and trauma. Some of this is my fault, as I have internalized some shit over the years and thus showcased these internalizations, but some of this is assumptions, and perceptions being placed on me. This is my critique of the word positive in general is that it negates the presence or possibility of negativity, and the energy that exist between positivity and negativity. I blame Eurocentric and/or westernized culture for it conditioning us to only honor binaries. We have a tendency to operate within defining things as one or the other, and if something is good then it is solely positive, and if something is bad then it is solely negative.

I want to push us though to think beyond the “either or” and understand that positivity and negativity like water is fluid, and the presence of one doesn’t mean the non-presence of the other. To be clearer, I am saying, negativity and positivity can exist simultaneously; perhaps there will be a conflict or struggle between the two, but they can absolutely be present in the same person, place or thing and at the same time. If this stands true then this must be applicable to the way we understand and interact with sex-positivity.

Let us consider in the first place why sex-positivity is even a thing. Sex-positivity is a movement to reclaim sexuality as something that is “normal”, “beautiful”, consensual, and to remove it out of the privilege rigged, taboo, and shameful paradigms that often it exist in. In addition to that, this movement is about or should be about providing and protecting womxn’s rightful option to be sexual or not. Black Womxn have added an intersectional approach to this movement and we have been taking steps to analyze, reclaim and redefine our sexual politics. Thus, sex-positivity, I would argue, is born out of a culture that has perverted, shamed, racialized and taboolized and violated folks through the vehicle of sex and sexuality. By virtue of this reality we cannot negate that those whom are sex-positive are fighting through shame, and trauma. I am still very much sexually insecure, and battle with body-positivity, insecurities of not fulfilling or meeting someone’s sexual expectations.

I have trauma, violent, and unhealthy sexual experiences that I have only addressed in my head or said out loud to a few people. Like many Black Womxn whom identify as sex-positive, I am fighting through barriers and ideologies that have been created to limit or control my sexual expressions. I am fighting through my secrets, and the shame that is birthed from them. Perhaps this is why I am sex positive because I found a space where I can exist without being totally spiritually assassinated by my shame and trauma. My hope is that when people engage with my work, my being, my body, and my business is that none of these become the standard or romanticized. I am just as much a sexual mess as I am a sexual goddess, I am unpacking, healing, learning and decolonizing and thus my sex-positivity is not without fear, shame or trauma.

Myisha M Soule

Myisha M Soule activist and blogger at

Yes, Black Womxn Masturbate Too!

About the Author

My name is Myisha, my name means womxn and giver of life, and I am from Oakland California! I grew up in a house with my mother, my grandmother, my aunte, and a cousin that I am four days apart from. I have always been a person who has been deeply chaotic but immensely brilliant! I am trying to walk in my truth, and trying to find the space to uphold balance between my chaos and brilliance. I recently started my business, which focuses on empowering Black Womxn through masturbation.  I have two degrees that hold little value in comparison to the experiences gained from obtaining them, but if you care to know what they are, I have a B.A in Communication with a minor in Ethnic Studies, and a Master’s in Education with an emphasis in leadership.  All in all, I am trying to find myself, fulfill the ancestor’s purpose for me, conquer my demons, help my people, have a baby, and a fine man, and live life as whole, truthful, and unapologetic as possible.

Want to share your journey here on Contact us or email us at

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A Weekend with my siSTAR

Have you ever met someone who had been a total stranger and felt something brilliant and beautiful resonating from within them? So much that you allowed or invited this person to stay awhile in your home without knowing much about them at all? Most people probably haven’t outside of some exchange or couch surfer’s program because we live in such a state of fear and skepticism. Well, this is certainly not the case for me.

My friends think I’m crazy, however I have accepted these acts as a part of my evolution. Regardless of how it turns out, I trust the Universe.

Most recently, I had the honor of spending an extended weekend with my siSTAR, Gabrielle. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more kindred spirit in my entire life, and that is not to be taken lightly. Upon further exploration, it was not difficult to see why.

Two women from two different regions of the country; she from the north and I from the south…

You wanna fuck them up for real. Do you and be happy. That's gonna really fuck them up.

