Manifesting: Mirrors, Magic, and Masturbation

This is actually the title of one of the workshops (Mirrors, Magic, and Masturbation) at Sex Down South Conference. I didn’t attend that workshop but I liked the title so I decided to use for this post.

When I was primary school-age, my grandparents had a mirror mounted in the kitchen. Every evening I’d get to the table before all my cousins so I could sit and glance intermittently at my reflection as I ate dinner. This seat also happened to be at the head of the table.

I don’t recall how long I did this before my great-grandmother banned me from this seat and told me that I was “stuck on myself”. There was truth in that. I see that now. Back then, I was obsessed with mirrors; very little has changed.

I used mirrors to look at all parts of my body and not just my face. In the evenings, my grandmother would complain about how long I was taking in the bathroom. If you guessed it was because I was busy ‘looking up my ass’ as my grandmother called it, you’re absolutely right.

In school, I was always the girl you could ask for a mirror. I’d carry around those round compact mirrors that I never paid for…mirrors seemed to find me everywhere. There’s more to it than that though. I was manifesting MIRRORS.

When I was in college, I hung multiple mirrors in my dorm room. It was the first thing people noticed when they walked in. My first apartment had mirrors as the closet doors and I still bought more mirrors.

I once visited a friend in high school and there were mirrors everywhere in her house. She said, “Yeah, my mom loves mirrors.” And I thought, “When I get a place, I’m going to do this in my place.” I did.

My great-grandmother was right. I was certainly stuck on my-Self.

Mirrors are portals to magical realms. I knew that even before I knew that. Often times I’d stare into the mirror with intention…unaware of what those intentions were…didn’t make them any less powerful. I was manifesting beautiful thoughts of myself and didn’t even realize it.

I am a Master Manifestor.

As an adolescent, I’d sit on the bed with the soles of my feet together, prop a mirror there, and begin to open the floral folds of my pussy, exploring mySelf as I stare in amazement at the reflection.

Even then I knew my pussy was magical.

There was nothing sexual about that touch. There were simply the thoughts, “This is so fucking cool; Is this really mine? I wonder what it can do.”

I’d been touching myself for years. To see and touch me and watch me as I touch me was an entirely new level of elevation. I was manifesting PLEASURE. I have had quite an abundance of that and to be totally honest, it’s one of those things I live for….Its one of those “if I could have that one more time before I die” type of things.

Earlier I told you that mirrors are portals to magical realms…as are pussies. Do you see where I’m going here? It’s totally ok if you don’t. Because you know I’m going to continue my story either way.

Even from a teenager, I have had an amazingly pleasant, pleasure-filled journey with my many partners. And as I listen to so much of the traumas that my sisters have been through in their sexual journeys (that I can absolutely relate to) I am so thankful for the beautiful perspective of my own journey. No doubt this message came from mySelf. I was manifesting this EXPERIENCE.

I hadn’t realized.

I was 28 years old experiencing a divorce when I began to recognize I was manifesting my DESIRES…not me though…mySelf.

Also, I and mySelf are not separate. One is just subconscious and therefore woke as fuck. They teach you that the subconscious is asleep; declare that it is awake. Know that the subconscious is awake and playing a vital role in your being-ness even as you may be unaware. So don’t worry, you’ll always be exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Lots of people were sure the divorce was all my ex husband’s fault. After all he was the one having extra-marital affairs, being disrespectful, and violent. Shortly there after the separation, I met a person that I fell in love with instantly. I knew I had been the one to cause this experience.

While talking to a friend of mine, I confessed that I had not been happy in my marriage and that I’d just been pretending to save face. Truth…I pined for love and pleasure, something I always had, had suddenly been gone with two simple words, “I do.”

When I was married, my thoughts would often start like this, “Once this is over…” Sad, I know.

It was here that I recognized my MAGIC.

I broke free so that I could discover that love and pleasure I’ve become so attached to. Once I recognized my power, I begin imagining all of the things I could possibly manifest. It was everything I needed to focus and practice.

