the erotic & its place in my work. in some roundabout way.

i’m integrating my body as a tool in my practice of living Life. let me explain.

i was not taught that my body was my own. i was taught, like many good little christian kids, that my body was a temple that belonged to god. god knew everything i did with my body and i should treat my body with respect and reverence as a holy temple. great, love that idea! but that sentiment, in the context of the evangelical church, means abstinance. abstinence. wow- i don’t even know how to spell that word. lol.

absitinence didn’t just mean abstaining from sex, but also from masturbation. i remember a pastor once saying, to the boys in our youth group (clearly the only ones who masturbate, or so i thought until i was waaaaaay too old)- that if they masturbated to someone, that was the equivalent of raping them, because they hadn’t received their consent. and jesus looks down on rape. and all sins are equal, so masturbate, rape, either way, you’re a sinner and you shouldn’t be doing either. WHAT.THE.FUCK. often i wonder if these things are exaggerated in my head because i am so different now than i was when i was hearing those ideas, but honestly, i remember this night at youth group like it was yesterday. i was maybe 13.

a sketch of a photo from 2017, the first boudoir shoot i ever did was with myself and lauren. i was testing it out- i came away with this picture and felt so powerful, so seen, so myself- bare and strong.

for my 14th birthday i asked for a purity ring. my parents weren’t that religious. it was me driving this narrative, and the messaging i was receiving at church. my parents were telling me to maybe cool it on the religious ideology, but i was adamant that i was going to save myself for marriage. i wanted to be closer to god. i wanted to be closer to myself. i wanted to fulfill my soul’s purpose, which, at the time, having suffered the loss of my grandfather at his own hands, i felt was to stay as close to god as possible to avoid the same fate. i’d been dealing with depression, anxiety, raising my brother and sister with minimal emotional support from my parents. in fact, when i would cry, which is often, i’m a pisces, after all, i would be mocked. from an early age i remember my parents asking me, “oh here they go- what do you want? you want us to call the emotional crisis team?” yeah. one step up from “oh does the baby need a waaahhhmbulance?”

anyway. my first boyfriend and i were deeply in love. and deeply christian. i was 18. he was 16. i was a late bloomer in this realm- i’d been a bit preoccupied with death and child rearing, i guess. we were committed to keeping our vow of not having sex until marriage. until our car make out sessions started “pushing the limits” and ending in focused calculations of when exactly we could get married. at that point, we got curious about what the bible really said about sex before marriage. spoiler alert: it says nothing. the church has made a meal out of a few breadcrumbs about sodomy and adultery. it’s muddy at best. trust me, we looked INTO IT. what we walked away with was the understanding that, to be safe, we needed to be married in our hearts and in the eyes of god. we made vows to each other. we loved each other in an incredibly fierce, deep way that i will never forget. i feel madly lucky to have had him as my first love. our conclusion: we knew our intentions in our hearts. after a year of dating, my stepdad threatening to kill my boyfriend [and his family] if we had sex [suddenly he cared A WHOLE LOT about my chastity], we finally had sex. and my world was opened. something clicked- some power deep within me that i hadn’t noticed before. my agency, my autonomy was suddenly in my hands. i made a choice, and i stood by it. and i still stand by it. we were never legally married, but i consider him my first marriage, my first love, my first commitment. i feel forever indebted to the powers that be for aligning our paths and allowing us to walk together for some time.

after we broke up, i came out as queer. i met lauren when i was 23. 23!!!! a total baby. we were monogamous (another word i barely know how to spell ha!) for two and a half years. when we got married, we opened up our relationship with some hesitation, as an experiment. and then suddenly we were off to the races, both having separate experiences and experiences together, and we continued our own individual exploration of our sexualities. it’s been expansive and eye-opening and created so much more connection in my life as a human and our life as a couple. i am wildly grateful to my wife and the powers that be that we have also aligned and continue to walk this path together. it’s not always easy, not because of polyamory, but because marriage is fucking hard- but we are both better for it. having this option, this opportunity to continue growing at our own rates, simultaneously or parallel, allows us to maintain that autonomy, that agency over our own bodies. we don’t own each other. we celebrate each other’s growth and would never expect each other to grow within a vacuum.

counting my blessings that we were brought together. thank you, okc. we didn’t know what we were getting into when we met, and we’ve continued to grow and give each other space and nurturing when needed. it’s wild in the truest sense of the word.

i have found myself through other people, through their reflections and the way i respond to things they say or do or the way they are. i think that’s all relationships are, really, is an opportunity to rub up against each other, scratch an itch, slough off the dead and discover the new. i am in awe of the amazing people i’ve met in this lifetime. i’m sad to let people go, always. each and every time it surprises me at how hurt i can be. don’t i know that nothing is forever? friends, lovers, they’re here for a time. it’s ok if it’s not forever. we all have the agency to make our own choices, to choose to stay or walk.

a friend’s wedding brunch in germany. boudoir. community. connection- to be seen as our truest selves fosters connection, real, deep, honest and raw. we need witnessing with each other to chase away the shame the world constantly puts on us for our erotic desires. enough already, amiright?

i am learning what it means to embody my values. when i boil it down, when i answer the question from francis weller, “what vow is your soul waiting for you to make? and what will you sacrifice to fulfill that vow?” my answer is to foster connection while staying loyal to myself first and foremost. i am willing to sacrifice comfort, understanding, being seen and known by everyone. i realize i am of a distinct flavor- i am for a select few. but the way those people understand me fills my soul endlessly. and the way i am beginning to understand myself far surpasses my wildest dreams thus far. i am my own hero. i am my own healer. i am the one i’ve been waiting for.

i’ve often wondered why i do boudoir photography, why expressing sexuality or embodiment is so important to me. it’s part rebellion against the way i was raised, but it’s deeper than that. to express the human experience, we cannot erase the erotic. to tell stories about who we are as a species, we must talk about sex, about our bodies, about their glory and splendor, their curves, their muscles, their soft bellies. we must stop, admire the very thing that is. you are the manifestation. you are here. i am here. i am witness to you, in your body, will you be witness to me in mine? in all the deep, undercurrent ways that we can know each other, will you be brave enough to jump into those waters with me? to explore the unknown, the unsaid, the unsayable- the things we can only feel, deep down in our bones, stardust incarnate. connection of all kinds allows that interdimensional travel. whether you’re mind melding or body melding or spiritually entwined, we all know each other. we are connected because we are all of the earth, all of the same materials- there is no separation between me, you or the plants or the air, or the stars or the dirt. we are all of the earth.

my secret wish in life, the thing that drives me constantly, is this image: a long dinner table, with 20-30 people around it. the sun is setting. the food is made and in big, beautiful, bountiful bowls, being passed around between loving hands. there is laughter and wine and there will be dancing later after we lounge around, holding our bellies, aching from so much good food. i want the village. i want the community. i choose connection. i choose hope. i claim this body as my own to use as i so please. i claim this life as my own to do with what i so please, and what is for the highest good of myself and the ones i come into connection with.

this is an embodiment of my values.