We are both sexually liberated, melanated women of the same generation with common sexual experiences. Not only because we’re women, but because we are attractive, women of color. However, there is even more to it than that…

You see, Gabii is a Taurus and I am a Capricorn which are both earth sun signs. But wait, that’s not all…I am a life path 6 and Gabii is a life path 9 which are complementary life path numbers.

Compare the qualities of each for yourself:

Life Path 6: Family-oriented, romantic, responsible, artistically creative, supportive, devoted, loving, sensible.

Life Path 9: Humanitarian, compassionate, magnetic, charitable, romantic, creative, generous, idealistic.

Now, if that doesn’t just say it all, here is the kicker. Check out the similarities in our birth charts!

We both have a very similar “missing slice” in our birth charts.

Gabii Birth Chart

Spending this time with my sister was such an empowering black girl magic experience. It was the  first time I have ever been able to sit with someone who enjoys almost ALL of the same things I enjoy. The laughter, the knowledge, the wisdom, the high energy vibes being shared in those moments is infinite. There was a very natural symbiosis between the two of us and by the end of the weekend I was not ready to kick her out the way I usually am with folks. I was kinda sad that it had to end even after we decided to stretch it one more day.

It’s like we’ve always known one another. Totally new for me.

“When people hurt people, hurt people hurt people.”

As we shared seemingly endless stories and conversation about our black sexuality, we recognized so many parallels in the things we were taught about ourselves as black women: Having similar first time slut shaming experiences from within our family rather than outside of it; watching the male role models in our lives belittle and berate women even when they did not treat us the same way; being able to identify with the icky feeling of sexual coercion; and rarely, if ever, having open conversations about sex.

She is the first black woman with whom I have had a guiltless, shameless, completely open conversation of depth about sexuality, spirituality, and sexual pleasure as they interrelate, and be taken seriously on my stance to be very open and sexually free. Most black women I’ve engaged with give the energy and inference that such a thing is unrealistic without bounds. Meeting her, made me see that this is absolutely not true. I mean, I knew it wasn’t.

We are two, Moor women who have emerged from all of the closests…LOL. The spiritual closet of renouncing a religion that does not serve our beingness; The sexuality closet of the heteromonogamous-normative; The closet of shame into sexually liberated Goddesses. It’s partly due to our generational Pluto in Scorpio. Great sexual activity in the most uncommon ways.

We are both persistent and resilient in the pursuit of ourselves. Self-evolution is everything to women like us. And I know there are more of us…

Be in the Business of healing yourself Gabii

While here with me, Gabii spoke so much wisdom and so much light; sparked so many ideas and dropped so many gems. The most amazing part is that all of it…every single thing she spoke resonated with me. I found myself completing her sentences and her mine in which we’d shake our heads simultaneously in silent agreement. Her general theme was live and let live; freedom of choice; and love them anyway. All the things I have ever stood for. I have seriously never had that happen before. I was speaking with the Goddess Herself and as I looked upon her, I saw only myself. Myself reflected in another form.

We’ve had similar trials and transitions as mothers emerging from broken relationships and having someone hit the reset button in the middle of her life. We even had similar methods of growing through those situations; writing, spoken word, and outward creative expression. We each are at this place of stepping into our purpose even without precise clarity.

In the realm of spiritual gifts, we are both clairsentient, both empaths, and both clairaudient. She is amazingly intuitive even more so than I consider myself to be, and friends often tell me how intrinsically intuitive I am, calling on me for guidance and advice. Gabii is a reader.

As a mother, I could hear the fearlessness in her words; the way she constructed her sentences. Because when you change the position of the words, you inevitably change the meaning of the language.

“You are enough. You will never be enough to some who is not healed.”

On the eve and evening of the full moon we did manifestation rituals. We brought forth offerings to the Goddess. We played the singing bowl, smudged, and wrote with fervor the things we desired to manifest on our journey. I did not realize how much energy I poured into the ritual until the next morning when I ended up sleeping in for like two hours.

It was an incredibly beautiful experience and I cannot wait to do it again. Love you Gabii!