Manifesting through mirrors and masturbation is a regular practice for me. It is indeed a magical journey. My practice is insatiably sensual and intelligently intimate. MySelf knows me better than I could ever know mySelf. It is here in the climax of my self-induced orgasm that I relinquish all that I Am to mySelf. To gain control, you must indeed let go.

Today, I have this special mirror…it’s heavy. It reminds me of the mirror over the kitchen table at my granny’s house. The frame is gold. I prop it against the wall in the hallway of my place as I lean against the opposite wall. I watch myself touching myself and sometimes I record myself watching myself touching myself as I rock back and forth manifesting through mirrors, magic, and masturbation.

Making magic with Mirrors and Masturbation

Yes, the mirror matters. Not as much as you do. Special mirrors have special effects and special may vary. The more sentiment you attach to the mirror, the more powerful it becomes. This becomes even more powerful when there is not physical attachment to the mirror. That way the object does not have power over you…see…let go.

I’m a bit frugal. I am also nostalgic. The mirror I use reminds me of my childhood and I thrifted it. Now, that is special to me.

I’m not going to tell you to strip naked and start playing with your pussy. You might not be there yet. Start slow…if you need to…and if you’re unsure, ask your-Self and trust that answer.

Sit in front of the mirror everyday with all your clothes on, perhaps a favorite outfit, that may help you feel beautiful or sensual and simply ask yourSelf, “Who am I?” Do that everyday until you are comfortable removing some of your clothing. Touch your exposed skin. Watch yourself touching yourself. Pay attention to the thoughts that populate your mind. Decide if you’d like to change those thoughts. Note whether you love those thoughts.

Do this everyday, removing more and more clothing each day asking yourself only one question, “Who am I?” Don’t answer it though. The answer is already there. Keep a journal of your thoughts, feelings, and changes each day.

Dance in your mirror. Have a conversation with yourself…speak objectively about what you see, speak sensually about what you see, speak candidly about what you see, speak kindly about what you see…love on yourself. Make this experience unique to you.

Here are some things I say to myself:

You so fine.
I’m so fly.
You are so amazing.
I love mySelf.
Hey, Beautiful.

When you’re ready, cultivate the space you need to allow your fingers to explore nonsexually…If it turns sexual wonderful….if it doesn’t just as well.

When you’re ready.

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

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A Touch of Self-Love

I’m curious, what is your relationship with masturbation? As I’d said in the Creating the Sexually Liberated Woman post, I have been masturbating a long time, however, my thoughts, approach, style, perspective, and even my technique has evolved over time.

Female masturbation is not talked about very often. I’ve heard great things about its many health benefits including a couple I’ve observed on my own: stress relief and sleep aid. Masturbation has spiritual benefits as well. In my personal experience, it fosters an intimate level of self-awareness, sexual confidence, and self-love: physically and psychologically. Friends who know me know I have no reservation about telling someone that I masturbate should they ask. Asking me when’s the last time I masturbated is no different than asking when’s the last time I drank water. They each occur at roughly the same frequency. . .roughly.

There is an art to masturbation. Something like an artist applying paint to a canvas, waiting for each layer to dry before applying a new coat or color, and then finally leaving Her signature. Yes, the evolution of masturbation is much like this. With each new revelation and the increase in frequency, I feel closer to creativity, closer to the Goddess.

Feelin’ Myself

Growing up I was taught that although inappropriate, it was normal for boys to touch themselves and masturbate as a means to release their sexual urges while going through puberty. I guess girls don’t have sexual urges. Any who, we’re certainly not allowed to release them.

As a girl, I was taught that a vagina is a smelly place, that my cycle was a disgusting punishment bestowed upon women by god and that I should never touch down there unless to clean, wash, or wipe. Funny, I do not recall being taught very much about other people touching. But since it was such a dirty and smelly place anyway, I wasn’t very comfortable allowing others to touch. If they “knew” what I “knew” why would they want to touch it anyway.

