The Secrets of My Desire
by OneTaste New York May 15, 2014
I think I remember being a child and having it be that my desire was my world, in a sense. There was no division or hesitation. There was yes of course I want to do that! And wait where are we…oh I love this place too! And look at this thing over here, this is amazing. And look there’s a little girl my age - now she’s my new best friend, mom! Sometimes there was envy at other children having toys I didn’t have. But then the next thing would take my attention and absorb me fully into it and I would forget the not-having.
Sexuality changed this. I remember being about 12 years old and suddenly really wanting to rub my pussy on things. And then feeling shame from doing it in front of the neighbors or someone and feeling that creeping spidery feeling up and down my body and like I wanted to shrink and hide. That was when my desire shifted to being inwardly located. I didn’t mind it. It felt like this burning secret inside my belly that I would find sneaky, creative ways to express. It’s how my hunter began to grow.
Fast forward to boyfriend years. It was like my desire had grown in size and clarity enough to know I was ready to have sex. I organized the whole experience, planned it out and executed it with precision. It took three hours - two hours and 45 minutes making out until our lips hurt because we were too nervous to finally fuck already, and then 15 minutes of sex. It hurt and my body got overwhelmingly hot and there was this build of intensity that I didn’t really understand but I was so hooked. What was this volcano of power, of mystery, of potential something? I had to know. It was by far the most interesting thing I had ever come across in my 16 years. My desire was piqued, my hunter had set her sights, and my appetite was on the loose.
Of course, then there were all the alleys and canals and brick walls of my mind to navigate. They came in the form of questions like where to have sex and when. How much was ok? Do I tell my mom? Am I a slut now? How many other girls in my high school were having sex? Was i normal? Then things like, was I doing it right? Did he like it? Should we be doing other things too? My desire was like a snake making its way through the underground, circumnavigating societal pressures and dictates, fears and shame, judgment and doubt. Sometimes she felt stuck and restless, sometimes she felt destructive (that time me and my best friend’s boyfriend fucked in front of her in what was supposed to be a threesome but was more like…well…awkward). Sometimes my desire felt sleepy and lethargic…this whole sex thing was too much trouble. "I don’t feel like it," she would yawn. Ultimately, my relationship to my desire became a bit listless and resentful. I would find the fire sometimes and it would blaze out into some kind of sexual experience that would rock my world, but then it would peter out afterward and I would lose touch with that fire again.
I remember I had decided to become obsessed with someone. I was 23. It became my opportunity to yearn freely and deeply; that’s ultimately why I had set it up although I wasn’t aware of that back then. I was dying to WANT. Dying to hunger and crawl and hunt and bring my desire out fully. I could feel her in there lying in wait, like a tiger in a zoo, spark still in her eyes but thin and bored and beginning to lose hope. This was a chance to free her, at least for a time. He wouldn’t give himself over to me as others had so quickly - I had to fight my way to his soul, I had to sell out and bargain and beg. I had to show up for it and be knocked back again and again. It took me about a year to get in with him to the level of possession that I was wanting. I would constantly forget why I was in there putting myself through it all but I was so hungry for the sensation of craving itself, for the sensation of my own fierceness and determination flexing its talons and being ignited with a purpose, any purpose.
I think I would have been gratified after two years but I didn’t know about leaving on the peak back then, about building things to perfection and then exiting into the next thing that would draw me further out into more evolution. So I stayed for six and I learned many many things. In that time I found Orgasmic Meditation, and of course that’s when things really began to unlock inside me. Suddenly my desire was permitted, no, encouraged to come forth and hunt and cavort and eat, and her home began to be inside me instead of dependent on another. My relationship to her began to shift immensely and take on many dimensions.
My desire became strong and forceful. I was scared to lose her again so for years felt that I had to defend her from all my boyfriends. I practiced open relationship and was highly sensitive to a man asking me to slow down or to not make out with a particular person, etc. I wanted very much to go deep with one person, and I wanted very much to have a wide open playing field where I could do what I wanted with others as well. My desire was a killer; she was a victim; she was a perpetrator and she was still fragile, too. Still I carried with me the fear that to tamp her down even once meant that she might be put back in the zoo again to die the slow death of a caged animal.
My last relationship was a place in which my desire flourished. He evoked her and stroked her. He was like a bloodhound for my secrets and my hidden parts of identity. He wanted them all and he practically fought me for access to them. He had a studied touch that lit my body on fire. I gave him everything I had…except for a relinquishing of that last straggling fear around my desire, a piece he couldn’t touch. He would attempt to rein me in and slow my hunter down to a reasonable pace and I would fight and rail against him. There was some feral part of me that refused to be tamed, refused to be possessed. No matter how many times he tried to tell me that i was running from a deeper intimacy with him, I couldn’t hear it. We would start to sink into something that felt terrifying to me, some churning emotional part of me, and I would bolt.
Now, with my new guy, it’s all about subtlety. He’s newer than me to a lot of things: OM for one. His programming around relationship requires a loving, soft touch to begin to unravel and unlock. Think un-detonating a bomb + ever-so-gently stroking off a tear from someone’s cheek. He has no range in terms of me being with other people. I find myself landing in a new spot with my desire here. He doesn’t play games to tame me, he doesn’t try to tell me why I shouldn’t be with other people. He just lets me feel his system, he stays open and vulnerable, and my system automatically calibrates to what he can handle. Somehow, the fear I felt of being caged has melted in the heat of our connection. Some unexpected alchemical process has processed and digested the fear and my tiger sits in the deep knowing that she can’t ever be imprisoned again. Even if she were attacked, restrained, judged, violated, she is free in her body and soul, she knows she had the key all along and that her cage was of her own making, and at this particular moment in time she prefers to curl up beside this man who came out of nowhere and lick him clean. I'm finally allowing myself to sink into the scary intimacy places.
Today, I had the realization that it’s always been about me and my desire. All the relationships, all the experiences, all the obsessions. I have been creating all of these things to ignite her, to draw her out and to feed her and to relate to her. She has been the one consistent underlying common denominator throughout my life, driving me forward towards evolution and away from stasis. She has been the fire and the presence in all of the best sex I have had. She has been my quiet but passionate friend through many lonely nights. She has been the pulse that I check in with before making decisions. I’ve made choices to contain her, to free her, to tie her down, to keep her in the background, and to let her hunt. She is me, she is the untamed power in me whom I send out into the world to create change and to stir things up and to free people. For perhaps the first time in my life I can feel my own sense of internal containment and structure that is all there for her, for her wildness and her passion and her brilliance to birth and move in the world. She is my power; she is my love.