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The Common Occurrence of Sexual Coercion

I was 28 years old before I had a complete understanding of what is sexual coercion. I remember driving my grandmother to her general physician. There were pockets of pamphlets lined up on the wall talking about everything from pregnancy, to depression, exercising and other things. Among those pamphlets, there was one that read, “What is sexual coercion?” I grabbed it immediately and stuffed it into my purse to read later.

When I was in my early twenties, I knew a guy. He told me a story of a girl he’d had a crush on. The two of them had been at a hospital visiting a mutual friend. While visiting this friend, the two agreed they would go to his house afterwards to have sex. On the way there, the girl changed her mind and asked him to take her home instead. According to his story, he took her home but not before stopping the car in the middle of nowhere to inform his passenger that she could either have sex with him right there in his car or walk home. She opted for the former.

Maybe it was not my best response but I immediately got upset and called him a rapist. He asked me how it was rape because he hadn’t threatened her with a weapon. That is when I began to educate him on sexual coercion and that he should never tell that story, in that smug sense of accomplishment tone that he had, ever again.

I’ve heard third hand stories similar to this involving gang rape and drunken scandals. I even had such an experience of my own where a guy refused to allow his cousin (a guy I had been consensually involved with) to take me home in his car because I wouldn’t let him smash, too. That situation ended with me threatening to call the police and accuse them both of rape.

I talk about sexual coercion in the post Stop Running Pussy Scams.

What is sexual coercion?

By definition, sexual coercion is “the act of using pressure, alcohol or drugs, or force to have sexual contact with someone against his or her will” and includes “persistent attempts to have sexual contact with someone who has already refused.”

Coercion can filter through guilt, shame, or pressure in any of the following forms:

  • Make you feel like you owe them — ex. Because you’re in a relationship, because you’ve had sex before, because they spent money on you or bought you a gift, because you go home with them
  • Give you compliments that sound extreme or insincere as an attempt to get you to agree to something
  • Badger you, yell at you or hold you down
  • Give you drugs and alcohol to loosen up your inhibitions
  • Play on the fact that you’re in a relationship, saying things such as: “Sex is the way to prove your love for me” or “If I don’t get sex from you I’ll get it somewhere else”
  • React negatively (with sadness, anger or resentment) if you say no or don’t immediately agree to something
  • Continue to pressure you after you say no
  • Make you feel threatened or afraid of what might happen if you say no
  • Try to normalize their sexual expectations: ex. “I need it, I’m a guy.”

It was not until I had this complete understanding that I recognized I had heard not just one but many stories of sexual coercion, that I had watched women being coerced into sex, and I myself had even been a victim of sexual coercion. I believe the most common occurrence of sexual coercion happens under “persistent attempts to have sexual contact with someone who has already refused.” Known even more commonly as it’s very normalized, seemingly harmless alias, PEER PRESSURE.

There is this incredible wow moment when you realize that rape, sexual coercion, and peer pressure (to have sex) is essentially the same thing. The craziest thing of all is that we ALL, men and women, believe that this is normal and we place the responsibility to reject pressure on the person being pressured instead of teaching that pressuring people into doing things they have already refused and passing it off as “normal” is wrong. So wrong.

Everyday sexual coercion

The Common Occurrence of Sexual CoercionWho here is NOT familiar with the term Blue Balls? Basically, blue balls is when a male’s testicles become swollen and painful after sexual play that does not result in orgasm.

Now, who here is familiar with how the condition is used to coerce girls/women into sex? Basically, after sexual play, the guys tell the girl she has to help him reach orgasm so he doesn’t get blue balls. I’ve heard this story so many times from so many women. SMH. More on blue balls.

Just recently I was hanging out with a friend who, needless to say, is no longer a friend. As we sat on his sofa watching a movie, he placed his had on my inner thigh. I politely moved his hand and placed it back onto his leg. He then took his hand and placed it back on my thigh and then I moved it again. Later he brought it up saying that I was acting like I didn’t want him to touch me as if he was irritated or insulted by such a suggestion.