When I was a girl about eight years old, every night after my bath, I’d place the big mirror over the closed toilet lid, squat down over it like I was gonna go, only my legs were a bit more opened, and admire the way my vulva looked. It was mostly dark pink like someone had taken a drop of black paint and mixed it with pink. The color looked bright against my brown skin. On my inner labia major there was a dark mole. Surprised, I remember thinking, “Oh, moles can be down there, too!?”

I suppose it was surprising because the skin of my labia is not like the skin on my face, chest, or hand which are the other places I had moles. My labia minor were fleshy and slightly wavy (it’s more wavy, now); the color formed an ombre effect from pink to light brown as it extended to the outer edge of my labia. I had no good or bad thoughts; just pure fascination.

Usually, I would get dressed and place the mirror back behind the gas stove, but one day I forgot. My grandmother scolded “What took you so long in that bathroom? You know other people have to bathe. You got this mirror on this toilet like you been looking up your ass.” That likely could have been enough to shame me into never taking a peek at my vagina again.

The Peeping Tom

In third grade, while using the restroom a girl peeped inside my stall. When I walked out all the girls were quiet and staring at me. Eventually, I asked, “What?” And one girl told me that another had peeked into my stall and said I was nasty because I was playing with myself. Given the limited restroom time that we had, I doubt that I was actually playing with myself. Perhaps I was touching myself a bit longer than she felt appropriate. Either way, I can’t recall. I do remember that they seemed to be staring at me like I’d committed an offense punishable by death as they awaited my response. I simply replied that she was nasty for looking into my stall. They all agreed and that was the end of that.

After I got my cycle, I didn’t look at my vulva for a very long time. I didn’t masturbate for a very long time either. Whenever I did, which was rarely, it was stealthy, over quickly, detached, and impersonal. I eventually learned that masturbation is absolutely inappropriate for girls however, boys were always “beating their meat”, having wet dreams, and after school porn watch parties with jacking off contests and this was completely normal. It was more acceptable for a guy to touch you than for you to touch yourself. No wonder men fetishize women masturbating.

Sophomore year in college, I began masturbating regularly, again. I had my own, private room. I didn’t have to worry about doing it sneakily in the bathroom or waiting until I thought everyone was asleep or concerning myself with who might pop in on me. And while I had really, really great sex during this period of my life, there is no intimacy quite like the intimacy of pleasuring one’s self. That release had been a long time coming; All puns intended.

Love Yourself, Touch Yourself

Now, masturbation is a sacred ritual and while I enjoy using toys, I mostly prefer to use my hands. I love the way I feel; the way I swell as I become aroused; the way my vulva becomes a frictionless surface, the way my body pulsates through my climax, and as I reach resolution. I am both comfortable and open with masturbation. I masturbate at least three times a week whether I’m having sex regularly or not.

Masturbation is my way of showing love and appreciation to myself. I use it to complete my stress cycles and release excess energy before bed. Night time puts me in nesting mode. When I’m preparing to masturbate, I like to lie with my back slightly arched, legs opened and relaxed. I explore the entire surface of my bare mons and vulva. With my fingers, I slowly slide two inside my vagina to smell and taste. I love the way I taste and smell. No one knows my body better than I do. I roll my hips in full circles as I climb higher and higher, pinching my nipple between my index and middle fingers as I squeeze my breast in one hand the other between my legs. My relationship with Desiree is a slight obsession. I love her so much. I like to express my love in others ways as well. Here’s a portrait of her I recently drew.

My favorite things to use during masturbation are coconut oil and my imagination; no penetration. I enjoy exclusive clitoral stimulation only. I have the sexiest imagination. Although, I don’t have access to another imagination to compare. All I know is once it works its magic, no lube necessary.

Occasionally, I like to have more elaborate masturbation rituals which involve Marsha Ambrious, Trey Songs, some sexy mirror dancing (this girl is talented with these hips), incense, and crystals. I’m such a romantic and there are few things I enjoy more than not waiting for someone else to romance me. Especially given the fact that I am more single than I’ve ever been yet I’m having my most accepting, self-intimacy sex life ever.