Goddess help me, I had to sit with this forty something year old man and ask him, “If you come on to someone and the person refuses, what is it called if you continue without their consent?” His response, ***DRUM ROLLS*** “RAPE!” Rape, his response was rape. So he knew that what he was doing was not the appropriate thing to do yet he did it anyway.

What if I had not been firm in my refusal? What if I had not been well versed on sexual coercion and what it entails? Is it safe to say that he would have continued as he demonstrated when he later attempted to make me feel some kind of way for refusing his advances? Of course he would have!

“In some twisted, sex negative way, his behavior was absolutely justifiable to himself.”

It was a shitty fucking experience. I was so pissed when he later said he was only trying to express his care and affection towards me and did not intend to cause me any harm. Even as he said those words, I could sense some truth in what he was saying. In some twisted, sex negative way, his behavior was absolutely justifiable to himself. I think what angered me the most is that even after I had explained the wrong in it and he seemed to follow what I was explaining, he still attempted to deny that it was wrong. I could only picture him doing this to someone else. Someone who is not as empowered as I have grown to be.

Culturally embedded behavior

Since this has happened, I’ve sat with others, men and women, with the goal of making sense of it and learning more about the occurrence of sexual coercion. The majority of the women I’ve spoken with have had the experience of being coerced into sex. Many of them stating that they didn’t realize or understand that they didn’t have to go through with it particularly after it had progressed to a certain point like making out or nudity.

And well why not, just listen to the lyrics of the 2004 song “Lover’s and Friends”
She said, “Ohhh-ohhh, I’m ready to ride, yeah”
‘Cause once you get inside, you can’t change your mind
Don’t mean to sound impatient, but you gotta promise, baby, ohh

Really!? I can’t change my mind?

Sexual coercion is so normal that entertainers write songs about it as we joyously sing along to the lyrics. I graduated high school in 2004 from a school in suburban Atlanta. I loved listening to this song with my friends. We knew that this was normal (disclaimer: Normal, doesn’t make it right). We knew that occasional there would be this guy you have to practically fight off because of this mode of thinking. And we just thought it was normal. Men just have no self-control, right? Wrong! All wrong.

Men are also aware of the occurrence and believe it is the best and sometimes the only way to get sex from a woman because as one guy put it “women aren’t as into sex as guys are.” For real, dude!? I need to know the origins of that myth because you must definitely not be interacting with the same cisgender, heterosexual women I interact with or you’re doing something wrong. And at this point, I’m more in favor of the latter.

Now the question is, how do we change this?

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Blogging Around the Web

I thoroughly enjoy sharing my experiences through Pretty Pink Lotus Bud. I can say without a doubt, this is my therapy and my path to freedom, so when others invite me or accept my request to share via their platform, I am excited and honored by this opportunity. I know sometimes my tribe and others who visit may not be aware of my guest features on other blogs, because there is just so much going on around the web. As my list of guest features grows, it’s not so easy for me to keep up with where I’ve be featured.

This post was created precisely to solve that issue.

Below you’ll find a few other places my posts have called home.

This first one is my first ever (and currently only) blogger interview facilitated by Isabelle at I enjoyed this interview so much and I would love for you to check it out. I would love the opportunity to do more interviews on other platforms and media…like podcasts or video. If you’re interested in interviewing me, do not hesitate to let me know by email at or just contact me.

Blogger spotlight: Victoria from Pretty Pink Lotus Bud

First up is Victoria from Pretty Pink Lotus Bud. Victoria’s blog focuses on sexual empowerment, spirituality and relationships. She is very honest and open about herself and her sexuality, and shares her – very recognisable – experiences with her readers. She is also the host of the Summer 100 Sex Blogger Challenge. I asked Victoria a few questions about her blog.

Quit dictating the terms of my Bisexuality!

I’ve been bisexual since before it was just for show, before T.I. and Young Dro’s girl had a girlfriend, and way before Katy Perry ever kissed a girl; before girls and women were negotiating the terms of their bisexuality in favor of their partner’s desires. Back when girls knew they were attracted to other women but “I’m not gay, though,” and here’s my boyfriend to prove it.

Did I Fuck Him Too Soon?

Have you ever asked yourself this question before? Too many of us can relate to feeling devalued, self-conscious, guilty, and being ever critical of questioning our own desire to have sex with someone too soon. It’s not the best feeling at all.

Can Sex be Spiritual?

It is often questioned whether sex can be spiritual. Well, I am here to set the record straight, once and for all. No, sex cannot be spiritual. Sex is spiritual. Every single act of sex is spiritual. Mindful acts of sex are high energy spiritual experiences. Less mindful acts (coerced, forced, passive, obligatory etc.) are low energy spiritual experiences. Believe it or not, we have the exact same high and low energy experiences with every other act we perform: eating, grooming, daily tasks, raising our children.

To His Mistress, Thank You For Giving Me What I Needed to Leave My Marriage

You entered my world at a very critical point in my life.

I’d just lost my mother to her three-year battle with cervical cancer and recently welcomed my son. It was a bittersweet time in my life. I was looking forward to brighter days because the worst was behind me or at least I thought it was…

Enjoy and tell me what you think. I love feedback. I’ll be updating this list as I publish more post around the web.

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Venus in Gemini Got Me Canceling Dick Appointments

…According to my chica, Bree, at Magically I don’t know too much about astrology charts; Suns in Capricorn and Moons in Taurus (just a little something I recently learned about my own chart). Don’t get me wrong, I’m black girl magic in more ways than melanin. I’m more of a numbers girls myself as in numerology and I know they’re probably all interrelated in some sort of way but my mind refuses to do all those things at once…

Besides, I’m in regular communication with spirit.

Whatever I need to know, spirit is gonna tell me. I don’t have to know the explanation behind it which is how all of this even started; finding an explanation for what I was feeling.

One day, seemingly out of the blue, I just began feeling detached as in aloof and objective. Guys asking me on dates and I’m like, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” Good dick asking if he can come over and I’m like, “Nah, maybe tomorrow.” I mean honestly, this is not like me at all. I have been known to make treks for that good dick; now all of sudden I’m just turning it away left and right. Apparently, all of this is because of a Venus in Gemini.

I’m in the house and I’m 100% not interested in leaving which isn’t unusual, but whenever there’s good dick involved, I don’t usually turn away visitors. As much as I love regular doses of the vitamin “D”, even I’m looking at myself like wtf is going on with you right now besides trippin’.

“We are sociable, communicative, and interested. We can be animated and fun but may also keep our distance on an emotional level. Attractions now may begin with words, as we tend to bond more readily on a mental level with Venus in Gemini. The shadow side of Gemini is fickleness.” source Café Astrology

Fickle is a good word to describe it, too.

This version doesn’t give as much detail as what she read to me from her phone. It was an app called Celeste and according to the site it is available on both Android and iPhone. For some reason, I can’t find it in the Play Store.

In my detach-ness, I’m just not feeling it, whatever it may be. Often, a sudden mood change in myself signals an accompanying life change. I woke feeling like I needed to do something. I got dressed for cardio but decided against it. I needed to do a reading to make sure things were still on track; make sure my head is still in a good place. I decided to do a past, present, and future reading.

Needless to say just like the Goddess Tarot Reading, it was lit with pentacles. All cards right-side-up!

Dear Victoria, False alarm; put your worries to bed. Confirmation is always a beautiful thing. Following this reassuring and uplifting reading I swiped this via House of Hathor on Instagram.

Yasssss! Ok that’s all I have for y’all today. I plan to share more on my astrology chart. As I was reading it, I found it hilariously accurate, and it explains so many of the reasons I behave the way I do in relationships.

I have a Libra Rising, a Capricorn Sun, and a Taurus Moon. My zodiac is Capricorn (Aquarian Cusp). I don’t really know what that means but I’m learning…only about myself though. I am definitely one who believes in using my inner-chi work to help myself before I can help someone else (also accurately depicted in my chart). That’s just me though.

Keeping with appearances is important to me. Fake it till you make it isn’t so hot with me because if I don’t feel it, I ain’t faking it.

This is a bit of a problem for me but you know what would be even more of a problem, putting your marriage before your career. YUCK!


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