 

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Creating the Sexually Liberated Woman

I remember my mother telling me a story of her first experiences as a parent. So vividly, I recall the one where I was playing in the bathtub as a toddler when I discovered my vulva. According to my mother, I was intrigued. I poked, prodded, and pulled at it. I even invited her to come see the new treasure I had discovered. Concerned, my mother asked my pediatrician if this was normal behavior. My pediatrician responded, “Perfectly, so.” And with that, my mother left me to my journey of self-exploration. My fascination with my feminine anatomy has yet to end.

I learned to please myself long before anyone else had the opportunity. Way back then, masturbation was not a sexual experience for me. At least, I did not see it that way. In sexuality, as with all other things, perception is the reality. Back then, I’d lie in the darkness, place my hands between my opened legs and gently massage my clitoris until my entire body would quake in pleasure. I’d feel so relaxed and fall quickly asleep. I use it for this very same purpose even today yet, it has served as climactic role in exploring the full range of my sexuality.

While researching and contemplating whether or not I would even launch PPLB, I did at least fifty Google searches on various phrases relating to female sexuality. I came across one post in particular on the blog SexLoveLiberation.com where its author, Ev’Yan Whitney, explores 14 Qualities of the Sexually Liberated Woman. I love that post so much. In fact, I love her entire blog, and I encourage you to visit. I also discovered an interesting piece on Female Sexuality, “How I became a sexually liberated woman” by author Wendy Lustworthy.

I, on the other hand, am more interested in exploring how the sexually liberated woman comes to be; how the sexually liberated woman is created. Is she in the words of the famous Lady GaGa song “born this way” or is she in some way, carefully cultivated?

Tweet: Is the sexually liberated woman born this way or is she created? https://ctt.ec/z4cIf+ @pinklotusbud

Tweet: Is the sexually liberated woman born this way or is she created? https://ctt.ec/z4cIf+ @pinklotusbud

 

As long as I’ve known my sexual self, inhibition has been almost nonexistent. Perhaps this can be attributed to my mother allowing me to explore myself without ridicule or judgment. I grew up in a small town filled with religious folk so in spite of my lack of inhibition, I was very, very cautious. In retrospect, I couldn’t really verbalize it but I knew exactly the type of person I wanted in my life and that has brought me deep intimacy with people who love, respect, and support me. That does not mean that I have not been without some choices that have resulted in epic failure.

Unlike the stories I have read about other women, I did not think sex was wrong in any context. I did not feel guilty about the desire to express myself sexually nor was sex this awful, non-orgasmic experience lacking in psychological stimulation. Not at all. From the earliest moments of my sexual debut, although a bit insecure about the act itself, I was open, comfortable, and confident in who I was and what I desired. I was fortunate to share my experience with individuals who were excited about my openness and eager to assist me in exploring my sexuality at all depths and detours.

There may be no road map to how one becomes a sexually liberated woman however, there are several parallels in the experiences of sexually liberated women. Those include:

  • Self-Love in its psychological and physical form
  • Being open and confident
  • Granting yourself permission to explore your sexuality
  • Having a genuine, separate interest in sex and love
  • Communicating your desires clearly
  • Having the courage to be sex positive and stand for open sexual expression

The journey of exploring my sexuality has been overflowing with the most amazing thrills and pleasures that every woman should experience before ascending. I’ve only been hesitant on whether I would share these experiences. Although I am a woman who has actively sought out my desires in the sexual arena, I still hold many of the concerns that most women hold. The concerns of being slut shamed, disrespected, or feeling devalued. Favorably, I have had the support and encouragement of those I am closest with and know me as the beautiful, intelligent, empathetic, open, loving, smart, amazing, maternal, sensual spirit that I am.

“Hypnotize”

The piece featured above has been created by artist Jessica Ryan Walker. To learn more about Jessica Ryan be sure to visit her website, admire, and purchase her beautiful art.

 jessicaryanwalker

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